The Thirties

It's a bit belated, but we hit a major milestone last week -- 30 weeks!  In fact, I hit 31 weeks yesterday (Saturday) which is another milestone in that we are now in a single digit weekly countdown to baby time.  I find myself forgetting to be afraid of all the looming threats of which I have spent the majority of this pregnancy living in fear.  This doesn't mean I'm feeling fearless, because that could not be further from the truth.  I guess, finally, I've started to believe in this pregnancy.  In my body.  That this, after all, might be one thing that it's really good at.  We'll see I guess.  I still try not to get too far ahead of myself!

A week ago Thursday we had an ultrasound/follow-up appointment.  I was 29 weeks 5 days and Nerdlet was measuring at about 30 weeks and in the 53rd percentile.  This was excellent news as there still seems to be some skepticism with regard to my gestational diabetes diagnosis (or lack thereof) so it was extremely gratifying to find Nerdlet is growing at a normal rate.  Nerdlet was also practicing breathing - which was really neat to see.  Apparently this means that the lungs are functional now, and Nerdlet is preparing for the real world.  We also got to see some tiny toe curls as Nerdlet flexed his/her toes at us.  Aside from that very first ultrasound where we got to see Nerdlet for the very first time (and he/she looked like a teeny tiny jumping bean that took my breath away), this was my favorite ultrasound so far. 

We got a really clear look at Nerdlet's face.  The picture (below) doesn't do it justice -- probably in the split second before the tech captured the image, it was a crystal clear image of a perfect little face.  A long shot from the one we got at 19w5d.  I do believe we have outgrown the unfortunate  "cheesy mango" phase.  For those curious about what Nerdlet has graduated too, he/she is approximately the size of a pineapple now. 

 
Todd finally got to feel a kick this past week.  Apparently it felt like a gas bubble to him, which makes me a little bit concerned about the kind of gas he apparently experiences cuz that was one swift kick to slightly below my rib cage, and it felt nothing like a gas bubble to me!

This week will kick off a series of weeks filled with fun and exciting things.  My friend - whose visit first prompted me to take a pregnancy test - is flying in on Thursday for a long weekend, and my first baby shower is on Sunday.  Between the baby festivities and impending holidays -- these last 9 (NINE!!!!) weeks are going to fly by!

May 8, 2012

There will likely be another update this week as I have my next appointment and ultrasound on Thursday.  Hopes and prayers for lots of good news then.  For now -- I am going to take a step backwards and try to capture the moment that we found out we were expecting.  Someone asked me recently, "what is the appropriate age to tell your child that you were so excited to find out he or she was coming that you ate your own pee?!"  Well - I guess the answer to that will be when our child is old enough to read this blog.  And now that I've piqued your interest -- here's the story.

The spring of this year was an...interesting time for me.  In late April we spent a hefty chunk of change to put our information in the "Waiting Families" book at Lutheran Social Services.  This was a hugely exciting step for us - one we'd been waiting months to take.  We were one step closer to growing our family and it literally could have happened at any moment. 

At the same time, I was really struggling.  I don't know what was in the water around here, but suddenly it seemed like everyone was pregnant.  Not just everyone - but people who had struggled. People, like us, who thought that maybe this wasn't in the cards for them.  So - while our lives were heading full steam ahead on the path that felt like the right path, I was hurting a lot.  It was hard for me to stay excited.  I was frustrated with my body, frustrated with the hand I was dealt, and of course constantly afraid that all of our efforts were for nothing.  That none of this was going to pan out -- that I needed to make peace with the fact that maybe all our babies were meant to be furry. 

It was in the middle of a pity party I was throwing myself one evening that I first felt "weird."  Todd was out with friends, so I was home by myself, and I'd had a particularly cathartic cry that evening and as I lay there, watching some fluffy chick flicks and curled up with my fur babies, something just felt different. 

During that time we were preparing for one of my dearest friends to come visit us from North Carolina.  We were in the middle of intense house cleaning, and I still didn't feel quite right.  At one point, in between vacuuming and scrubbing the toilet, I was hit with a wave of exhaustion so intense that I just had to lay down.  I flopped down in bed and rested for about 15 minutes before I could get back up.  Later that evening, my stomach felt upset so we fended for ourselves for dinner that night.  Todd made himself a fried egg sandwich and accompanied that with some cheddar Sun Chips.  The smell of the frying eggs made my stomach turn, but far more interestingly -- I could smell the cheddar Sun Chips from across the room , and they smelled heavenly.  It was at that point that I asked Todd if he would go pick up a pregnancy test for me.  I didn't honestly believe I was pregnant, but I knew that with my friend in town there would likely be drinking and that something was going on with my body -- so it wouldn't hurt to rule out pregnancy.

Todd, bless his heart, did run out and buy me a pregnancy test.  He actually came home with a pregnancy test, and two packages of meat sticks.  I'm sure the cashier got a kick out of that combination.  I waited to take the test.  I DREADED taking the test.  I have taken more negative pregnancy tests than I even care to remember. I waited until the morning that my friend was supposed to fly in to take the test.  It was 5 a.m., and with a heavy sigh I decided I really needed to figure out what was going on, so I finally took the test.

Before I even set the test on the counter it was reading positive. 

I had no idea what to make of that.  It was like a cartoon character reaction as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and did a double take.  I ran to grab the box to confirm that what I thought was positive was actually positive -- it was.  So, at just after 5 a.m. on May 8, 2012 -- I went running into our bedroom and woke Todd up by waving a used pee stick in his face chanting "OMG.  WTF is this?  WhAT IS THIS?  WHAT DOES IT MEAN?  It's probably a false positive..."  We each spent our pre-work time googling false positives (and finding out that they're pretty rare). 

This was an interesting situation for us because that was going to be the last time Todd and I would be alone together until late that evening.  We decided not to tell anybody.  To maybe take another test later.  That lasted...a couple hours?  This was news that I could not keep to myself.  I eventually emailed the news to my sister, expressing my doubts, telling her not to get excited cuz it was probably not true.  She recommended a different brand of test, and told me to take one of those and let her know. 

I did that.  On my way to pick up my friend from the Minneapolis airport, I stopped at the Wal Mart, grabbed a pregnancy test, went through self check-out, and then slipped into the Wal Mart bathroom to take my pregnancy test - just like all the classy ladies do.  The situation in the Wal Mart bathroom was a little cramped.  I took the second test and noticed, again, that the test showed positive before I even set it down.  At this point I pretty much freaked out.  I had too many things for too few hands and as I tried to shuffle things around, I shoved the instructions in my mouth only to find out that -- there was pee on the instructions.  And it was now in my mouth. 

My text to my sister from the Wal Mart bathroom (staying classy!) was a picture of the positive pregnancy test with the accompanying message "OMG!  I JUST GOT PEE IN MY MOUTH!"

It should be noted that this wasn't the last test I took.  It wasn't even the last big box store bathroom that I took a test in.  Todd called it my pee tour around Rochester.  The final total wound up being 6 positive pregnancy tests before I finally had that first ultrasound that confirmed, without a doubt, that there was a baby in there. 

I'll forget these details someday.  I'll forget that feeling -- of holding that positive pregnancy test in my hand with utter disbelief because I had long ago come to understand that this was just something my body was never going to do for me.  It's a funny story because it captures how completely unprepared and disbelieving I was, but it also captures for me the memories of those first few days and weeks.  I cried a lot (for different reasons than I cry a lot these days).  Even now I have moments when I can't believe it's really real. I struggle to write about it without some kind of "evidence" (like the latest ultrasound shoing that everything is looking okay in there) -- even though as I type this I'm getting all kinds of kicks and nudges, as though Nerdlet knows I'm talking about him/her. 

So, dear Nerdlet, I'm sorry that the story of you involves a chapter in which I eat my own pee.  But please know that A) it wasn't intentional and B) I was never more happy to accidentally eat my own pee in my entire life.  You have always been totally worth it. 

27 Weeks

It has come to my attention that I've been really really bad about keeping everyone updated on how Nerdlet and I are doing. 

I've truthfully been meaning to update this thing for weeks now (months, even), but every time I've sat down with the intent to write -- my energy just mysteriously drains away and I find myself, hours later, lost on Pinterest (or something) instead. 

Energy has been my biggest battle during this entire pregnancy so far.  Supposedly it returns a little bit in the second trimester, but I'm not really sure that was the case for me.  I noticed a decrease in the waves of fatigue, perhaps, but aside from that it's pretty much felt like sleepy time all the time.  I can literally sleep any time, pretty much anywhere - which is not normal for me.  Pre-pregnancy sleeping in meant waking up at 7 a.m. on weekends.  These days it's more like 8:30-9 (which I realize is still early to some of you night owls, but I am a morning person by nature) giving me 12 or more hours of sleep each night.  I'm a little afraid of what this is going to mean for my third trimester.  The third trimester combined with the onset of fall/winter may induce hibernation, literally.  I'll see you in the spring, friends!

So - the third trimester.  It's just around the corner.  There's actually some debate on this, I guess.  But my Mayo Clinic book says that the end of this week marks the end of my 2nd trimester, so I guess I'm going to go with that.  Which means I'm staring # 3 in the face.  I'm continually amazed at what my body is doing.  It is doing some pretty amazing things -- both in a beautiful "making another human being" way and a horrifying "holy crap, what happened to my ankles?" kind of way. Yesterday (Saturday) marked week 27.  The books tell me that if I have the baby this week, there's a more than 85% chance that baby will survive.  This is pretty remarkable - although I'd really prefer to keep this baby in for a while yet. 

My body, thus far, seems to be cooperating with my wishes.  My last appointment (at 24 weeks) went really well.  I sailed through my second 3-hour glucose test (yes, I had to do two.  My OB was CONVINCED that I was going to fail.  It felt pretty good to prove her wrong).  My numbers the second time were better than the first time and probably more normal than they've been for years.  I managed to find myself on a gestational diabetes diet anyway, though - as a precautionary measure.  My blood pressure was even a little lower at my last appointment.  I was mostly stupefied at how my body seems to be getting healthier (or at least it was then) instead of unhealthier which is what pretty much everyone in the medical community had expected.  I guess it just goes to show that those prayers?  They're still working.  And we are still eternally grateful for them.

As for the baby -- Nerdlet has become a kicking machine.  I still think that my anterior placenta is still cushioning a lot of the kicks, but I'm feeling them more and more and they are getting stronger and stronger, or at least more distinguishable.  Todd hasn't been able to feel them yet.  I have been able to feel a few from the outside, but they aren't very regular yet and Todd isn't very patient so we haven't gotten the timing down just right yet.  I'm sure that will change soon. 

Our anatomy scan ultrasounds (yes, we had two.  This baby does not appreciate being filmed.  In the first ultrasound we couldn't find the feet, and in the second ultrasound Nerdlet kept his/her hands clenched around the face so we couldn't get any good pictures - we did find the feet though!  My baby has feet!  Yay!) showed that everything appears to be normal in there.  It was a good thing we'd decided not to find out the gender of the baby because on top of everything else, Nerdlet had legs crossed with cord tucked between the legs -- both times.  So - there were no moments of weakness for us.  We still don't know!  And yes, it's almost starting to drive us as crazy as it's been driving most of you.

The nursery is still a work in progress - but it's ALMOST done.  For those of you who missed it - we got the polka dots up on the wall...

there are some cosmetic finishing touches that need to be done, but it's pretty much baby-ready at this point. Now, if I could somehow find the motivation to tackle cleaning the rest of the house -- we'd be in good shape. :)

So - the update is -- so far so good.  I'm still nervous every day - all the time.  I guess this is just part of this whole thing though, from what I understand.  Our next appointment is October 11.  I will be just shy of 30 weeks at that point.  We'll get another ultrasound to measure Nerdlet's growth -- and fingers crossed everything will still look as good as it did at the last appointment.  Stay tuned...

Cheesy Mango

Every week I follow Nerdlet's progress in the Mayo Clinic book, the "What to Expect" book, and then I usually check it out online too.  I'm having so much fun reading about how things are changing in there -- it's really the only guide that I have.  I can't see in there, and most of the time I can't even feel in there much.  So - on Saturday I hit the 19 week mark, so I thought I would check out what's happening there.  It turns out - this is what's happening in there:

"Have you ever seen a mango dipped in cheese? Well, that's what your baby looks like this week..." (see for yourself, I could not make this up).  So -- allow me to help you a little bit with the imagery here.

Mango:

Cheese:

Take a minute - mix the two together in your head.  Got the image now?  It's pretty weird, right?  And gross.  That is without question the weirdest way I've heard my baby described so far. 

Now, go ahead and add this face:

It just became a little terrifying, right?  Poor Nerdlet.  I guess the cheesy mango is just a phase.  S/he'll grow out of it.

Today was Nerdlet's "big" ultrasound.  Everything is looking good in there, except we were unable to confirm that Nerdlet has feet, and there was zero cooperation when trying to get a map of the heart.  I should MAYBE be concerned about this, but I'm mostly just excited that it means another ultrasound in two weeks.  I can live with a footless baby, but I'm guessing the feet hiding was just another show of rebellion. 

We chose not to find out the gender (I didn't cave!).  At one point Todd and I SWEAR we heard the tech say something about "the boy" -- but then a couple minutes later he told us that it was a good thing we didn't want to find out the gender because that's apparently right where Nerdlet was hiding his/her feet - and there would be no cooperation there either.  Nerdlet is modest.  So - it might be a boy.  But could also possibly be a girl.  We're about 100% sure it's one of those two things (despite the fact that it currently looks like an alien). 

We were able to get a pretty good picture of Nerdlet's spine.  This one I can make out -- it was very clear on the ultrasound screen and very cool to see.

Despite the lack of feet, we apparently have two legs.  Yeah - I'm not really sure there are legs in there either.   But that's how it's labeled!

Arms were also captured on film.  We also got to see tiny fingers, but didn't get a picture of those. 

I think Nerdlet looks like a little monkey here (so, to recap -- possibly boy, possibly girl, possibly alien, possibly monkey), but it's my favorite picture of them all.  It's still a little blurry.  I'm guessing that the ones we get in two weeks will be MUCH more clear. 

So far - so good.  My blood pressure is still high, but my urine tests came back normal so nobody is freaking out about that yet.  Nerdlet currently weighs about 10 oz and appears to be measuring right on track.  All in all - it was a fantastic appointment.  There is always much relief when we get to peek in on little Nerdlet, but this week we also got confirmation that almost everything (that we could see) is developing like it should - and the little bean is still be-bopping away in there!

18 Weeks

Oh, right.  I was going to keep writing.

Here we go…

For some reason it is really hard for me to write about this.  There are a lot of reasons for this, but half the time I sit down to write and wind up deleting things 10 times before just abandoning it altogether, figuring it will come to me later. 
Here’s hoping now is later. J

The truth is that there isn’t a lot to report.  I am 18 weeks pregnant today, which means that this baby is almost half baked.  There have been a couple early bumps in the road – but nothing terribly alarming.  I took my first gestational diabetes test at 16 weeks due to my risk factors.  I failed the one hour test – although I initially thought that I had passed it.  When they called to tell me I failed, I didn’t take it very well.  In retrospect, I feel pretty bad for the people who were trying to schedule my next test – they had to have been completely baffled by my reaction.  Failing the 1 hour test is bad news, but it’s not HORRIBLE news, and it often doesn’t mean anything at all.  In fact, I passed the 3 hour test a week later.  Apparently I just barely passed it, but I passed it nonetheless so I guess – one hurtle down. 

I’ll get another one of these things in about 2 more months.    This is unappealing for several reasons – 1) I am not a fan of needles.  At my first test (the 1 hour) the guy missed my vein and went digging. I almost passed out and threw up simultaneously.  Luckily they got me right away at the second test, but I am forever traumatized (again, some more) by that first experience.  2) I do not tolerate the glucose solution well.  The first time I took it I thought maybe I was just reacting to the extremely hot temperatures outside.  The second time, I actually got to sit in the lobby for about 10 minutes before they called me back, so I knew the temperature in the room was comfortable.  About 10 minutes after I came out I was sweating like crazy and shaking.  I’m sure I looked like a crazy lady sitting out there in the comfortably air conditioned room, sweating profusely.  3) My blood sugar CRASHED at the 3 hour test.  It just completely bombed in that last hour.  So – pregnant, fasting, and now with impressively low blood sugar, it should go without saying that my next food choices weren’t exactly the best ones I’ve ever made.  I’m hoping that, since I know what to expect now, when I do this again I can prepare a little better to  avoid at least this one pitfall. 

My blood pressure was high at my last appointment.  Not alarmingly high, but higher than it should have been which of course set me into panic mode.  We’re monitoring it now.  It was normal that night when we took it at home, so who knows what was going on.  I could do with a little less drama, body.  Thanks.  I also got to hear the heartbeat for the very first time – that was pretty awesome.  My OB had a student with her that day, so she was the first one to try.  She was a little panicked when I told her that we’d never tried to hear the heartbeat before.  She assured me that I shouldn’t panic if they didn’t find it.  The baby is still very small and, as she said, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”  She wound up not being able to find it, but when my OB gave it a try she found it in 30 seconds.  It’s always a relief to get that “proof”.  Even though I think I’m feeling movement in there – the proof is still so reassuring.

I DO think I’ve felt some movement – it’s hard to say for sure, it’s nothing consistent yet, but there have definitely been some bubbles and taps and whirls that I’ve never felt before.  The tapping, in particular, makes me think that it’s the baby.  I am always quick to say that I’m not POSITIVE that it’s the baby, but I guess nobody can really prove me otherwise, so let’s go with it.  It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever felt – and I can’t wait for more pronounced movement.  I can’t wait for Todd to be able to feel it. 

That’s where we are in a nutshell.  I go in on July 30^th for the “big” ultrasound.  Much to the disappointment of almost everyone in the world, I think we are NOT going to find out what we’re having.  I love the idea of not knowing for sure, and frankly – we had made all these plans without knowing if we were going to wind up with a little boy or a little girl – and in that sense, nothing has really changed.  Either way, we’re going to be head over heels in love.  We already are.  So the rest is just frosting.  Of course, I reserve the right to change my mind on this, but know that any pressure we get just firms my resolve to not know.  I’m stubborn and difficult like that.

God Laughed

I know it looks like we completely abandoned this blog. 

That’s not the case!

In fact, I’ve been composing this blog entry for the better part of the last month.  Still, I have no idea how to even begin.  So, I guess the best way to move forward is to first move backwards….

We began our adoption journey when we ran into ongoing troubles and obstacles to having our own children. Not only would my body not cooperate, but any time we sought assistance we were discouraged and redirected.   I knew, anyway, that I was never going to be interested in doing anything intrusive to conceive my own children.  I believed that if my body wasn’t capable of doing this thing on its own (or with a gentle nudge), then this wasn’t what I was meant to be doing.  So, Todd and I had many long long talks about what our fertility issues meant, and about the calling I felt towards adoption.  We began to think that adoption was the path we were supposed to be on.  Then, financially, everything fell into place and we became convinced.  This was where we were supposed to be.  This is what we were supposed to be doing. 

Along the way there have been many ups and downs.  I originally thought that since the decision was basically such a simple one for us, it would be simple for us to move through it, but I was wrong.  Even though adoption was what I felt called to do, I still experienced doubts and a grieving process that I never expected.  Each time someone became pregnant, I had to re-learn how to exhibit the proper emotional responses.  I figured with time this would become easier.  I started to make peace with the idea that this would never be me.  In fact, there may not be children in our lives at all,  and maybe THAT was God’s plan for us.   I spent a lot of time trying to make peace with that idea.  It  would not necessarily be the life we would choose for ourselves, but it was a life we could make the best out of if we had to.  One way or another, we would be okay.

And then, God laughed.

And if you know anything about us by now, you know that we have a deep appreciation for laughter.  It's one of our very favorite things.  We named our blog after it.  Still, it can be a little unsettling when it comes from God.  In fact, it can downright turn your life upside down. 

All this is to say that we have an announcement to make – and believe me when I say that it’s not the one we thought we would be making. 

We’re going to have a baby.

That is, *I’M* going to have a baby. 

This broken, stubborn, frustrating body is currently making bones and eyeballs and fingernails for the little baby growing inside of it.  And there is nobody on the planet more surprised than me. 

Nobody.

I’m due December 22^nd.  That means that right this minute I am 13 weeks and 3 days pregnant.

So – how did this happen?  Well, I’m going to assume you know how it *happened*.  But aside from the obvious, we don’t really know.  Remember the procedure I had last November?  I skimmed over the details back then, but basically what happened is that (WARNING:  girl part things ahead -- if you can't stomach girl part things, skip on ahead to the next paragraph)  they removed a troublesome fibroid that had been lodged at the entrance to my cervix and was causing all KINDS of unpleasant shenanigans.  I'm going to spare you the gory details, but life was pretty miserable there for a while.  My most scientific guess would be that the removal of that fibroid allowed my body to work the way it’s supposed to.  Even though I didn't believe that the surgery would improve my fertility, given that I have other underlying issues - it's the most scientifically logical explanation.

But really?  It happened because of God.  Because – no matter what we had planned or how we were trying to direct our lives, God was always still in charge and He insisted on waiting until the timing was perfect. 

And this is perfect timing.  It’s unbelievable.  And thrilling.  And terrifying.   

We have a long road ahead of us, and there are several risk factors – so we’re just praying like crazy for a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby.  This is, without question, the scariest thing I’ve ever done.

What does it mean for our adoption?  For now it means we’re “on hold”.  Our adoption efforts have ceased while we turn our focus to learning more about healthy pregnancy.  This doesn’t mean we no longer want to adopt.  Adoption is something that is very close to our hearts.  Our agency will make us wait one year from the time of birth before we can adopt a child – and frankly, we have no idea what else God has in store for us so we’re just keeping our minds open at this point.  We’ll see what happens.  As it turns out, we are not driving this ship. J

I do plan to keep the blog alive – although obviously the scope will change.  I’ve been writing things for a while now as we waited to break this news.  I still have a hard time believing it’s real, so I often required “proof” before telling a new group of people.  And, well…there’s proof. 

Please meet our little “Nerdlet”.  You’ll be hearing a lot about this little peanut from here on out…



Still a little fuzzy faced - but with cute tiny arms!

Heartsick.

I've written about bullying before.  Other people have written about it better.  I don't really have anything new to say about it, other than that it hit closer to home in our community this past weekend and my heart aches for the little girl whose life was interrupted, and her family who are left to wonder how something like this could happen.

How does something like this happen?  How can we keep our kids safe?  How do we teach our children that each and every single person on this planet is sacred.  We are all beautiful and worthy of love and even if we don't particularly like each other, it is our duty to treat each other with care, dignity and a very basic level of kindness.  Where are we going wrong with this?

Kids are just kids, sure.  And boys will be boys and teenage girls are just mean.  Sure.  But it is our job to teach them how to control those impulses, how to have healthy relationships with their peers, how to respect themselves and how that self respect carries over into a respect for others. 

One of the posts on Facebook related to this was a call to action for parents.  Get involved.  Children don't need that much privacy.  Parents should know - as much as they possibly can know - what's going on with their children, how they're treating others and how others are treating them.  These are the smallest things we, as parents (and future parents) can do - we can be present. 

I'm at a complete loss.  I didn't know this little girl, and I don't know her family but I am crushed that she was hurting so much and didn't know what to do with all that pain.  How do you explain to a thirteen year old that this is as bad as it's ever going to get.  Hold on for five more years.  This is just a blip in time and the whole rest of your life is going to be different than this.  It's impossible to conceptualize that at that age, it's impossible to see through that much pain.  How do you reach those who bully to let them know that they've gone too far before they go past the point of no return?  How do you teach these kids that words matter - they leave scars and bruises just as painful as any physical beating.

Words matter.
How we treat each other matters.

If there is one lesson I hope to teach our future children, above all others, it is that.

R.I.P, Rachel.  I didn't have the honor of knowing you, but you were a beautiful gift to this world.