Other than that, I have to say that the perk of my day was early this morning when, number 1, I GOT TO SLEEP IN!!!
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Kicked in the hoo-ha aint no happy ending!
Yes, it's exactly how it sounds. I have spent my day being kicked in the hoo-ha. No, that doesn't sound that bad, when you think that the earthling inside me can only have so much power behind his micro-sized feet, but let me tell ya... it aint no picnic (yes, I just used "aint" and yes, there is a red line under it from spell check). I think after about the 43rd time in a 2 hr period I had a better understanding for what men go through when they are kicked in their special place. I've tried everything, standing up, sitting down, laying down, laying down with my legs in the air, laying down with my legs AND butt in the air, walking, cartwheels.... okay well, not actually, but I was contemplating it. What could he be doing in there? Seriously? Is he practicing for the olympics? Although, I'm not sure what sport... kick boxing maybe? Is that even an olympic sport? Who the heck knows.... speaking of nose, my other battle-wound today came from my blossoming and abnormally strong toddler who's head is harder than a giant diamond (in case you are uneducated in the rock thing... diamonds are the hardest rock, material... whatever i'm pregnant i can't remember the right term). Yeah, so a good-night lullaby turned into a head butting contest and ended with a possibly broken nose (I heard a crack and in my book, that's enough to call it a break... but I don't want to look like a sissy, so we'll say "possible break"). Advice of the day: Beware the forehead of a toddler, it's harder than you think!
Other than that, I have to say that the perk of my day was early this morning when, number 1, I GOT TO SLEEP IN!!! and 2, I got to indulge in a little extramarital pregnancy dream (sorry Den). In case you have no idea what that is (that could only be if you've never been pregnant), it's basically a dream on steroids... and in some cases, the passionate make-out session turns out to be a random stranger yet, it's not weird, it's just plain amazing! Thank-you hormones! Don't get me wrong, I did awake feeling slightly guilty... for a brief moment, then I hit snooze and tried to pick up where I left off. I have read that these dreams are totally normal and actually a sign of a healthy, normal, relationship, so don't go betting on divorce dates. It's a way for your super-charged hormones to get out some, eh hem... aggression? Yeah, we'll call it that. Some even come with a happy ending... so I hear. So, happy dreaming pregos!!
Other than that, I have to say that the perk of my day was early this morning when, number 1, I GOT TO SLEEP IN!!!
Friday, November 13, 2009
A quick synopsis of the last 5 months..
Okay, so the whole point of this thing is to document, so here are the cliff notes of the last 5 plus months of pregnancy with baby # 2:
How it all started: Everyone is always taught in high school that it only takes ONE time... but c'mon, who really believes that? Well... I am here to testify on behalf of all 9th grade health teachers and text books that it is... in fact... true. My PG rated version of this story starts with a conversation that Den and I had after Ali was born in which we discussed timing for our next child. Originally, we had said that when Ali was one, we'd start trying again... and we thought... oh how nice it will be to actually be TRYING (as Ali was an example from health class as well). Then, as Ali approached the 1 year mark, we both had a change of heart... it seemed a little too soon being that the year that went by must have only had 7 months in it b/c there was NO way a whole year could go back that fast! Well... a little second honeymoon in the Dominican Republic ruined that idea! Ironically... on Ali's first birthday. And yes... it was another health class lesson. You can just call me fertile myrtle.
I can't be pregnant!: So the DR vacation comes and goes and life returned back to normal. About a month passed and while some family was visiting, I made a comment that I felt so bloated, it looked like I was pregnant. We all had a good chuckle and went out to dinner, had quite a few cocktails, and an over-sized meal. Another two weeks passed and I thought... hmm... maybe I should take a test, and on my way to the bathroom I literally laughed out loud at the outrageous idea that I could be pregnant. I even uttered the words, "I can't be pregnant!" out loud before entering. Two positive pregnancy tests later and I was eating those words..... followed by a nap.
The 24/7 HANGOVER: Those first couple months were rough. Unlike with Ali, where I was plagued by only passing bouts of nausea, this time felt like I had about 15 jager bombs and a bottle of well tequila the night before..... ALL the time! Unlike with the first pregnancy, there was no time to lay in bed.... having a 1 year old while being pregnant is like running a marathon after all-night binge drinking fest.... TORTURE. I swore up and down, left and right that there was NEVER going to be another pregnancy and that this kid was testing the limits. I did consider throwing myself down the stairs a couple times,... but I'll just keep that one to myself (or post it on a blog). When it came time for my 8 week checkup, I had to call Den and make him drive me only to have the doctor say that it wouldn't be until FIFTEEN weeks that I would see some relief.... "I want drugs" is all I could think about and eventually the words popped out of my mouth, but they were quickly shot down by Dr. Safety. What do you have to do to get that stuff, puke on the speculums? Because... I'll do it. I'm not gonna make it here, man. But.... somehow, I made it. Thank GOD it didn't take 15 weeks.
Second Trimester: Once that hangover was gone, I was like a new woman! In fact, I can't remember much from the last couple months. I felt good, I started exercising religiously (due to seeing photos of myself after giving birth to Ali in combination with being asked if I was 5 months pregnant), I became a clean-a-holic which was great for our kitchen, but didn't apply many other places, and I only had to hit snooze 3 times in the morning as opposed to.... well, sleeping through the alarm (and by alarm, I mean Ali crying over the monitor... poor thing, had to make friends with the flowers on her bumper some mornings to keep from boredom). I started to show, for real (not just the... i'm gonna let my beer gut hang out and pretend that it's all baby even though i'm only 8 weeks, showing). I got to go maternity clothes shopping and break out the stretchy-come-up-to-your-boobs pants that every woman should own... and wear during things like Thanksgiving dinner or a long night of beer drinking... they're just great! I FINALLY broke the news to my boss (via text message), who was frantically trying to find out if I was pregnant by asking every person who knows my name. All in all.... things were good.
Some minor set backs: Well, things can't be perfect forever. True to form, I developed a nasty case of bronchitis after a weekend at my parents house, cuddling with Boomie (my dog, that I'm allergic to), which turned into an even nastier case of pneumonia, that kept me out of work for a whole week (I must admit... it was almost nice to have the break). Then, to top it all off, I contracted poison ivy, or oak, or whatever it is from God only knows what (Den had it too) and as of right now, I'm typing with one hand so I can itch my leg with the other. Oh, and did I mention the trip to the ER as a result of another Boomie visit in combo with the pneumonia..... so, just a couple set backs, but the baby is 100% healthy (knock on wood). Hopefully, he'll get his father's immune system.
It's a BOY!: During that mess of a month and a half, we had our second ultrasound and found out the baby is a BOY! Now, there's just one small problem..... the whole name thing. Den prefers names like "Walt" and "Dale" which make me think of a double wide trailor in the middle of a corn field complete with 2 or more old, rusty pick-ups and at least 4 dogs. Do you see what I mean by problem? I on the other hand, prefer more eclectic names like Cooper and Tucker. It's all going to come down to who's got the pen when the birth certificate comes around and I have a feeling, it won't be me. So, if our baby boy's name is Walt Dale Jennings, you'll alllll know who picked it.
You can't see the heart??!!: Everything seemed to be going so well until we went for our 20 week appointment. The first thing out of the doc's mouth was, "Did you come back for the ultrasound of the heart yet?" Den and I both looked at each other in horror b/c everyone knows, you don't come back for another ultrasound unless something is wrong. I replied, "No, why? Is something wrong?" She assured me, there wasn't anything wrong, the ultrasound tech just couldn't see the baby's heart... well, that's what her mouth was saying. Her body language was telling me that I should be worried. Then, they insisted that I come back the following day for the ultra sound which only added to my terror. "Why so soon? What aren't you telling me?" is all I could think of while the doctor walked us out to the check out station where she whispered something to the receptionist and typed in her own notes. I left that office thinking the worst.... all I could do was go over and over in my head all the things that I'd done wrong in the last few months. I cried my eyes out and no amount of "It'll be okays" made a difference. That night, I did some research and found out that it is fairly common to have to go back for things like this... and that I shouldn't worry, but how could I not? In situations like this, I always pray... and I always ask for a sign that everything will be okay. There are two things that I have as staple "good-luck" or "everything is going to be okay" signs.... and they are triple 7's (777) and sunflowers. The next morning, as I was leaving my first account, I prayed that everything would be okay and thought to myself, "777" and as I pull out of the parking lot, a car drives by with "777" on the license plate. I immediately broke into tears of relief and didn't have a doubt from then on. When we got into the ultrasound room and he put the probe on my belly, the first thing he hit, was the heart.... all 4 chambers, beating at a healthy 140 bpm. It just goes to show..... and all kidding aside here...... that God is here and if you look, you will see him.... if you listen, you will hear him... you just have to know how. Little miracles happen right before your eyes everyday..... and so many of them go unnoticed,... so if you ever need a little hope, just keep your eyes open to miracles.
How it all started: Everyone is always taught in high school that it only takes ONE time... but c'mon, who really believes that? Well... I am here to testify on behalf of all 9th grade health teachers and text books that it is... in fact... true. My PG rated version of this story starts with a conversation that Den and I had after Ali was born in which we discussed timing for our next child. Originally, we had said that when Ali was one, we'd start trying again... and we thought... oh how nice it will be to actually be TRYING (as Ali was an example from health class as well). Then, as Ali approached the 1 year mark, we both had a change of heart... it seemed a little too soon being that the year that went by must have only had 7 months in it b/c there was NO way a whole year could go back that fast! Well... a little second honeymoon in the Dominican Republic ruined that idea! Ironically... on Ali's first birthday. And yes... it was another health class lesson. You can just call me fertile myrtle.
I can't be pregnant!: So the DR vacation comes and goes and life returned back to normal. About a month passed and while some family was visiting, I made a comment that I felt so bloated, it looked like I was pregnant. We all had a good chuckle and went out to dinner, had quite a few cocktails, and an over-sized meal. Another two weeks passed and I thought... hmm... maybe I should take a test, and on my way to the bathroom I literally laughed out loud at the outrageous idea that I could be pregnant. I even uttered the words, "I can't be pregnant!" out loud before entering. Two positive pregnancy tests later and I was eating those words..... followed by a nap.
The 24/7 HANGOVER: Those first couple months were rough. Unlike with Ali, where I was plagued by only passing bouts of nausea, this time felt like I had about 15 jager bombs and a bottle of well tequila the night before..... ALL the time! Unlike with the first pregnancy, there was no time to lay in bed.... having a 1 year old while being pregnant is like running a marathon after all-night binge drinking fest.... TORTURE. I swore up and down, left and right that there was NEVER going to be another pregnancy and that this kid was testing the limits. I did consider throwing myself down the stairs a couple times,... but I'll just keep that one to myself (or post it on a blog). When it came time for my 8 week checkup, I had to call Den and make him drive me only to have the doctor say that it wouldn't be until FIFTEEN weeks that I would see some relief.... "I want drugs" is all I could think about and eventually the words popped out of my mouth, but they were quickly shot down by Dr. Safety. What do you have to do to get that stuff, puke on the speculums? Because... I'll do it. I'm not gonna make it here, man. But.... somehow, I made it. Thank GOD it didn't take 15 weeks.
Second Trimester: Once that hangover was gone, I was like a new woman! In fact, I can't remember much from the last couple months. I felt good, I started exercising religiously (due to seeing photos of myself after giving birth to Ali in combination with being asked if I was 5 months pregnant), I became a clean-a-holic which was great for our kitchen, but didn't apply many other places, and I only had to hit snooze 3 times in the morning as opposed to.... well, sleeping through the alarm (and by alarm, I mean Ali crying over the monitor... poor thing, had to make friends with the flowers on her bumper some mornings to keep from boredom). I started to show, for real (not just the... i'm gonna let my beer gut hang out and pretend that it's all baby even though i'm only 8 weeks, showing). I got to go maternity clothes shopping and break out the stretchy-come-up-to-your-boobs pants that every woman should own... and wear during things like Thanksgiving dinner or a long night of beer drinking... they're just great! I FINALLY broke the news to my boss (via text message), who was frantically trying to find out if I was pregnant by asking every person who knows my name. All in all.... things were good.
Some minor set backs: Well, things can't be perfect forever. True to form, I developed a nasty case of bronchitis after a weekend at my parents house, cuddling with Boomie (my dog, that I'm allergic to), which turned into an even nastier case of pneumonia, that kept me out of work for a whole week (I must admit... it was almost nice to have the break). Then, to top it all off, I contracted poison ivy, or oak, or whatever it is from God only knows what (Den had it too) and as of right now, I'm typing with one hand so I can itch my leg with the other. Oh, and did I mention the trip to the ER as a result of another Boomie visit in combo with the pneumonia..... so, just a couple set backs, but the baby is 100% healthy (knock on wood). Hopefully, he'll get his father's immune system.
It's a BOY!: During that mess of a month and a half, we had our second ultrasound and found out the baby is a BOY! Now, there's just one small problem..... the whole name thing. Den prefers names like "Walt" and "Dale" which make me think of a double wide trailor in the middle of a corn field complete with 2 or more old, rusty pick-ups and at least 4 dogs. Do you see what I mean by problem? I on the other hand, prefer more eclectic names like Cooper and Tucker. It's all going to come down to who's got the pen when the birth certificate comes around and I have a feeling, it won't be me. So, if our baby boy's name is Walt Dale Jennings, you'll alllll know who picked it.
You can't see the heart??!!: Everything seemed to be going so well until we went for our 20 week appointment. The first thing out of the doc's mouth was, "Did you come back for the ultrasound of the heart yet?" Den and I both looked at each other in horror b/c everyone knows, you don't come back for another ultrasound unless something is wrong. I replied, "No, why? Is something wrong?" She assured me, there wasn't anything wrong, the ultrasound tech just couldn't see the baby's heart... well, that's what her mouth was saying. Her body language was telling me that I should be worried. Then, they insisted that I come back the following day for the ultra sound which only added to my terror. "Why so soon? What aren't you telling me?" is all I could think of while the doctor walked us out to the check out station where she whispered something to the receptionist and typed in her own notes. I left that office thinking the worst.... all I could do was go over and over in my head all the things that I'd done wrong in the last few months. I cried my eyes out and no amount of "It'll be okays" made a difference. That night, I did some research and found out that it is fairly common to have to go back for things like this... and that I shouldn't worry, but how could I not? In situations like this, I always pray... and I always ask for a sign that everything will be okay. There are two things that I have as staple "good-luck" or "everything is going to be okay" signs.... and they are triple 7's (777) and sunflowers. The next morning, as I was leaving my first account, I prayed that everything would be okay and thought to myself, "777" and as I pull out of the parking lot, a car drives by with "777" on the license plate. I immediately broke into tears of relief and didn't have a doubt from then on. When we got into the ultrasound room and he put the probe on my belly, the first thing he hit, was the heart.... all 4 chambers, beating at a healthy 140 bpm. It just goes to show..... and all kidding aside here...... that God is here and if you look, you will see him.... if you listen, you will hear him... you just have to know how. Little miracles happen right before your eyes everyday..... and so many of them go unnoticed,... so if you ever need a little hope, just keep your eyes open to miracles.
The Joys of Motherhood.... Minus a Brain
I have come to the conclusion that pregnancy is as much a mental condition as it is a physical one... or should I say.. a mental HANDICAP! I've always prided myself on my ability to memorize numbers, remember tiny details, and almost NEVER make stupid, completely avoidable, mistakes. Well, I can officially say that skill has been hit by a truck, run over a couple times, then thrown back on the highway. My career has taken the biggest hit and my poor accounts are starting to look at me as if I've gone nuts. But, maybe that's what being pregnant it, after all. Things as simple as remembering to wear underwear are requiring a sticky-note on my mirror and more complicated tasks, like remembering to send my orders through at the end of the day, may as well be tattooed on my forehead! Or how about this one.... I can't even remember what I was going to write next, so I think I'll just leave it at that.
Introduction
So after reading Jess's ingenious, witty, and entertaining blog about her journey through pregnancy, I decided that I was going to start one of my own if for nothing more than to have these moments documented (especially since Den insists this is the LAST one and he's getting snipped after the birth). I can't promise a best seller here, but it may be mildly entertaining at times. Although... I have NO idea what I'm doing. This will surely be a learning experience as well as a HUGE surprise if I even complete more than one post and don't abandon this after the introduction.
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