Apparently I must have sounded pathetic in my last blog post, cause yesterday I got a call from my old friend Naida, who decided to take pity on me and drive from Boston to visit and cook. Naida, in addition to her many other talents, is a trained pastry chef, so there was definitely an element of "ooh, we're going to eat really good all weekend" to my excitement.
I met Naida in my pre-mommy days, and it's good to have someone from the long ago and far away to give me some perspective on my life outside of mommydom. It's so easy to forget that six years ago, I had a life that didn't involve constantly watching for life's hidden dangers, like wall outlets and magnets. We used to work together, in my wild and crazy single days living in Boston - you know the days my kids will never believe I had.
As moms we so easily give up our whole selves to our kids, we need to remember that our kids don't define us. That's part of the reason I am so glad to have friends like Naida from the 'old days', and also why "Moms Night Out" is vital to my sanity. Without my fellow moms, I'd go totally mad!
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
34 weeks
Wow, time flies when you're having fun... which is how I can prove for certain that the last 10 weeks of pregnancy are no fun at all! It's amazing how the first and second trimester flew by and for all my effort to convince myself that February is a short month, I can't shake the feeling that it's forever until I have little Bullseye.
To take my mind of things, the kids have all graciously decided to get sick at one time. There's a special kind of hell that is three kids having three fevers and three coughs in the same night. Add to that, my pregnancy issues and Jeff's "surgical" scars, and the five of us were a pretty pitiful crew this weekend. I'm patiently waiting for the part of the movie where the cavalry arrives and tells me that they'll do all the laundry and cooking for a week or so. :)
By way of getting out of the house today, without overly exposing anyone to our germs, I took the kids to Babies R Us with the idea that they could each pick a small gift out for Bullseye. Ellie right away picked out a stuffed dog and Maggie chose a frilly, girly outfit. I tried to explain to Mags that we couldn't get a girly outfit, cause we don't know what kind of baby we're having. She threw an epic fit - screaming and yelling that it was a girl baby and that was it. She doesn't want a boy baby. She only wants a girl baby. Don't know how we're going to handle that in case it doesn't go her way in the end. Ellie, ever the problem solver, says to me that we can buy two outfits, one boy, one girl and then take back whichever we don't need. When did she learn about returns???
My cousin Susan is now 38 weeks preggers, and my friend Krisanne is 36, so I'm now marking time by the buns in their ovens. I'm trying not to go crazy like I always do at the end of pregnancy. I think I'm probably going to fail, but it's worth a shot. My cousin Lori, who is also pregnant, keeps reminding me that this is my last pregnancy and I should try to savor it. To me, that's like trying to savor a root canal. Pregnancy is cool and all, but seriously, I'm way more into actually having the baby.
Remind me of that when I'm blogging about how little sleep we're getting!
To take my mind of things, the kids have all graciously decided to get sick at one time. There's a special kind of hell that is three kids having three fevers and three coughs in the same night. Add to that, my pregnancy issues and Jeff's "surgical" scars, and the five of us were a pretty pitiful crew this weekend. I'm patiently waiting for the part of the movie where the cavalry arrives and tells me that they'll do all the laundry and cooking for a week or so. :)
By way of getting out of the house today, without overly exposing anyone to our germs, I took the kids to Babies R Us with the idea that they could each pick a small gift out for Bullseye. Ellie right away picked out a stuffed dog and Maggie chose a frilly, girly outfit. I tried to explain to Mags that we couldn't get a girly outfit, cause we don't know what kind of baby we're having. She threw an epic fit - screaming and yelling that it was a girl baby and that was it. She doesn't want a boy baby. She only wants a girl baby. Don't know how we're going to handle that in case it doesn't go her way in the end. Ellie, ever the problem solver, says to me that we can buy two outfits, one boy, one girl and then take back whichever we don't need. When did she learn about returns???
My cousin Susan is now 38 weeks preggers, and my friend Krisanne is 36, so I'm now marking time by the buns in their ovens. I'm trying not to go crazy like I always do at the end of pregnancy. I think I'm probably going to fail, but it's worth a shot. My cousin Lori, who is also pregnant, keeps reminding me that this is my last pregnancy and I should try to savor it. To me, that's like trying to savor a root canal. Pregnancy is cool and all, but seriously, I'm way more into actually having the baby.
Remind me of that when I'm blogging about how little sleep we're getting!
Saturday, January 16, 2010
My turn.
Ah... so this week was my birthday. I thought about asking my mom to blog about it for me, and I still may. I know that I was born a couple weeks early, induced because of my mom's pre-eclampsia. I was a bitty thing - 5lbs 3 oz - and not a very attractive baby, if the pictures are to be believed.
As anyone with a birthday close to Christmas will tell you, it sort of sucks. There's a lot of that "this is for Christmas AND your birthday" stuff going on, and even at 6 I knew damned well that they weren't giving my brother and Christmas/Birthday presents. No, he'd get another whole round of gifts in June! To this day, I refuse to open birthday presents given to me at Christmas until my birthday. My poor mom, her birthday is December 27, so she really gets the fuzzy end of the lollipop. When Jeff and I talked about having kids, I swore that I wouldn't have a child near Christmastime... and hello Ellie my little January 4th baby. Oh well, the best laid plans.... Anyway, all this may lead you to the idea that I might be a little bit sensitive about my birthday, and you'd be right. So in my adulthood, this has translated into I like to throw parties for myself and make a big fuss over it.
For my 30th birthday, Jeff threw me a big surprise party at a deuling piano bar in Baltimore. I knew that there was a party, and I knew that it was at Howl at the Moon, but what I didn't know was that he had secretly told everyone to wear shorts and t-shirts under their sweaters and he'd bought luau paraphanalia from Oriental Trading Company. At a signal, shirts and pants came off, the box was whipped out and suddenly I was surrounded by people in grass skirts and Hawaiian shirts... a luau in January!
For my 34th, I had an "adult" party here at the house for my girlfriends. We had a denmonstrator from Pure Romance or one of those places come and show us her wares. I am not really a girl who talks about such things, so my friends took great pleasure in my embarrasment and watching me blush with each more outrageous thing she would display. The best part of that night was when she had Johna "try on" a piece of equipment (over her clothes thankyou) and then turned it on without telling her. Johna, who is about 110 soaking wet, damn near knocked the girl over my railing and down the stairs.
And this year, I've hired a psychic to come and do readings for some of my friends. I used to go every year on my birthday with my friend Casey and it's a fun little tradition I've missed since Boston. So, my next blog will contain all her predictions for my future... I'm hoping she'll tell me when this baby is coming and maybe even what flavor of baby I'm having! Stay tuned!
As anyone with a birthday close to Christmas will tell you, it sort of sucks. There's a lot of that "this is for Christmas AND your birthday" stuff going on, and even at 6 I knew damned well that they weren't giving my brother and Christmas/Birthday presents. No, he'd get another whole round of gifts in June! To this day, I refuse to open birthday presents given to me at Christmas until my birthday. My poor mom, her birthday is December 27, so she really gets the fuzzy end of the lollipop. When Jeff and I talked about having kids, I swore that I wouldn't have a child near Christmastime... and hello Ellie my little January 4th baby. Oh well, the best laid plans.... Anyway, all this may lead you to the idea that I might be a little bit sensitive about my birthday, and you'd be right. So in my adulthood, this has translated into I like to throw parties for myself and make a big fuss over it.
For my 30th birthday, Jeff threw me a big surprise party at a deuling piano bar in Baltimore. I knew that there was a party, and I knew that it was at Howl at the Moon, but what I didn't know was that he had secretly told everyone to wear shorts and t-shirts under their sweaters and he'd bought luau paraphanalia from Oriental Trading Company. At a signal, shirts and pants came off, the box was whipped out and suddenly I was surrounded by people in grass skirts and Hawaiian shirts... a luau in January!
For my 34th, I had an "adult" party here at the house for my girlfriends. We had a denmonstrator from Pure Romance or one of those places come and show us her wares. I am not really a girl who talks about such things, so my friends took great pleasure in my embarrasment and watching me blush with each more outrageous thing she would display. The best part of that night was when she had Johna "try on" a piece of equipment (over her clothes thankyou) and then turned it on without telling her. Johna, who is about 110 soaking wet, damn near knocked the girl over my railing and down the stairs.
And this year, I've hired a psychic to come and do readings for some of my friends. I used to go every year on my birthday with my friend Casey and it's a fun little tradition I've missed since Boston. So, my next blog will contain all her predictions for my future... I'm hoping she'll tell me when this baby is coming and maybe even what flavor of baby I'm having! Stay tuned!
Friday, January 8, 2010
31 weeks and counting
I've officially reached the point in pregnancy when people look at me and either smile benevolently or look worried that my water is going to break. When I was pregnant the first time, I never asked for help or took it when it was offered, but I've learned that the kindness of man only extends so far and you might as well take advantage while you can. For instance, I regularly get offered help to the car with groceries, packages, etc., when I DON'T have any kids with me. When the children are with me, I'm on my own. And God forbid you do anything like grocery shop with a newborn... people are as likely to tell you how irresponsible a parent you are for bringing your new baby out as they are to help you. I had a man in Costco seriously get in my face when Jack was about two weeks old for bringing him to the store. I finally told him that he had two older sisters and the dangers were probably fewer in public than at home.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Seriously, she's 5?
I know it's the old cliche, but man, the years do fly. Actually, I heard it put a better way by my friend Mish, the days are long, but the years are short. My Elliebelliecicleweedpie is 5. I don't know why that seems momentous, but it certainly does.
As I have done for her sister and brother, I guess I should take a moment to chronicle her birth here in cyberspace...
Jeff and I had lunch one day in April 2004, and had a couple beers. We had been "trying" to get pregnant for a month or two and when we got home, with a bit of an afternoon buzz on, Jeff told me to take a pregnancy test. I went to the powder room, and Jeff played the piano to distract himself... much to my shock, it was positive. I walked out of the bathroom and said "Jeff?" He stopped playing, turned around to look at me and I just nodded. Speechless, he simply hugged and kissed me and we just sort of looked at each other in a "what do we do now" kind of way. Immediately, we said we would keep it a secret for the prescribed 12 weeks. After about 30 seconds of complete secrecy, I decided that I would be completely unable to talk to my mother for 8 more weeks and this was not a tenable solution. So we agreed to call the grandparents that day, and "just tell them". Their reactions were much as you'd think they'd be - total joy and surprise. First thing the next morning, my mother called me, telling me that they'd determined that they would be buying a pony, installing a merry go round and hiring a clown within the next 9 months.
Jeff referred to my first pregnancy as the "Great Wife Experiment" and that it was. He largely stared at me like I was an interesting, if terrifying specimen of never before seen insect, until I finally freaked out about it at week 9 or so. Mercifully, I never suffered morning sickness, but the first trimester exhaustion was something I could never have imagined. I would get home from work at 6:30, sleep until 7:30, Jeff would wake me for dinner, I'd eat, drooping in my plate, and then go to bed by 8:30. Each morning, Jeff would make me lovely yogurt smoothies and send me to work with bags of healthy snacks and strict instructions to drink 400 ounces of water.
Before I got pregnant, I had some recurring back trouble and was actually scheduled for an MRI that was cancelled because of pregnancy. During the second and third trimesters, my back grew increasingly painful, but I mostly attributed it to pregnancy weight gain. By the third trimester, I couldn't really pick my left foot up much past stair height and actually needed assistance to do things like tie my shoes. My other complaint was heart racing. I would be sitting perfectly still and suddenly, my heart would begin to beat as though I was running a race, getting into the 120s - 140s. Luckily, I was working at an office furniture dealership, cause after this happened, I'd have to lay down for twenty minutes, so the couches came in handy. My doctor, who was very soft spoken, calm doctor, told me this was perfectly normal and if it got worse, he'd put me on bedrest. This was Dr. Yadav's answer to any question - "Dr. Yadav, my head fell off yesterday. That's normal, if it gets worse, we'll put you on bedrest." When this heart racing thing started to happen while I was driving on the Capital Beltway, however, I got nervous. Nothing like thinking you're going to pass out while driving on that crazy road to make you think twice about driving. So, Dr. Yadav put me on "house arrest" meaning I couldn't drive anymore. The day before Thanksgiving 2004 was my last day of work in 5 years...
Now stuck at home, I became fully convinced that I would have this baby early. Jeff was 6 weeks early, and so was I, so surely our baby would be early. The holidays sped towards me and I still had a baby on board. My due date was December 28, and I thought I would certainly have a baby before Christmas. Christmas eve, we drove to 34th Street in Baltimore and oohed and aahed over the crazy light display and all the while I silently counted contractions. I hoped that this was the big one... nope. December 25, 26, 27, 28... nothing. December 29, 30... nothing. I developed the "three freakout a day" pattern: 1. Wake up and cry cause I'm still pregnant 2. Look at the clock at 3PM and cry cause even if I go into labor today, I won't have a baby until tomorrow 3. Go to bed crying cause I'm still not in labor.
The phone became my enemy. Every call was some well meaning person asking if we'd had the baby, and God forbid you don't answer when you're 41 weeks pregnant. Jeff sent emails telling people "don't call us, we'll call you." New Year's Eve, we possibly the morosest dinner of our marriage at Hunan Manor in Columbia. New Year's Day, we drove to Ocean City, MD, three hours from our hospital, in a bid to dare my uterus to act up. Finally on January 3, 2005, we went to Dr. Yadav for our 41 week exam and he told us that we were going to have a baby sometime in the next 24 hours.
You see, I had gone for an ultrasound the Friday before, and the result was that they were estimating the baby would be 10 pounds, 6 ounces and they didn't want it to get any bigger so induction it was for me. HOLY CRAP! My mind screamed in denial. Jeff and I together didn't weigh 10 lbs 6 oz at birth. After mentally running around like chickens with our heads cut off, Jeff and I got our shit together, called grandparents and our friends and invited them all to have dinner with us one last time. My induction was to start at 10PM that night. I'd be on the pitocin drip all night and then in the morning, they'd start cranking it up.
So we had dinner, and then Jeff and I and our fourteen suitcases of crap went to the hospital for our induction. Let me say, Howard County General Hospital has a NICE birthing facility. The room looked like a hotel. It wasn't really until after, when I saw the pictures that I saw any medical equipment at all. It was all hidden by art work and cabinetry when I arrived. I had planned to go without an epidural, but once there, I found out that since I was an induction, I would be strapped to the bed and I said, bring on the pain meds. An IV of Nubain later, I slept all night. My last full night of sleep since.
The next day, the nurse started cranking up my pitocin. I got a lovely epidural and the grandparents all arrived to watch the Erin show. Our nurse was a nice girl, though she did seem a bit odd. Before I got the epidural, she told me to go to the bathroom, which I did. Apparently, the nurse was supposed to record this bit of information, because a little while after the parents arrived, the charge nurse came into our room and confronted our nurse, yelling at her for basic incompetance and saying that she could have caused me to have an emergency C section. They both left the room, leaving us all a bit unnerved, and then a new nurse came in and introduced herself. A few minutes after that, the original nurse comes back into the room, crying about being sent home and not being allowed to work on that floor anymore. So there I am, in labor, hugging a perfect stranger and telling her it'll be alright. What a looney.
Shortly after that excitement, it became clear that a baby was coming soon. Dr. Yadav came in, spoke quietly about how he loved the room we were in because you could watch the Medevac copter land from there and got suited up. Everyone, except Jeff and Mom cleared out to do the waiting room thing. When the moment came to push, suddenly, my quiet doctor, the man who had hardly ever spoken above a loud whisper became Mr. Hyde, shouting at me to "PUSH, PUSH, PUSH, HARDER, HARDER, HARDER." I was so shocked I swear I pushed simply so he would stop yelling at me.
Pushing was short and sweet only about an hour and out came the baby... I heard "It's a girl!" from the nurse and "She has dimples" from my mom. My first words were, "Jeff, give me your wallet" cause I knew the combo of a girl and dimples would be his undoing. Elizabeth Helen Lacey was a petite 8 lbs 9 oz, a little off from the late ultrasound estimate.
Ellie gets her name from two of her great grandmothers. You see, Jeff and I both lost our grandmothers within a couple weeks of each other. We still weren't in contact at the time, but the way we have it figured, Elizabeth Hoover and Helen Lacey must have met up in heaven and realized that their grandkids knew each other. We attribute our reuniting to them, so when we found out we were pregnant, we knew within moments that if it was a girl, she would be named for these two women we loved so dearly and missed so much. I hope that someday, we'll be able to explain to Ellie how the grace of those two ladies touched our lives and left a mark so great that we honored her with their names.
On a couple of side notes, the wacky nurse actually came to visit me in the maternity ward. I was nice to her, cause I was afraid she'd try to steal my baby or something. When I found out that I was preggers with Maggie, I went to a new practice in Columbia - one with midwives that hopefully wouldn't yell at me - and the midwife asked me why I wanted to try birth with a midwife and I explained that I was a little shaken by the idea that one person had such control over me and she said "Oh, that was YOU?" It seems the story of that nurse had made some news among the medical community in Columbia. Also, the back pain I had talked about... well, it got way worse after birth, but I was still trying to make it be about pregnancy weight. I was unable to walk any distance at all, and I mean the distance from the couch to the TV was pushing it. I went to the doctor about my wrist, which I had hurt during labor. She noticed that I was walking strangely, and after a short exam, sent me for an MRI. That was Tuesday. By Wednesday, I had seen a neurologist, and had a discectomy scheduled for Friday. The neurologist said that he'd never seen anyone with a herniation as large as mine that was able to walk, let alone control their bodily functions. The following week, I was right as rain... and I've never had back problems again. It was amazing.
All in all, Ellie has brought great joy to so many people - I never get tired of watching her charm people with her intelligence and her inquisitiveness. She is a totally unique person and she is my total joy. I try not to play favorites with my kids, but my Ellie is truly my girl in every way. I love her and I can't wait to see the girl/young lady/woman she grows into.
As I have done for her sister and brother, I guess I should take a moment to chronicle her birth here in cyberspace...
Jeff and I had lunch one day in April 2004, and had a couple beers. We had been "trying" to get pregnant for a month or two and when we got home, with a bit of an afternoon buzz on, Jeff told me to take a pregnancy test. I went to the powder room, and Jeff played the piano to distract himself... much to my shock, it was positive. I walked out of the bathroom and said "Jeff?" He stopped playing, turned around to look at me and I just nodded. Speechless, he simply hugged and kissed me and we just sort of looked at each other in a "what do we do now" kind of way. Immediately, we said we would keep it a secret for the prescribed 12 weeks. After about 30 seconds of complete secrecy, I decided that I would be completely unable to talk to my mother for 8 more weeks and this was not a tenable solution. So we agreed to call the grandparents that day, and "just tell them". Their reactions were much as you'd think they'd be - total joy and surprise. First thing the next morning, my mother called me, telling me that they'd determined that they would be buying a pony, installing a merry go round and hiring a clown within the next 9 months.
Jeff referred to my first pregnancy as the "Great Wife Experiment" and that it was. He largely stared at me like I was an interesting, if terrifying specimen of never before seen insect, until I finally freaked out about it at week 9 or so. Mercifully, I never suffered morning sickness, but the first trimester exhaustion was something I could never have imagined. I would get home from work at 6:30, sleep until 7:30, Jeff would wake me for dinner, I'd eat, drooping in my plate, and then go to bed by 8:30. Each morning, Jeff would make me lovely yogurt smoothies and send me to work with bags of healthy snacks and strict instructions to drink 400 ounces of water.
Before I got pregnant, I had some recurring back trouble and was actually scheduled for an MRI that was cancelled because of pregnancy. During the second and third trimesters, my back grew increasingly painful, but I mostly attributed it to pregnancy weight gain. By the third trimester, I couldn't really pick my left foot up much past stair height and actually needed assistance to do things like tie my shoes. My other complaint was heart racing. I would be sitting perfectly still and suddenly, my heart would begin to beat as though I was running a race, getting into the 120s - 140s. Luckily, I was working at an office furniture dealership, cause after this happened, I'd have to lay down for twenty minutes, so the couches came in handy. My doctor, who was very soft spoken, calm doctor, told me this was perfectly normal and if it got worse, he'd put me on bedrest. This was Dr. Yadav's answer to any question - "Dr. Yadav, my head fell off yesterday. That's normal, if it gets worse, we'll put you on bedrest." When this heart racing thing started to happen while I was driving on the Capital Beltway, however, I got nervous. Nothing like thinking you're going to pass out while driving on that crazy road to make you think twice about driving. So, Dr. Yadav put me on "house arrest" meaning I couldn't drive anymore. The day before Thanksgiving 2004 was my last day of work in 5 years...
Now stuck at home, I became fully convinced that I would have this baby early. Jeff was 6 weeks early, and so was I, so surely our baby would be early. The holidays sped towards me and I still had a baby on board. My due date was December 28, and I thought I would certainly have a baby before Christmas. Christmas eve, we drove to 34th Street in Baltimore and oohed and aahed over the crazy light display and all the while I silently counted contractions. I hoped that this was the big one... nope. December 25, 26, 27, 28... nothing. December 29, 30... nothing. I developed the "three freakout a day" pattern: 1. Wake up and cry cause I'm still pregnant 2. Look at the clock at 3PM and cry cause even if I go into labor today, I won't have a baby until tomorrow 3. Go to bed crying cause I'm still not in labor.
The phone became my enemy. Every call was some well meaning person asking if we'd had the baby, and God forbid you don't answer when you're 41 weeks pregnant. Jeff sent emails telling people "don't call us, we'll call you." New Year's Eve, we possibly the morosest dinner of our marriage at Hunan Manor in Columbia. New Year's Day, we drove to Ocean City, MD, three hours from our hospital, in a bid to dare my uterus to act up. Finally on January 3, 2005, we went to Dr. Yadav for our 41 week exam and he told us that we were going to have a baby sometime in the next 24 hours.
You see, I had gone for an ultrasound the Friday before, and the result was that they were estimating the baby would be 10 pounds, 6 ounces and they didn't want it to get any bigger so induction it was for me. HOLY CRAP! My mind screamed in denial. Jeff and I together didn't weigh 10 lbs 6 oz at birth. After mentally running around like chickens with our heads cut off, Jeff and I got our shit together, called grandparents and our friends and invited them all to have dinner with us one last time. My induction was to start at 10PM that night. I'd be on the pitocin drip all night and then in the morning, they'd start cranking it up.
So we had dinner, and then Jeff and I and our fourteen suitcases of crap went to the hospital for our induction. Let me say, Howard County General Hospital has a NICE birthing facility. The room looked like a hotel. It wasn't really until after, when I saw the pictures that I saw any medical equipment at all. It was all hidden by art work and cabinetry when I arrived. I had planned to go without an epidural, but once there, I found out that since I was an induction, I would be strapped to the bed and I said, bring on the pain meds. An IV of Nubain later, I slept all night. My last full night of sleep since.
The next day, the nurse started cranking up my pitocin. I got a lovely epidural and the grandparents all arrived to watch the Erin show. Our nurse was a nice girl, though she did seem a bit odd. Before I got the epidural, she told me to go to the bathroom, which I did. Apparently, the nurse was supposed to record this bit of information, because a little while after the parents arrived, the charge nurse came into our room and confronted our nurse, yelling at her for basic incompetance and saying that she could have caused me to have an emergency C section. They both left the room, leaving us all a bit unnerved, and then a new nurse came in and introduced herself. A few minutes after that, the original nurse comes back into the room, crying about being sent home and not being allowed to work on that floor anymore. So there I am, in labor, hugging a perfect stranger and telling her it'll be alright. What a looney.
Shortly after that excitement, it became clear that a baby was coming soon. Dr. Yadav came in, spoke quietly about how he loved the room we were in because you could watch the Medevac copter land from there and got suited up. Everyone, except Jeff and Mom cleared out to do the waiting room thing. When the moment came to push, suddenly, my quiet doctor, the man who had hardly ever spoken above a loud whisper became Mr. Hyde, shouting at me to "PUSH, PUSH, PUSH, HARDER, HARDER, HARDER." I was so shocked I swear I pushed simply so he would stop yelling at me.
Pushing was short and sweet only about an hour and out came the baby... I heard "It's a girl!" from the nurse and "She has dimples" from my mom. My first words were, "Jeff, give me your wallet" cause I knew the combo of a girl and dimples would be his undoing. Elizabeth Helen Lacey was a petite 8 lbs 9 oz, a little off from the late ultrasound estimate.
Ellie gets her name from two of her great grandmothers. You see, Jeff and I both lost our grandmothers within a couple weeks of each other. We still weren't in contact at the time, but the way we have it figured, Elizabeth Hoover and Helen Lacey must have met up in heaven and realized that their grandkids knew each other. We attribute our reuniting to them, so when we found out we were pregnant, we knew within moments that if it was a girl, she would be named for these two women we loved so dearly and missed so much. I hope that someday, we'll be able to explain to Ellie how the grace of those two ladies touched our lives and left a mark so great that we honored her with their names.
On a couple of side notes, the wacky nurse actually came to visit me in the maternity ward. I was nice to her, cause I was afraid she'd try to steal my baby or something. When I found out that I was preggers with Maggie, I went to a new practice in Columbia - one with midwives that hopefully wouldn't yell at me - and the midwife asked me why I wanted to try birth with a midwife and I explained that I was a little shaken by the idea that one person had such control over me and she said "Oh, that was YOU?" It seems the story of that nurse had made some news among the medical community in Columbia. Also, the back pain I had talked about... well, it got way worse after birth, but I was still trying to make it be about pregnancy weight. I was unable to walk any distance at all, and I mean the distance from the couch to the TV was pushing it. I went to the doctor about my wrist, which I had hurt during labor. She noticed that I was walking strangely, and after a short exam, sent me for an MRI. That was Tuesday. By Wednesday, I had seen a neurologist, and had a discectomy scheduled for Friday. The neurologist said that he'd never seen anyone with a herniation as large as mine that was able to walk, let alone control their bodily functions. The following week, I was right as rain... and I've never had back problems again. It was amazing.
All in all, Ellie has brought great joy to so many people - I never get tired of watching her charm people with her intelligence and her inquisitiveness. She is a totally unique person and she is my total joy. I try not to play favorites with my kids, but my Ellie is truly my girl in every way. I love her and I can't wait to see the girl/young lady/woman she grows into.
Thanks for indulging me in yet another LONG post... those of you that know me well, know that there are no short stories from me!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Are you done yet?
A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, called Columbia, MD, a man and woman got married and dreamed of someday having a family. The man, we'll call him "J", was an only child and as a result of the childhood trauma of never getting away with anything, wanted to make certain he had enough kids to spread blame around. The woman, we'll call her "E", had not much opinion on the subject, though she had once made a deal with her friend Heather that Heather would be pregnant with all the kids and E would raise them.
You may have guessed, I'm talking about us. I really didn't have much desire to have kids until Jeff and I got together. Those of you that know Jeff will understand immediately how I knew that having kids with him would be an adventure I didn't want to miss. We were married in September 2003, and didn't decide to "try" to have kids right away, so much as we didn't try to prevent things. Those of you that know me well will know that after a month or two of that not working, my goal-oriented personality kicked in and we got serious about the matter. Elizabeth Helen, "Scout" as we called her then, was discovered to exist right around May of 2004 and was born on January 4, 2005. The second she was in my arms, I knew that we would have another baby, and soon. I knew it like I knew that I was going to marry Jeff after one phone conversation.
Sure enough, nine short months later, I woke up in the middle of the night to the knowledge that I could smell the entire contents of my fridge from my bed and I knew that I was pregnant. Margaret Leigh was born in July 2006. Poor Maggie's "in utero" nickname was Avis - cause number 2 has to try harder. As anyone who has had a second child knows, the transition from one to two kids is as earth shaking as from zero to one. Maggie came out with definite opinions and an altimeter that prevented her from sleeping unless being held between 4'4" and 4'8" inches off the ground. There was a definite learning curve and Jeff and I struggled to catch up to our much smarter baby.
However on Maggie's first birthday, when it came time to throw away the "1" candle that I had used for both girls cakes, I hesitated. Partially cause Maggie had slept like a dollbaby through the whole party, her peaches and cream complexion glowing in the summer sun, but mostly cause I knew in my heart I wasn't done. Our family wasn't complete. Two months later, we were blessed with our third baby.
Jack came to us in June 2008, and he is truly a character. I am constantly amazed at how different all three of my kids are - from the way they were born to the way they play. People said to us all the time, "Guess you can stop, you have the boy!" and I would get pissed. Like my girls weren't enough for me. Coming from a matriarchal family, I can't understand the whole "carry on the family name" thing. My grandfather had three daughters, and I can't imagine that a son with the last name Hoover could do better at carrying on family traditions and teaching the generations about what it is to be a close family. I would joke with Jeff that the only way to shut people up would be to have another baby, to make it clear that we weren't "trying for a boy". The only other good reason to have a fourth baby was to make sure that our Mags didn't suffer too much from middle child syndrome. The list of reasons to not have more kids was endless. But yet, neither of us could say - to each other - that we were done. We told everyone else we were done of course, cause when you start talking about wanting a fourth child people start looking at you like you might have something contagious.
We finally decided we'd give it one month. And voila, fouth child. AKA Bullseye, due March 9th
People are funny creatures. When they see that I'm pregnant, (and you can tell from space that I'm pregnant right now, I'm as big as the damned Great Wall), people say "Oh how exciting! Your first?" and when I say, "No, it's my fourth" the smile freezes in that same way that smiles freeze when you give someone a really crappy Christmas present. "Oh, wow, you will have your hands full" is almost ALWAYS the response I get. Except for the old people, they always get happy about it and want to tell me how they're one of umpteen kids and that's the way it should be.
And just like I knew that I wanted another when Ellie was born, and like I knew that I wanted to marry Jeff, I KNOW that I'm not having anymore kids! I knew if from the start, but this pregnancy has been far and away the most difficult of the four. First I was sick for 12 weeks, then, I got a blood clot in my leg. Got the clot resolved, then I got an "incarcerated" hernia which hurt like a bitch, and for my latest trick, now I'm anemic. The ironic part of the anemia thing is that the blood clot was going to preclude me from giving birth at the Birth Center cause of the possibility of another clot. Now I'm at risk because anemia can cause you to not clot enough, and bleed out. Sheesh. Will my body make up it's mind? I'm "advanced maternal age" now - which is what they call you when you're 35, and I think that we've caught our limit.
Don't get me wrong, I know that I am blessed. For all my problems, nothing is life threatening, to either me or the baby. I'm just done. I'm thrilled to have my "little" family, and ready to face the challenge that I'm sure four kids, aged 5 and under will be. I'm doubly thrilled to face it with Jeff who is the best daddy in the world (besides my own of course) and the best husband a girl could ask for.
Now... if I could just fast forward a couple more weeks and have this baby!!!!
You may have guessed, I'm talking about us. I really didn't have much desire to have kids until Jeff and I got together. Those of you that know Jeff will understand immediately how I knew that having kids with him would be an adventure I didn't want to miss. We were married in September 2003, and didn't decide to "try" to have kids right away, so much as we didn't try to prevent things. Those of you that know me well will know that after a month or two of that not working, my goal-oriented personality kicked in and we got serious about the matter. Elizabeth Helen, "Scout" as we called her then, was discovered to exist right around May of 2004 and was born on January 4, 2005. The second she was in my arms, I knew that we would have another baby, and soon. I knew it like I knew that I was going to marry Jeff after one phone conversation.
Sure enough, nine short months later, I woke up in the middle of the night to the knowledge that I could smell the entire contents of my fridge from my bed and I knew that I was pregnant. Margaret Leigh was born in July 2006. Poor Maggie's "in utero" nickname was Avis - cause number 2 has to try harder. As anyone who has had a second child knows, the transition from one to two kids is as earth shaking as from zero to one. Maggie came out with definite opinions and an altimeter that prevented her from sleeping unless being held between 4'4" and 4'8" inches off the ground. There was a definite learning curve and Jeff and I struggled to catch up to our much smarter baby.
However on Maggie's first birthday, when it came time to throw away the "1" candle that I had used for both girls cakes, I hesitated. Partially cause Maggie had slept like a dollbaby through the whole party, her peaches and cream complexion glowing in the summer sun, but mostly cause I knew in my heart I wasn't done. Our family wasn't complete. Two months later, we were blessed with our third baby.
Jack came to us in June 2008, and he is truly a character. I am constantly amazed at how different all three of my kids are - from the way they were born to the way they play. People said to us all the time, "Guess you can stop, you have the boy!" and I would get pissed. Like my girls weren't enough for me. Coming from a matriarchal family, I can't understand the whole "carry on the family name" thing. My grandfather had three daughters, and I can't imagine that a son with the last name Hoover could do better at carrying on family traditions and teaching the generations about what it is to be a close family. I would joke with Jeff that the only way to shut people up would be to have another baby, to make it clear that we weren't "trying for a boy". The only other good reason to have a fourth baby was to make sure that our Mags didn't suffer too much from middle child syndrome. The list of reasons to not have more kids was endless. But yet, neither of us could say - to each other - that we were done. We told everyone else we were done of course, cause when you start talking about wanting a fourth child people start looking at you like you might have something contagious.
We finally decided we'd give it one month. And voila, fouth child. AKA Bullseye, due March 9th
People are funny creatures. When they see that I'm pregnant, (and you can tell from space that I'm pregnant right now, I'm as big as the damned Great Wall), people say "Oh how exciting! Your first?" and when I say, "No, it's my fourth" the smile freezes in that same way that smiles freeze when you give someone a really crappy Christmas present. "Oh, wow, you will have your hands full" is almost ALWAYS the response I get. Except for the old people, they always get happy about it and want to tell me how they're one of umpteen kids and that's the way it should be.
And just like I knew that I wanted another when Ellie was born, and like I knew that I wanted to marry Jeff, I KNOW that I'm not having anymore kids! I knew if from the start, but this pregnancy has been far and away the most difficult of the four. First I was sick for 12 weeks, then, I got a blood clot in my leg. Got the clot resolved, then I got an "incarcerated" hernia which hurt like a bitch, and for my latest trick, now I'm anemic. The ironic part of the anemia thing is that the blood clot was going to preclude me from giving birth at the Birth Center cause of the possibility of another clot. Now I'm at risk because anemia can cause you to not clot enough, and bleed out. Sheesh. Will my body make up it's mind? I'm "advanced maternal age" now - which is what they call you when you're 35, and I think that we've caught our limit.
Don't get me wrong, I know that I am blessed. For all my problems, nothing is life threatening, to either me or the baby. I'm just done. I'm thrilled to have my "little" family, and ready to face the challenge that I'm sure four kids, aged 5 and under will be. I'm doubly thrilled to face it with Jeff who is the best daddy in the world (besides my own of course) and the best husband a girl could ask for.
Now... if I could just fast forward a couple more weeks and have this baby!!!!
Monday, November 30, 2009
This must be what it's like to the be cobbler's child.
If you're on Facebook, then you know that FB is a little bit of an obsession with me. You'll also probably notice that I haven't been on in a few days. Well.... it was a bad week for our computer. Jeff is a computer guy, and a very, very good one at that. He manages the team that manages thousands of desktops at Barclays. So, since I'm married to a computer whiz, I've turned over all responsibility in that area to him. Jeff likes to keep us up to date, and that means that we're always on the latest and greatest version of Windows and we just recently updated to Windows 7 - the OS to solve all problems. Unfortunately, we had a mishap. Accidentally, all of our pictures for the last two years (the pics that have been uploaded since the last update) were deleted.
Now, I consider myself a rational person, I do have a temper, but my control over my inner monologue is good and I generally don't say things in anger. I have to be pushed pretty darn far, and I have some friends who would be happy to attest to the fact that it's not pretty when I do lose control. I can't recall a time in our marriage, or even before our marriage where I have yelled at Jeff with the spectacular variety of curse words and recriminations that I did the night before Thanksgiving when we realized what had happened. All the while, I knew of course that Jeff would have turned himself inside out to undo the mistake, but I just wanted to be mad for a while.
So needless to say, I've mostly come to terms with it now and if you have any pictures of us from 2008- 2009, please forward them on! Jeff is doing his best to try to recover things and that's why I haven't been online for the past few days. Basically, until he could take the hard drive to work and see if anything is on there, we didn't want to write over any more old information. It's our very own forensic computer search.
Here's to a better week!!!
Now, I consider myself a rational person, I do have a temper, but my control over my inner monologue is good and I generally don't say things in anger. I have to be pushed pretty darn far, and I have some friends who would be happy to attest to the fact that it's not pretty when I do lose control. I can't recall a time in our marriage, or even before our marriage where I have yelled at Jeff with the spectacular variety of curse words and recriminations that I did the night before Thanksgiving when we realized what had happened. All the while, I knew of course that Jeff would have turned himself inside out to undo the mistake, but I just wanted to be mad for a while.
So needless to say, I've mostly come to terms with it now and if you have any pictures of us from 2008- 2009, please forward them on! Jeff is doing his best to try to recover things and that's why I haven't been online for the past few days. Basically, until he could take the hard drive to work and see if anything is on there, we didn't want to write over any more old information. It's our very own forensic computer search.
Here's to a better week!!!
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