HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Apparently I decided to take a maternity leave from my blog! I'm back and full of stories. Andrew was born on October 13. It was supposed to be peaceful and easy going. When Isabelle was born there was stadium seating in my delivery room. Grandparents, friends and their boyfriends, etc. It was a madhouse. As I was pushing Isabelle out my Aunt was standing close by on the phone with Alana chatting to the nurse who was HOLDING MY LEG about how Alana is a dancer, Alana lives in NYC, blah blah blah, then Aunt Etta started to play the Kevin Bacon game with the nurse, as if my sister who lives in a city filled with BILLIONS of people would know the nurses friend who is also a dancer... AS IF! I swear the audience was doing the wave and passing popcorn while I poured my sweat, blood and tears into pushing that baby into the world. So when I got pregnant with Andrew I told Keith, "NOT THIS TIME!! No one is invited." Of course when the time came I needed a friendly face who knew what I was going through and asked Lauren to be there with us. To make a long story short, it was a dog and pony show despite my attempt at a quiet simple birth. Keith nearly fainted as the nurse inserted the needle in my arm to administer fluids. I looked up after she said, "ok - all done!" to see that Keith was about to keel over, all white and pasty and sweaty. I've never seen anything like it. My solid rock was confined to a chair with his head between his knees. Scary. I was beginning to think he might not make it through the birth. The epidural didn't work all day, I felt EVERY SINGLE CONTRACTION on the left side of my body all day until right before Andrew was born. Early in the evening the anesthesiologist came back to give me stronger meds and adjust the epidural. BINGO - pain free, but I paid the price, because by the time I was ready to push I had absolutely NO CONTROL over my legs, they were just flopping all over the place. Somewhere in the madness it was determined that I'd forgotten to put a Hi8 tape in the video camera, forcing Lauren to speed all over Countryside trying to find a tape. When she returned I was already in full on labor, crowning head and all, shortly after that, SHE FELL TO THE GROUND AND BEGAN TO SEIZE!!!! Nurses rushing in, trying to keep her still and breathing! NIGHTMARE!!! I kept asking the doctor is she ok? Is she breathing? and they just kept saying everything is fine, everything is fine, but they looked panicked. Ultimately, Andrew arrived, Lauren was taken to the ER and came back with a killer headache and a huge egg on her head and Keith managed to stay vertical for the entire birth.



Things haven't been easy for the past few months. I suffered from mastitis accompanied by high grade fevers - pure hell. Andrew has been diagnosed with severe G.I. issues and is on formula that better be made out of friggin diamonds, gold, and/or copper for the price we are having the pay. The Neocate (formula) seems to be doing the trick, the colic has greatly deteriorated and he is beginning to sleep for longer periods of time at night.



Even with the lack of sleep and crazy days with two kids I have managed to maintain my sense of humor. And I have so many things to blog about, but just not enough TIME IN THE DAY TO DO IT!!



I envision that this year will be great. I begin school on the 13th of January, I've been running at least 4 miles every morning with the kids in the jogging stroller and I've really never felt better. 2009 is the year I reclaim my body and health. It just feels like everything is coming together and its a very good feeling to have. I have my husband, two beautiful children, and it just doesn't get any better than this!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I wish I was a seahorse.

This is the part of the pregnancy where I begin to develop intense envious feelings for the seahorse. I know its the not seahorses fault, but I'm pretty angry just the same. While I carry this child for TEN MONTHS, come on, lets be honest here, whoever tried to convince the female population that we are only pregnant for 9 months must think that we are total idiots.

But I digress...

I carry this child for 10 months while the seahorse (the MALE seahorse BY THE WAY - yet another reason to INTENSELY HATE the seahorse...) Has his pouch filled with eggs via the female, attaches himself to a branch and just chills there for A FEW WEEKS, a few meaning 2-4 weeks. I know I can't really complain as much as the elephant mommies out there, as they carry that beast of a child for 18 months, but whatever, I want to be a seahorse today. Did I mention that the male seahorse regains his "pre-pregnancy" svelte shape in less than an hour following the release of the last baby??? I would give anything to leave the hospital in any one of my beautiful size 8 Ann Taylor pant-suits or party dresses that have been hiding in piles of vacuum sealed bags since I found out I was pregnant with ISABELLE!!!! Even a panda would be cool. Who cares how long that gestation period lasts... as long as I give birth to something the size of a stick of butter I would be fine carrying my babies for 4 years.

Such is life...

But I am not a panda, nor a seahorse, and as such, at 35 weeks my feet swell to the size of an eye of round roast by 10 am every day. I swear that lady at Dunkin Donuts is pouring salt into my coffee every morning, because I have taken major precautions to avoid sodium in an attempt to make it all the way to labor and delivery wearing my wedding band and engagement ring this time around. They still fit, unlike last pregnancy, where I had them on a chain around my neck by 30 weeks. And for the record, I've only gained 14 lbs so far!!! Not too shabby for a lady who swelled over 60 lbs with the last baby!!!

I swear to you Andrew is already IN THE BIRTH CANAL. He is so low that (as nature intends) he is causing my pelvic bone to spread apart resulting in the most INTENSE painful shock-like sensations to jolt through my pelvic and nether-region. I can only assume that this is what it must feel like when a dude gets kicked in the junk...if you catch my drift. Words just cannot describe this constant, unrelenting pain I suffer through each and every time I stand, sit, roll over or get out of bed. Speaking of bed - it now takes me a good 17 seconds to roll myself to the edge and scoot my legs to the ground. I am so disabled at this point I need ADA compliant rails installed next to my toilet and in the shower just to get up and down. I'm just days away from trusting Keith to shave my legs for me. And to that end, I'm lucky just to make it to the bathroom in a timely fashion in the middle of the night, given the whole getting out of bed fiasco added to the minefield of dogs randomly sleeping all over the floor. I have lost count of how many times I've tripped over a sleeping dog, not so much due to the darkness of the night, but simply because I cannot see past my belly. So if you can picture it, I'm scooting out of bed, doing the "sting ray shuffle" (for those Floridians who know what I'm talking about) trying to avoid certain death after falling over a dog, and in the 30 some seconds it has taken me to get erect and waddle to the bathroom, the baby has settled onto my bladder and I practically pee myself before I can actually get my legs to fold in order to sit on the toilet. fun times.

Seriously, where is that damn wheelchair hang tag for my car?? I've got a list of things I need now...the parking tag, ADA compliant rails, a bed pan would be good or we can just take a trip to Walmart - get myself a package of those AWESOME diapers for adults and call it a day.

Is it October yet? Where's my epidural already? I wish I was a seahorse.

Ta Daaaaaaaaah!!!

After living with a kitchen that I've HATED for 6 years, I finally took the plunge and committed to a DIY remodel. Since moving into this house in 2002 I've managed to have all but one appliance "mysteriously" malfunction or die... allowing me to pick out a fabulous stainless steel replacements!!! I have a premonition that the fridge will croak right before Christmas, just in time for my annual holiday cookie exchange... so that I can be the proud owner of an LG 22.4 cu ft. French Door Freestanding Fridge... not that I've picked one out already or anything, providing ample space for multiple trays of wonderful holiday treats.

As usual, Keith was roped into helping me complete this task, taking on the rewiring of the USELESS exhaust fan to nowhere - no really the former exhaust fan turned on, but didn't actually move the air - its like having a fireplace with no chimney. Where in the hell is the soot supposed to go exactly? So that was taken away and we are actually in the process of installing new overhead lights above the stove. We basically spent 3 weeks (from 8pm (after Isabelle's bedtime) to 11pm) up to our knees in spackle, formica dust, paint, and 20 years worth of the previous owner's mess. I learned how to use a ruler during this project... 29 years old and I had to go online to learn what the smallest notches on the ruler represented... laugh all you want, I can correct the hell out of your terrible grammar/spelling but I have no idea where to find 7/16 on a ruler. So I actually googled it and found this wonderful site: http://www.onlineconversion.com/faq_05.htm. I must say Keith was shocked when he glanced at my rough draft of measurements - totally amazed that I'd been able to specify certain lengths. I didn't tell him that I'd cheated, but I didn't need to because apparently I forgot to close down the window on the laptop and he totally busted me. Any MORON should know that 1/4 converts to .25, which I really do know, but I get soooo overwhelmed with the numbers that my common sense takes a vacation. Keith had a good laugh at my expense on our 18th trip to Home Depot when we were looking for items that needed to be converted and as soon as I asked, "Honey, what is 1/4 in the decimal form?" I saw his face turn red... and the answer came to me at about the same time that he fell to the ground in laughter. Oh well.

Its just so nice to walk into your kitchen and have it actually feel like it represents your personal style. It gave me a chance to reorganize all items stored in the kitchen, most likely just an extension of my need to "nest" right before Andrew is born.

So I'm as happy as can be with the final results - it reminds me of the day after you buy a new car and you just sit there at the window staring at it for hours---which is exactly what I do all evening from the couch - just stare at the wonderful results after hours and hours of blood sweat and tears.

I'm Smarter than a Fifth Grader!!!!

I PASSED THE FLORIDA TEACHER CERTIFICATION EXAM!

I have been stressing out about the results for 30 days!!! So paranoid that I would have to re-take the exams a few days before delivering Andrew in order to continue with my planned courses in January. Apparently I'm not nearly as math retarded as I claim to be. I do have to give major props to my husband for tutoring me in preparation!



The good news could not have come at a better time. I needed a boost after my terrible health scare. Yesterday as I was reading an email at work I noticed that the letters were becoming jumbled and that I'd lost my peripheral vision on the right side making it impossible to even see complete words. It was frightening to say the least. I left a panicked message on Keith's office voicemail in tears saying "I know this sounds crazy, I feel a little crazy saying it, but I cannot read!" I tried to explain the symptoms I was suffering and then called the OB in a panic explaining what I was experiencing, headache, blurred vision, loss of peripheral vision on the right and I literally could not read words, letters were missing and jumbled. It took a nurse practitioner at the OB's office 97 minutes to call me back, and she seemed less than concerned, telling me "maybe its a detached retina, you should just go straight to the ER." By this late in the game I had regained my vision and was only left with a pounding headache. I tried to explain this to her, but she wasn't hearing it, I felt as if she was just going through the motions, passing the buck and making me someone Else's problematic, over dramatic, pregnant lady patient.



I reiterated that, again, I was pretty convinced that this was a serious migraine, given the obvious photo phobia and pain... She seemed bored with my response and repeated, "listen, that's all I can do for you, either go to the ER or don't." At this point I was ready to drive over to that office detach HER retinas with my exhaust pipe. Is it sooooo hard to bring me into the office and check my BP and other vitals before you exile me to the ER?? This lady must be on the Bush bandwagon. I immediately thought of that BONEHEAD speech he gave July of last year in Cleveland wherein he proved once again that he's the biggest retard to ever lead our great country by stating, “The immediate goal is to make sure there are more people on private insurance plans. I mean, people have access to health care in America. After all, you just go to an emergency room.” ---- EXAAAAAAACTLY. Let me just go the the ER and sit with 47 other "sick" people with broken noses, flu-like symptoms, or exhausted first time (delirious) mothers cradling screaming babies that haven't pooped for 5 days, because none of them have insurance (but at least they have access to the ER and subsequently a $4,000 bill they'll never pay!!!) or better yet their Doctor doesn't feel like dealing with them and says, go straight to the ER... Yeah, that's right, send me to the ER for 4 hours while I possibly go blind with a "suspected" detached retina and end up with a $300 co-pay (since health insurance these days SUCKS!!!) only to find out that I'm suffering from a super duper bad migraine.



Needless to say, I went home, took a Tylenol and a nap, visited the massage therapist and called it a day. Definitely a lot cheaper and a lot less stressful than sitting in the ER all afternoon. I mean, if the retina is detached I'm screwed anyway so I might as well enjoy a nice massage while I go blind.



So all in all I lost the battle, but I won the war. I healed in time to watch Isabelle drive in circles for 2 hours in her hot pink Barbie Jeep, found out that I'm smarter than a fifth grader (I'm sure that the bar is set somewhere in that range for the teacher's exam) and I'm off to a fantastic start with a 3.9 GPA following the first three classes I completed and I have a goal of graduating with every Latin honor in existence. Oh, and I never went blind. Further proof that I am smarter than the nurse practitioner and I would even go as far as to say that I am absolutely positive that I am smarter than our president, but that's not really saying much.

Coming unglued.

That is the theme for the next few months. As a whole, my family is coming unglued. My once vast vocabulary has taken a sabbatical. I cannot put together a sentence to save my life. All story telling on my behalf is boring, drawn out and has become a total snore fest as I struggle to recall names, places, dates and key information of the point I am attempting to make. My ability to multi-task has disappeared and my family is suffering for it. In the past two days I have managed to single handedly disrupt or destroy EVERYTHING that I touch. On Sunday night I took ribs out of the freezer for dinner (per Keith's request) to defrost for Monday's dinner. When I woke up Monday morning to prepare the ribs they were MISSING!! Oddly enough they'd been replaced by a roast (which happens to be Keith's least favorite food in the world.) Oops. I'd removed the wrong item from the freezer. Still haven't quite figured out how I missed THE BIG RED TAG THAT SAID *POT ROAST*!!! Idiot. This morning I was all ready to leave the house and realized that I didn't have my keys, that I'd left them in Keith's car and he had to double back on his way to the office and bring them to me. Upon his return I realized I had a spare set of car and house keys in the junk drawer... And to top it all off, while I was trying to get Isabelle dressed for the day she threw a fit because she could not see the t.v. as I kissed and hugged her, so she pulled away and said, "Stop, I don't love you anymore mommy!" I don't think I have felt so hurt in my entire life. Its one thing to be dumped by a boyfriend or called names by a snotty high school friend, but when your very own precious two year old tells you they don't love you anymore??? I have lost my reason for existing in this world. My heart literally/physically ached in that moment. Of course I thought Keith was going to explode with laughter because two days prior Isabelle told him the exact same thing and when he pouted while explaining what happened I laughed at him, not fully understanding how badly it hurts to actually suffer through the experience. The only thing that came to mind upon hearing Isabelle tell me that she doesn't love me anymore was to tell her, "Well, I love you no matter what." I don't think she heard me though, I cried after she left. I'm sure its all hormonal, I'm trying not to let it get to me. It won't be the last time I hear it, but it probably won't hurt as bad when she is 15 and says it to me upon being grounded for stealing my car at 2am with a backseat full of minors and a trunk full of beer and stolen stop signs. (Which, I am fully prepared to deal with... been there done that!)

Well, at least I have a few good years before Andrew can speak up. Here are some wonderful 3d/4d ultrasound pics we got yesterday!! He has chipmunk cheeks, Keith's pouty lips and it looks like his is going to be much bigger than Isabelle. Yikes!!

PERSONAL GROWTH

26 WEEKS 30 WEEKS




26 WEEKS 30 WEEKS



Visited the OB yesterday! Placed my order to receive a baby on October 19, 2008. Also, stepped on the scale! Gained another pound. Grand total is 9.5!! Hopefully I can stay on track. According to the pregnancy calculator at Mayoclinic.com a healthy gain would be:

Maternal:
Uterus................... 1.33 lbs.
Breasts.................. 0.55 lbs.
Blood ......................1.71 lbs.
Water ......................2.3 lbs.
Fat .........................4.59 lbs.

Subtotal ...............10.48 lbs.


Fetal:
Fetus ........................7.5 lbs.
Placenta ................0.89 lbs.
Amniotic Fluid ......1.09 lbs.
Subtotal .................9.48 lbs.

Total .....................19.96 lbs.



That's laughable, as if two behemoths like Keith and myself could possibly produce a baby that weighs only 7.5 lbs. Yeah Right. Andrew has been measuring 3 weeks bigger than the "average" baby since mitosis occurred. Jesus. I'm bound to have at least a 9 pound baby this time, and that is being conservative. So go ahead and place your bets.

Speaking of growing. As a throwback to my earlier blog... it seems like everyone has something to say about how big I am getting... a couple days after I posted the blog about my increasing size some Joe blow in Books-a-Million breezed by me in the "Personal Growth" isle and points at my belly and says, "well you're definitely in the right place, yuk, yuk, yuk." So I pointed at his beer belly hanging over his shorts and said, "you too!"



Yesterday was a rough day. I had contractions all day long, stayed at the office anyway and worked through it. Isabelle decided not to take a nap all day, so when everyone got home we just lounged on the couch and cuddled.

I'm ready for my handicap parking pass now please.

I've been bragging for 7 months, despite the initial onset of 1st trimester sickness, that this pregnancy has been relatively easy. I've gained a nominal amount of weight, making life in general much easier. I can sleep on my side, I can even lay on my stomach at the massage therapist's office with the special pillows, I can actually still see my feet, and I have been able to maintain a pretty normal play life with Isabelle, sitting down with her, carrying her, cuddling with her... I keep telling people "I'm pregnant, not crippled" "let me do it, I'm fine" "I'm not an invalid, I can wash my own car and mow the lawn!" I've been preaching about staying positive and keeping complaints to a minimum.



I take it all back. I am now disabled, crippled, an invalid. I have come to the reality that I am now pretty much incapable of getting off of the couch without assistance. I can't get off the ground from a sitting position holding Isabelle, I am now sliding into the drivers seat of my car with the aid of the steering wheel as a pulley...and I am exhausted after climbing the stairs to the office 4 times a day. It hit me like a ton of bricks last night, that I have officially arrived at the "hard part" where I get temporarily depressed a few times a week and can't fake a smile. Its an uncomfortable feeling for me to not be able to do things independently and easily and quickly. At this point if I do what I am told and gain 1 lbs a week I will have gained another 10 lbs by mid October. I'm already a cripple with only 8.5 lbs,Well... I'm ready for the epidural RIGHT NOW. I've spent the past couple weeks debating whether or not to induce reading up on all of the medical mysteries and theories for causes of autism and other birth and long-term effects that could possibly be associated to induction of birth vs. how natural birth occurs for a reason. I've considered all the hormonal occurrences that take place and all the mumbo jumbo that Douala's and tree hugging hippies preach about... I almost convinced myself to wait and let nature take its course. Well, not anymore, I'm going in to the Dr.'s office today and letting them know that I am ready to schedule this birth at 39 weeks. Set it up people, I'm not the waiting type, get this kid out of me now, and where can I sign up for a handicap parking pass? - cause the 2 lousy maternity spots at the mall are always full when I get there and Publix and Walmart have lots the size of Lake Michigan. I need a break.