Feb. 14, 2014

Friday, Feb. 14, 2014

My dad passed away at 3:00 a.m.  We got the call Thursday morning that he was having some trouble breathing and they were taking him to the hospital to get further tests and treatment.

By Thursday at 2:00, we got a call that he had phenomena (with his COPD, not a good combination) and that we should not hesitate to get to the hospital. 

So we packed up the kids and hit the road.  My brother was also driving and would meet us down there. 

My brother got there by 9:30, and we arrived by 10:30.  By the time we got there he was unresponsive, very slow pulse and low oxygen level.

At 2:30, the nurse said for us to go home and get some rest.  She was sure he would make it through the night.  We would be back at 6:30 when the doctor made rounds.

She called us back at 3:00, he was gone.

We had his funeral on Feb. 22^nd.  It was beautiful and lovely and we were so well loved and supported.

I’m sorry for my delay in writing this…we’ve had a lot going on.  And, I just am sad.

I’m so sad because I feel like I have lost my mom all over again.  I’ve lost my dad.  I’ve lost both my parents.  Does one ever really feel like they are truly ready to be on their own without their parents?  I know I was not ready.  I’m struggling each day.  I’m so sad that I have lost my family.  I’m so sad that my children have lost their grandparents, and will never really know them. 

So thankful for my amazing husband and my beautiful children, but I selfishly, want my mom and dad too. 

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.” 
― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

“Everyone grieves in different ways. For some, it could take longer or shorter. I do know it never disappears. An ember still smolders inside me. Most days, I don’t notice it, but, out of the blue, it’ll flare to life.” 
― Maria V. Snyder, Storm Glass

“Now something so sad has hold of us that the breath leaves and we can't even cry.” 
― Charles Bukowski, You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense

The Child Becomes The Parent

After my Mom passed away in 2002, my Dad waited a year, and then moved to Arkansas to be with his brother and the trout.  He loves to spend time fishing on the rivers and lakes there.  It truly is beautiful country.

I always worry about him there.  His brother passed away last summer, and he's there in Arkansas by himself with no family to look after him.  He's getting older (almost 80 now) and has some health issues, main COPD (a form of chronic bronchitis)   A couple of weeks ago, we hadn't heard from him in over a week, and we couldn't get him to answer the phone.  A whole week went by, and no word.  Finally, my brother got a hold of him and learned that he had a fall in the house and just wasn't feel well at all.  He said that he called an ambulance and was in the hospital for a couple of days, but was home now, and doing fine.

Hmmmmm...doesn't sound fine to me???

Finally this last week he called and was very upset and asked that my brother go down and spend the week with him.  He felt terrible and needed help.  This is HUGE for my dad, as he is even more stubborn than I am and will not admit that he ever needs help.

My brother got there Monday and immediately took him to the hospital.  He was in rough, rough shape.  At the hospital they treated him for many things, including bed sores.

Today he is feeling better and being transported to a short term / rehab care facility.

So through all of this, I have had a tremendous amount of guilt.  Everyone says not to, but I do.  My poor Daddy was at home, for over 20 days, getting sicker and sicker, not eating, and I was just living my life.  I could have tried harder to get a hold of him.  I could of called the police to do a well check.  I could have done so many things.  I feel like a terrible daughter.

Now, my brother is with him, doing everything and taking care of everything because I can't really leave.  I have two small children, one of which has to be attached to me at all times to eat and I just can't get to him as quickly as I want or need.

Guilt.  Guilt.  GUILT.

The plan is to hopefully get him well enough to move him to a long term facility here in Kansas where my brother and I can be there to help take care of him and visit him much more frequently.

It just sucks when your life changes and your parent becomes almost another child that needs to be taken care of.

It also brings back so many memories of when my mom was so sick and I was calling family to keep them updated, waiting for the next doctor appointment and always a little nervous when the phone rings because it could be the worst news ever.

To The "@$*&" I Met Last Week

Before I begin my rant, I need to give some background on the situation, I'll try to keep it short.

I see a doctor frequently for the treatment of Plantar Fasciitis in both of my feet from my strenuous workout routine...long miles, pounding of cross training and group fitness take their toll on my arches.  Last week I went in for an "upkeep" appointment, when I met a new employee.

He was a short, but stocky guy.  If I had to guess, he spends a lot of time lifting weights, but probably couldn't run around the block.  He was working on my feet / calves and talking a lot.  I was answering his questions, but not really with much energy or thought as I was tired and just wanted to relax for a minute. Soon we got to the topic of my family; my precious kids.

And that's when he said it.

"Having kids ruins a woman's body."

I literally was in shock that this, MAN, who barely knew me, would say such a thing, or that he would EVER say such a thing to ANY woman.

I just stared at him with a look of complete and utter disbelief, but couldn't get my wits about me to respond.
He was at least smart enough to feel the tension in the room and try to change the subject, but I was long checked out of the conversation.

I have been thinking about this comment for the past week, and becoming more and more bothered and downright ANGRY about his ignorance and rudeness.

After thinking about it, talking to my husband, and stewing over it...this is the response I wish I could have given to his ill-informed, ignorant comment.

"Yes.  My body is different since having children, and so am I.

I am bad ass.  My body has made, from a few cells, two human beings.
I have brought these humans into the world through love, pain, and strength.
My amazing body then nourished these children, and other needy babies, giving them the nutrition and antibodies they need to grow healthy and strong.

I have a few stretch marks around my belly button now that I didn't have before.  Most people would never know they are there, but I know.  I refer to them as my tiger stripes.

My stomach is no longer bikini perfect.  My skin has been stretched and now I have a little extra.  I love that my daughter can see me as a real, imperfect woman, and know that I still love myself and think that I am beautiful.  I am hopeful that this will help her to always love her body and see herself as beautiful everyday.

My chest is larger and makes it hard to fit into many shirts, sweaters and workout tops.  But my larger chest is the perfect place for my son to fall asleep each evening.  He nuzzles in and feels the warmth and comfort that only his mama can give him.

I now have curvy hips.  I don't look like a fourteen year old teenage girl anymore, I have the hips and curves of a mature woman. When I lay in bed, next to my husband, the space between my hips and waist makes the perfect place to rest his hand.

So yes, my body is different...but it is far from ruined.  I love my new body.  Admittedly, it took me some time to appreciate my new curves, but with time, I have grown to appreciate and cherish each change.  I have more confidence, self esteem, and appreciation for my body than I ever did as a 22 year old.  My husband loves my body and still thinks...I got it.  ;)

I am a woman who is a bad ass, and you have nothing on me."

Temporary

Sorry for the LONG lapse between posts!  I have literally been in survival mode!  Husband who travels, booming photography business, house to keep up, two dogs who drive me crazy, working at the gym, and oh yea....returning back to work from my maternity leave!  It's been a lot to handle, and at times, thought it might put me over the edge, but I see the light at the end of the tunnel!

I have had to accept that many things in my life are temporary right now.

Having a baby who wakes in the middle of the night 2 or 3 times to eat and snuggle, is temporary.  While I miss the sleep, I will miss the snuggles and alone, quite time even more.  He's my little snuggle buddy.

Having a 2 1/2 year old who doesn't want to sleep by herself, and only wants her mommy or daddy to be with her, is temporary.  While it is frustrating and a long process, I must also tell myself that in a few years, she won't want us to be with her all the time.  She won't want the snuggles and the time together...this is temporary.

My current post baby body....is temporary.  I hope.  :)  I've really struggled with the post baby body and missing my old self.  I miss my clothes in the closet and how they use to fit...but I keep reminding myself that my main job right now is to feed and sustain little buddy, and that once I'm done nursing, I will get my body back.  The phase I'm in right now is temporary, and I will be back once again.

But the hardest since going back to work, is fitting in my workouts, especially my running.  Every time I try to go, someone in my house is needing something.  Hubs is gone a lot, and that makes it that much harder.  I try to run early in the morning, but buddy wakes up, wants to eat and snuggle, and that's more important than a run.  After work / school, pick kids up, try to fit in a run on the treadmill while buddy naps and little girl watches her favorite cartoon, Caillou, but that has only actually worked out one time.  Something or someone always comes up. I try to go after all the kids are asleep, but lately, getting them down to sleep has taken hours, and by the time they are asleep I'm so exhausted all I can do is go to sleep.  So, I know that this phase of my life is only temporary, and soon I will be up early to run again, but right now...it's hard to accept.  But once again I must remind myself, it is temporary. 

The Birth Story - Part 3

I KNOW!!!  I'm still not done!!!!  When D's head was delivered, his shoulders became stuck.  I am not a big person, ALMOST 5 feet tall and just a little over 100 lbs when not carrying an almost 9 pound baby, so there just wasn't a lot of room for this little one to squeeze out.  As I was trying to push him out and my doctor was trying to deliver him, everyone got quite, and I didn't really notice, I was working too hard.  I later learned from Hubs that baby was starting to turn blue.  That's when my doctor did a quick episiotomy and literally pulled him out with some help from me of course!!  When he came out the bruises covered his body and he had one VERY cone head!!! (My doctor also had to use the vacuum twice.  Once to get past my pubic bone and once after his head was out to get his shoulders.)  He also was not moving his left arm.  After seeing his size and the trauma to get him out, and the arm, it was decided to call in the on-call pediatrician to come and check him out.  They were certain that his collar bone was broken and they wanted the doctor to check all the bruising and make sure it was from the delivery and not something else. 
AGH!  Will this day never end??  The doctor was there within 20 minutes and did a through check over of baby D.  YES, he was bigger than anyone imagined, but he was okay.  The bruises was from the tight fit, the cone head was fine and was already getting better compared to even an hour before, and his collar bone was not broken.  He was just going to be sore and tender.  I hear ya buddy, I hear ya.  So, finally, the labor and delivery was over and I had a healthy baby who I already loved more than I ever thought possible.
The next morning, after all the epidural was worn off, and the pain medicine was time to be taken again, I got my first taste of what I had done to my body. 
I have run many marathons, been through a lot of hard physical training, but nothing, nothing could prepare me for the complete all over body ache, sore, and PAIN that I was experiencing.  I literally could not even move my legs out of the bed with out Hubs help because everything hurt so badly.  He had to help me do everything and I couldn't ever be left alone because I couldn't even get my own baby out of the cradle without help.  I was in rough, rough, shape.  After Miss M's birth I was up and moving within hours!!  I was running again within a week!!  Now...I didn't know if I would ever be able to walk again.  I was hurting...bad.  Finally by the time we were to leave the hospital on Wednesday, Aug. 28th, I could "walk" SLOWLY, but at least without the help of another person.  As long as I stayed current on my pain meds, I could at least move.  I have slowly gotten better each day, but still need my pain meds and wonder if I will ever be the same again!!!  I'm starting to turn the corner, which is giving me some more hope!!! 

The Birth Story - Part 2

So we left off on Sunday evening, August 25th.  Hubs, after a thousand questions of "Are you sure you are okay?" decided to go to his Fantasy Football draft with his phone in his hand at all times. (He can be a little over dramatic when he's excited!!)  I called some other wives of friends who had hubbies at the draft to make dinner plans. We decided to meet for Mexican at 6:00.  At 5:00 I noticed a contraction that had some power to it and made me pause for a moment.  I didn't think much of it and went on with the evening and getting Miss M ready for a night out.  We got to dinner and enjoyed a ladies night out.  I of course was having contractions the whole dinner, but still in denial. Miss M and I got home from dinner and Hubs called to get the report.  I had started timing the contractions when we got home to see if there was any consistency, every 6-7 min.  I told Hubs the update, but also told him not to worry and to stay and finish his draft.   I don't think he was too convinced.  Meanwhile I took a bath, took care of the dogs, and got Miss M into bed.  Hubs was home by 8:30 and by the time he arrived, the contractions were hurting and every 5-6 minutes.  He convinced me to call doctor at 9:00.  I was told to come to hospital when contractions were 3-4 minutes apart.  I still was not convinced this was real labor so I got into my PJ's, into bed and started reading my book.  Hubs was packing the luggage with last minute things and loading the car.  He had me text the friend who would be staying with Miss M. to ask her to come over, just in case.  By 11:00...I was convinced, these contractions are not going away and they are getting longer, stronger, and harder.  We needed to go to the hospital and I was very uncomfortable.
We got to the hospital by 11:20.  I was checked in and told that they would check me in an hour and if I had made progress, I would be admitted. Okay....another hour of these contractions, I can do it.  A slow hour passes, they do a check and I went from a 1.5 Friday night, 3 when I got to hospital on Sunday, to a 4 in the hour!!  Yea!  I was official...this baby was coming.  Thank goodness.  We started the process for an epidural, which takes about another hour.  Finally at 1:45 a.m. I was comfortable with an epidural and trying to get in some shut eye.  I had been progressing beautifully and everyone thought that I would have a baby by 7:30 that morning.  My doctor was coming in at 7:00, so the joke was to try and hold off until then so my doctor could deliver.  My water was being stubborn and not breaking on it's own, so the on call midwife broke it at 5:30 a.m. After my water was broken, I had a terrible bout of nausea and spent some quality time with the little blue barf bags. Ugh.  Not fun....ever.
At 7:30 my doctor came in to check me and I was at a 6-7, and progress was slowing a little, so she suggested some Pitocin to help make the contractions more consistent and stronger. I agreed, let's get this party started.  I got some Pitocin and the official shift change happened.  We got the same day nurse as we had when we delivered Miss M, so Hubs and I were excited.  She is excellent.  We said our goodbyes to the night nurse, who we went to high school with, and made her promise to come and see us in recovery that evening.  She agreed and wished us luck!
So....time started to tick by, and each time I was checked, there was no change.  6-7 cm...hour after hour.  My nurse was trying all the tricks up her sleeve and had me moving and changing positions so much I felt like an acrobat! Side to side, sitting up, on hands and knees...flip, flop, flip, flop.  The Pitocin was cranked up, but not really making a difference. I was really starting to get discouraged, but still trying to stay positive.   Then, I felt the cramps.  Small at first, but still there.  They quickly turned into all out painful contractions with NO break between them because of the Pitocin...just one constant contraction.  They called the anesthesiologist, but he literally took an hour to get there.  He gave me a quick reboot and I was feeling better right away.  Everyone in the room thought it was strange, but just happy that he got me comfortable again.  Tick, tick, tick...hours, hours, hours. No change.  Each time they checked me, I started to feel more and more discouraged.  At around 11:00, my doctor came in for the talk that I knew was coming.  The possible "C-section" talk.  I lost it.  LOST IT.  C-Section was the one thing I did not want.  I live a very active life style and need my abdominal muscles to stay intact!!! Dr. D. was so patient with me and said, okay, let's keep going.  We know you've done this before, we can do it again.  Hubs during this day was amazing.  So patient and encouraging, trying to keep me calm and positive.  He was my rock.  At 3:00 it happened again...I felt the cramps coming back again.  And then the full on, steady contractions.  Another hour of hell and my third anesthesiologist!!  This time the doctor came in and tried to "reboot" the epidural again, but it only partially worked.  So I had to get a whole new epidural...all while having these horrible, never ending contractions.  This was my breaking point, and I'm going to be honest, it was not pretty.  I was a mess, Hubs was trying everything he could, doctor was upset, everyone was just tired.  Especially me!!  Finally, he got me the drugs and A LOT of them and I felt much better and comfortable again.  So back to the waiting game...and the hoping. Still no progress at each check, but my doctor said that my cervix was VERY flexible and soft, just needed the added pressure of the contractions pushing the head down to move it and I would be complete in no time.  Finally at 6:00, we were all done and decided something had to be done.  Either deliver or C-section.  My doctor said that she was willing to try and deliver vaginally if I was willing to.  She said it would be hard because I didn't have the contractions to help me and it would be all me and my strength.  She was basically asking, could I do it?  I had no doubts and I was determined to do it.  Anything to avoid a C-Section!!!  So I started pushing at 6:30 at 7 centimeters.  With each push, my doctor physically helped to push my cervix around the babies head.  After 2 contractions / pushes, I was complete!!  We did it!!  I still had no real help from my uterus, but after 40 minutes of the hardest work of my life, Baby D came into the world!!!  HE WAS HUGE!!!  As his head popped out, my doctor said, "Well that explains it all!!  Your a big baby!!!"  Next came the shoulders, but he was stuck.  The doctor had to do some "magic" and finally the baby was born!!  Everyone in the room was busy and no one remembered to tell me...boy or girl!!  Finally I said, "What is it?"  and my doctor beamed, "BOY!!!"  I was so happy and so surprised!!!  I always had an intuition that it was a boy, but just couldn't make myself believe it was a boy...but here he was, our baby boy!!!!  26 hours of labor, 3 epidurals, a close call to the operating room, and he was here!!!

The Birth Story - Part 1

We are so excited to let you know that we have a new family member....a baby boy!!!!  He arrived Monday evening, Aug. 26th at 7:09 p.m.  His arrival though...is quite the story.

It all started on Wednesday, August 14th, in the evening.  (Now, I'm going to warn you that this blog post has a lot of TMI, so if it bothers you, bow out  now...)  I had to go back to work on the 12th, so I had only been back for a couple of days.  When I got home that evening, I felt rather "slick" down there, so decided to check things out for myself.  Sure enough, at the bathroom check, I discovered that I had lost my mucus plug!!  YEA!!!!  The following day I went to work and had terrible lower back pain and cramps...all day long, no matter what I did or didn't do.  I called my doctor to give her the update and she confirmed, I was in prelabor and could go into REAL labor any minute....or in a couple of weeks.  Awesome.

So...fast forward to Friday, Aug. 23rd.  I had felt good all day (which at this point in my pregnancy was a rarity).  For the evening we decided to head downtown to go to the Buskarfestival.  A fun annual event downtown where "street acts" perform everywhere along the streets...a fun, fun event!!  We headed downtown, got dinner, walked around watching several shows....acrobats, magic, pogo sticks, and many more!! When we walked past my favorite ice cream shop, of course we had to stop! We got our ice cream, I sat down, and whoosh...wet.  My underwear was SOAKED!!  I just sat there a minute to make sure everything was done, then went to the bathroom.  My underwear was wet, really wet, and it certainly didn't smell like pee...but it also wasn't like when my water broke with Miss M....no HUGE gush!  I put on my extra pair of panties (yes, I always carry extra underwear when pregnant!) and went out and told Hubs, his first question with a huge, ornery smile, "Did you pee your pants?!?!"  Very funny.  So we finished our ice cream and decided to walk around some more.  Within a few minutes of walking around, it happened again!!  I didn't have any more underwear, and at this point, Hubs was starting to get nervous, so we decided to head home.

Once we got home, I cleaned up, put on another pair of underwear, and it happened again!!  Much less, but still again.  I decided to call my doctor to see what she thought.  She quickly said to come in and get it all checked out.  Great.  So we went to work ~ getting Miss M to bed, feeding dogs, packing last minute hospital bag items, and calling someone to come over and watch the girl. We had some issues in this area.  Our original plan was not answering phone, so we started down the list of others.  Finally found someone to come over and, almost 4 hours later after first "wetting" incident we were headed to hospital.  Once there, I was hooked up to machines and started testing.  I was having contractions...but only the Braxton Hicks.  After an hour it was decided that it was NEGATIVE for amniotic  fluid and I was sent home.  Okay....fine....whatever.

Saturday woke up and had a normal day...except Hubs was nesting, big time.  He went to the grocery store and bought A LOT of food and made 14....YES FOURTEEN frozen meals and did other little "to-do's" around the house.

Sunday morning I woke up with terrible low back pain and cramps....again.  This time when I went to the bathroom it was "the bloody show".  Great...here we go again....

I took some Tylenol and then headed out the door because I was meeting a family for pictures bright and early.  Hubs thought I was crazy and not over pleased that I was going to keep the appointment.  My whole day was the same....cramps, backache, and bloody show.

Hubs had his fantasy football draft and was asking my opinion if he should go. I of course said, go, nothings going to happen....again.....it's the same prelabor stuff.  I did say, maybe don't drink a whole lot, just in case.

Stay tuned for part two soon!!!

Boy or Girl??!!!???

We are on our countdown...three weeks to due date!  But really, any time is good for me!  I'm at that uncomfortable, large stage that seems to drag on forever.

Hubs and I are both anxiously awaiting...boy or girl!!!  With Miss M's pregnancy, I just knew that I was having a girl...the whole time.  I had a feeling from the moment we found out we were pregnant.  In fact, we didn't even pick out a boys name!! 

But this little one has me stumped!!!  I go back and forth, back and forth on what I'm having...I just can't stick with one gender!! 

Hubs thought that it was a boy from the get go, but has changed his mind over the last few weeks.  He's having dreams that we have two girls, and he has a philosophy that he will only have girls based on his devious and sometimes questionable choices as a younger guy........He thinks having two girls will be his punishment for causing so much trouble for his mother and the father's of many young girls in his youth!  HA! 

Oh Sh*%!

Thursday of last week, while in a rush to get to the pool to meet our playgroup, my big toe got smashed by the front door. It took off half my toenail, and hurt like the dickins!! Miss M was witness to the whole event, including my reaction to the incident.  When Hubbs got home, Miss M was quick to tell him ALL about my toe and even kind enough to reenact the event.

She hopped around on one foot and yelled, "Owwwww!!!  Owww-eeeee!!!" over and over....then she remembered....the four letter words that I said, repeatedly, but honestly don't remember saying.  She had all the bombs....even the F bomb was in there.  All while hopping around and saying "ow" between each bomb.

Now, I seriously think that she over dramatized the event just a bit....I don't think I was quite as dramatic as she portrays, but still feel terrible that she learned all those words from me.  I really thought her first cussing incident would be caused from her father, not me!!

And to top it all off, not only has she done this little act for her father, but for several other people as well, including a house warming party that we attended last night.  Luckily I got her to stop before all the cuss words came, but still embarrassing to say the least.

Super Stud

Five years of infertility battles and thousands of dollars all for the issue to try and have a family despite my Hubby's sperm count, motility and morphology.  All very low and not happy numbers.  Each of the embryos that we made through IVF were not of high quality, which the doctors always blamed on sperm quality.

Then, surprise!  A natural pregnancy, a surprise natural pregnancy that ended in the most beautiful, precious baby girl.

But, how did that happen?  We should never be able to conceive! After that first positive pregnancy test, Hubs went to his urologist for a check-up, and low and behold, his sperm count was better than average, it was GREAT!

Now, second natural pregnancy, and Hubbs is still testing above average.

He of course, has walked around the house since with a new "Super Stud" attitude.  It's fun to see him so happy, and it's great to save some money in the family planning area.  ;)

Updates

Bed Rest:  I have officially been released from bed rest! I still have a lot of contractions, Braxton Hicks, but as long as they don't get regular or painful, it's just my active uterious. Ha!

Sleep Boot Camp:  Success!!! Miss M is sleeping through the night again, and IN her bed!!  Did you hear the sigh of relief from our house?  She is happier also because she isn't as tired.

Boobs and Belly

That's what I am right now...boobs and belly.  I know it is not just in my head because every man I come intto contact with right now....notices also.

Now, please understand, I'm in my third trimester of pregnancy during the heat of the summer.  So my wardrobe consists of tank tops and shorts.  Not the most concealing of wardrobe choices...but my comfort is number one priority right now.

Gas Station:  Sitting in my car, singing and dancing to some great music when a young college kid pulls up.  He's in a small, black Toyota.  We made eye contact, he saw the cleavage, and it was on.  Now....come on buddy, use your clues.  I'm driving a people mover...a "mom" car.  I have a carseat in the backseat...I am way too excited about the music I'm listening to because it is not toddler music! But, his pants were thinking for him and he couldn't see the clues.  Please don't get me wrong, I might have enjoyed the moment.  Hello!  Young, in-shape and flirting with me!  But I also knew that he wasn't seeing the whole picture, as I was sitting in my car.  Then the time came, the click that signals the end of my gas fill-up.  So, as gracefully and smoothly as I could, I climbed out of the car.  I could tell he was ready to give me his "line" and do some smooth talking, but then, he saw it.  The belly.  He literally stopped, and had a moment of processing time. Literally...processing.  He then says, "Oh, sorry mam!!"  !?!?!?!?!?!?  Are you kidding me? MAM?!?!?!?!?!  I just smiled, nodded and got out of there as quickly as possible.  Mam.

Repair Man:  Today I had to wait around the house for the repair man to come and fix our thermastat.  Conviently, he was to arrive anytime between 12:00 and 4:00.  Miss M. was down for her nap and I was cleaning the wood floor when the doorbell rang.  I go to answer the door, and the poor man was floored.  He couldn't decide what to stare at longer...boobs or belly....belly or boobs.  I had to smile to myslef, maybe I should have a little fun?? You know girls....there's cleavage, and then there's "I'm going to display the girls for you" cleavage.  The poor man....but come on, he brought it on himself!!

These are just two of the latest stories....there are too many to share!!!  The only guy who really counts is the hubs....and he loves my boobs AND my belly.

Sleep Boot Camp

"Sleep boot camp" is in full effect at our house.  Miss M. use to be such a GREAT sleeper, and would always sleep through the night.  Then, we took away her crib and gave her a big girl bed, almost two months ago, and we've had problems ever since.

Everything from climbing out of bed, opening door, wondering the hallways, crying, waking up several times a night.

It is exhausting and tiring for all of us, and especially Miss M. who was getting into more trouble than usual because of her tired / crankiness.

Now we have her sleeping through the night again (not without a couple nights of many tears), but the issue now is, she sleeps on the floor and NOT in her bed.

The logical side of me says, "choose your battles", and this is not one of them, and then the other side of me says, "Sleep in your bed that is so comfy and nice and beautiful!!!"

Anyway, right now we are in bribery mode...."If you sleep in your bed, we'll buy you that _____ that you wanted at the Toy Store!" It's not working either.....sigh.

Oh well, I just have to remember that she will not go to college sleeping on the floor. Or if she does, oh well, at least she's sleeping.  

A little drama in our lives...

I must say, Mini Mugs 2 has plenty of personality!  This kiddo, from the get go, has been quite different than little Miss M.  Mini Mugs is a topsy - turvey kid.  One moment it is breech, the next in head down, and the next laying sideways!!  You just never know where he or she will be at any moment. 

Monday night, this little one gave us quite the scare. 

Around 4:15 I started to notice Braxton Hicks contractions, but of course, didn't think much of it.  That's what pregnancy is, especially third trimester.

Then at 6:15, I noticed the contractions were pretty regular and maybe I should lay down.  They didn't hurt, but maybe it was time to put my feet up.  I put in a video for Miss M. and then laid on the couch on my left side.

At 7:00 I went upstairs to help with dinner and was unloading the dishwasher when I noticed the contractions starting to become stronger.  To the point that I couldn't unload dishwasher during the contraction.

So, at 7:30 I went upstairs to lay on our bed and try to relax and breathe and just calm my body. 

By 8:00, Hubbs and I decided to try a warm bath.  And by 8:15, we decided maybe we should time these suckers.

And they were like clockwork, every 2.5 minutes for 30-45 seconds.  And they didn't "hurt", but they were definitely stronger and needed some breathing to get through them.

9:15 I finally called the doctor (I know...I know....) and told the on-call doctor our evening and she said to come in right away. Not what I wanted to hear.

We got to the hospital around 9:40 and went in through the ER.  I was taken right up to 3rd floor, to L&D, and taken to a small "check you out room".  This is where I for sure thought they would monitor me for a short bit and then say, "It's only gas pains silly!  Go home!!"  But no....they monitored and admitted me by 10:30 for preterm labor.  :(

Once I got in my room they started an IV and the regimen of drugs began.  First I got some fluids, then my first shot of Terbutaline.  A med that is very effective at relaxing the uterus.  The doctor also did some tests and checking of my cervix and all of those were very good news.  The doctor thought one shot of Terbutaline would do the trick...but again, Mini Mugs 2 had his or her own plan.  I ended up needing 3 shots of Terbutaline and an IV pain med to also relax all the muscles. 

Finally, at 2:30 a.m. the contractions stopped.  I was there for monitoring for a couple more hours and then, finally, we were sent home.

Now, I am on "Low Activity" for a week and then back next Tuesday for another appointment.  If all looks good, and no more regular contractions, I can resume life back to normal. 

So here's to some time to relax and catch-up on my blog, work on the baby book, watch some good old TV and hopefully catch a nap or two. 

P and V

I remember vividly when I was young my mother, on rare occasions, saying to my dad (usually on the phone because he traveled a lot for work) that, "Miss C. is full of P & V today!!!"

I remember so often trying to figure out WHAT she meant by this phrase...and finally when I was a teenager, when my mother was at her wits end, she finally just said it.  "C...you are full of piss and vinegar!" 

What?!?  This saying doesn't even make any sense!!  I simply rolled my eyes, and went on proceeding to tell my mother how she didn't know anything, and I knew everything.

Today, my loving, sweet, good little Miss M. was full of it...and I found myself saying to Hubs...
"Oh my gosh!  She is full of P & V!"

He looked at me like I was crazy until I told him what it meant.  He had a good laugh.

So today's post is my, "I get it now.  You were right.  What was I thinking Mom!?!?" 

Now Miss M. is sleeping soundly in her bed, looking so sweet and innocent.  I smiled and ahhed....then came downstairs and remembered our day when I saw the paint on the patio door.  Oh yes....Miss M is her mother's daughter.  :)

First Step to Big Sister

This summer we are buying Miss M. a new bedroom set so that we can move her current crib and changing table, etc. to the new nursery.  Last night was the first step in this process....turning her crib into a toddler bed. 

She was SUPER EXCITED!!

 

 

A couple of weeks before I bought the bed rails at a garage sale.  A GREAT deal!  Two bed rails, in great shape, for only $10!!

 

The only problem when purchasing an item at a garage sale is that it doesn't come with directions.  But, really, how hard could putting a bed rail be? 

 

The answer is...a lot more complicated than you can imagine.  Ben and I were trying to figure out this contraption, but we had no luck.  We were both getting a little testy, but talking in that "everything's okay for the child voice".  Anyway, we didn't figure it out and finally just stuck it under the mattress.  Today I will be looking up the directions on the Internet!

 



 It took her a little longer to fall asleep because she was so excited, but once she got to sleep, she had no issues and slept in like a champ!! 

Dunk Tank Tragedy

The last weekend in April we went to Hutchinson for a "work trip" that Hubbs had on his schedule.  It was a fundraiser that all the stores in Hutch were putting on, and I thought it would be a fun family weekend to get away. 

Miss M. loved the hotel...especially the swimming pool.  She's still talking about jumping into the pool and daddy's arms.  We went swimming the night we got there, and then she was up SEVERAL times in the night excited to go again!!  Hubbs finally took her bright and early on Saturday (6:30 a.m. to be exact) and they were back within 20 minutes.  It was a little chilly!!  HA!!!

At the fundraiser, they had many fun things set up for the kids, so Miss M. had a blast!  She got to ride a horse, go in the bounce house, get her face painted, etc.

I was busy doing the "schmoozing" thing.  Meeting all of the people that work for Hubbs and then, meeting his BIG boss who flew in for the event.  I tried to do my best to smile, nod, and laugh at their jokes, and be the amazing and beautiful wife that I am!  HA! 

Part of the fundraiser was the "Dunk Tank".  Hubbs agreed to volunteer to be dunked in the tank.  Now seriously, who wouldn't LOVE to have a chance to dunk their boss into a cold barrel of water on a cool morning??  So people were LINED up and GITTY at the chance to dunk my poor hubby.  I even found myself getting a little defensive of him, but he was having fun and taking it all in good stride.  He was a good sport and climbed right in with no argument. 

Miss M and I were off to the side watching.  I didn't think to talk to her about what was going to happen, bad mommy moment for me.  :(

The first guy stepped up to throw his three softballs.  And let's just say, he was rather aggressive with his throwing.  Everyone was laughing, and having fun, and teasing the guy who was throwing because he was missing badly.  Then his final throw...and you guessed it.  Bulls Eye.

 

And down Hubbs went!!!  He fell hard, and Miss M. LOST IT. 

 

I mean, the most upset I have EVER seen her!  She was WAILING and SCREAMING for her daddy!  We ran up to check on him, and he came up laughing and tried to convince her that he was just fine, but she was having NOTHING to do with it.  She was mad, unhappy, and very upset that people were trying to hurt her daddy!

 

Remember...the line was long, and Hubbs had to get right back up and ready for the next person who started his turn at throwing the softballs.  I was trying to gather our things and get out, but of course, Hubbs went down again before I could get us out of there...and Miss M. was almost beside herself!!

 

Finally, I got everything together and got into the store where she couldn't see.  But she's no dummy.  She knew that Daddy wasn't with us, that he was still outside in the tank, and she could still hear everyone laughing.  There was NO CONSULING her.  She cried, with a broken heart, for over an hour.  By the end, I was crying because I hurt so badly for her.  She just didn't understand.  So many people kept coming into the store to try and offer her things to make her feel better, but we didn't know these strangers, and they were making her madder, because in her eyes, everyone was out to get her daddy.

 

Finally, after an hour, Hubbs came into the store to consult now BOTH of his upset girls.  Miss M. ran to her daddy, snuggled into his chest and continued crying.  She kept touching his cheek and asking him if he was okay.  He kept trying to explain that it was a game, and that he was swimming, but she didn't believe him, not for a minute.

 

So, we decided that it was time to go.  Thank goodness!!  We said our goodbyes and quickly made it to the car to begin our trip home. 

 

It has almost been TWO weeks since this dunk tank incident, and Miss M. still talks about the dunk tank at least twice a day.  "The dunk tank was sad.  I don't like the dunk tank.  Daddy fall down." 

 

So lesson learned?  Give your kids some heads up.  :)

20 Week Sonogram with the Perinatologist

So when you are AMA, you have the chance to get a "special" level 2 sonogram with a Perinatologist. 

Off to Kansas City B and I went Monday morning, bright and early. 

First thing was of course ~ the paperwork.  We were then escorted to a lovely room to go over all the
"odds" from my blood work and our family history of having a kiddo with any genetic disorders. Basically our blood work and history show that we have a very low percentage of having any issues...super!!!

Next was the sonogram. 

A sonogram at my doctor's is a very exciting and fun time!  Lots of smiles, and "oohhh's" and "agh's"...but not here.  It was all business.  The doctor just pointed out each area:  thigh bone, feet, hands, each organ, brain, face, arms.  He called out measurements and the nurse typed it all into a computer.  Then he was done...10 minutes and he was done.

Boo. 

He printed out some pictures, shook our hands and told us we didn't need to come back. 

B and I both were relieved that everything was fine, but sad that we didn't have more time to enjoy our little one and really see him or her move!!  (Yes!! We were still strong and looked away when he was going over "that" section!!!) 

Currently the baby is breech, but hoping and praying that he or she turns within the next 20 weeks! I'm sure everything will be fine, but a mother must have something to worry about, right? 

The only thing new was that this little one continues to be a fast grower and is now 8 days ahead of schedule, putting our "due date" to Sept. 1st...but the nurse said to keep using our original date based off my cycle.

Here are some pictures!!! 

The Dream ~ Boston Marathon

I have run four marathons (in order - San Diego Rock 'N Roll, Chicago, Washington D.C. Marine Corps, and Kansas City), fourteen half marathons, and dozens of shorter 5k and 10k road races.  The Boston Marathon has always been my dream.  As a runner...it is the "Olympics" of sorts.  It is among the elite races.  It is the only marathon, besides the Olympics, in which you must have a qualifying time to enter. 

In the running world, Boston Marathoner's have a respect that is unmatched.  Seeing a stranger in a store wearing a finisher's shirt from the Boston Marathon will almost always draw the attention of other runners, and I have been known to walk up to the person to personally congratulate them on their accomplishment.

I have had the dream of running the Boston Marathon for at least ten years.  My time and my age (the younger you are the faster your time must be) have always held me back.  I had to take a five year hiatus on achieving my dream while going through infertility treatments, and just this past year was working my way back.  I was running speed drills and slowly creeping my time up to the 7:30 - 8:00 minute mile pace for long distances.  I had Boston in my reach...then our surprise miracle two.  I was disappointed that I couldn't run, but wouldn't trade this gift for anything. 

In yesterday's race I had four friends who were lucky enough to be running in the Boston Marathon.  (Thank goodness, all of them are safe and sound).  As they were leaving over the weekend, I told B how jealous I was of their accomplishment and of the amazing race they were having the opportunity to compete in.  Race Day is what months and months of hard work, sweat and tears comes down to; and it is worth every step.  Race Day is a rush of adrenaline and emotion, from start to finish.  Crossing the finish line of a marathon brings laughter, tears, goose bumps, and a sense of euphoria. 

When I heard of the tragedy that occurred during yesterday's Boston Marathon, it stopped my world. 

It was defining moment in my life.  Just as remembering the exact moment that I learned of 9/11, the Sandy Hook shooting, and now the Boston Marathon bombs, I will always remember hearing the shocking news.

The Sandy Hook shooting was an event that stroke too close to home.  I'm a mom and a teacher...and in my mind I could only replay over and over...what if that had been my school, my classroom?  What if that had been my daughter?? 

Learning of the Boston Marathon catastrophe, a marathon dedicated to the victims of the Sandy Hook tragedy, made time stand still. 

I know there is evil in the world.  My dad and brother both served in the Army as Ranger Special Forces, and now my nephew is following in their footsteps.  The evil that they have encountered and fought is unimaginable.  I only know the very superficial facts of what they have experienced, but even those facts are beyond scary and make you want to never leave a bunkered hole in the ground.

As I was watching the special coverage last night, almost 20 weeks pregnant, I was reminded of the young, innocent lives that I was responsible for; my daughter and our new baby.  Miss M. was asleep in her bed, not knowing of the tragedy that occurred, and our new baby I could feel moving, stretching and kicking.

As I watched and listened, I became so emotional.  What kind of world was I bringing my new baby into?  What evil would he or she possibly be exposed to?  How would I ever protect my children from the dangers?

I had a night of tossing and turning, of questions, and emotions.  Since I couldn't sleep, I decided to get up early and go to the one place of comfort that is always there for me.

Running.

I ran on the treadmill while I watched more coverage of the marathon.  While running, I saw and heard things that I was too numb to see and hear last night.

I saw runners who had just crossed the finish line head straight to the hospital to donate blood.

I saw volunteers who were sheltering and leading people to safety.

I saw bystanders who ran into the chaos to help...who ran into the war zone. 

I saw runners and spectators carrying injured people to ambulances. 

I saw first responders who were risking their own lives to try and save the life of another. They had no idea if the bombs were finished or if more were waiting. 

I saw the citizens of Boston offering food, shelter, and blankets to the thousands of guests that were in their city for such a great event.

I saw today what I missed last night.  I saw the hero's of this world.  The helpers of this world.  That good does outweigh evil. 

I saw this morning, while I was running, that I am going to bring my new baby into a world that has many scary and unpredictable things; but more importantly, I am bringing my baby into a world that also has a lot of good. 

Which brings me to the quote from Mr. Roger's.  I'm sure you have all seen it, especially lately, but it holds so true.

 

 

So today, like so many runners around the world, I am wearing one of my many Race Day t-shirts, which happens to be red, the color that the eight year who was killed, was wearing yesterday.  I know it's not much, but it's a way to show the world my empathy and my sympathy for the tragedy. 

 

This tragedy will not stop me...I will, even with more determination now...run in the Boston Marathon one day.  I will make my goal. 

 

But, most importantly, I will teach my children the good in this world and help them to BE the good in the world.  

20 Years

April 14, 1993

I was 15. 

B called my house and I was SO EXCITED that the new popular boy was CALLING ME!!!  I quickly took the phone and ran to the bathroom (luckily the phone had a REALLY LONG cord so it would reach!!).  He was whispering into the phone...and I asked him why he was whispering.  That's when he told me that he was grounded, so he was hiding in the closet, sneaking in the phone call!  He quickly then asked me to "go out" - when you're 15 that's code for be boyfriend / girlfriend.  I said YES!!! 

And that is how we began.

Yesterday, April 14, 2013, we celebrated twenty years together.  Twenty years of ups, downs, laughs, but above all, love. 

He is still the love of my life and still makes my heart beat faster.  We have both changed, a lot, but not our love for each other. 

I'm so lucky that we found each other so early. 

We went on a date last night to the Fork and Screen to see the movie "42" (very good by the way, highly recommend!) and we had a great time.  We talked (and not just talk about kids) and enjoyed each other's company.  It was perfect.  I'm still smiling today.  ;)