Father's Day

Ok, so it's a little late, but I had to post a pic of what AJ and his daddy did together for Father's Day.

To add to the day's manliness, we watched the American Chopper marathon on TLC (OK, _I_ watched it while they napped). But we'll _really_ celebrate Father's Day on August 5th when we go to this. We'll camp nearby Friday and Saturday nights, spend Saturday hiking in the Poconos and enjoying a nearby lake, and Sunday at the race.

Oh...and if you're wondering, I got dangly things for my ears for Mother's Day. They have AJ's birthstone in them and match the necklace I got for Christmas.

Bored, Plenty to Do

I'm bored. I've got plenty of work (paid and otherwise) to be doing right now, but I'm not doing it. Unfortunately, I'm all caught up on all of my websites, I've played my latest game as far as it'll let me play without paying for it, AJ's asleep on my bed, so I'm not going to go do the other things I could be doing, just in case he decides to try to roll off...again...(boy is bound and determined to be dropped on his head).....so I'm just sitting here, trying to think of something worthy of blogging about.

Nope, nothing's coming to mind...well other than a "please, please, please buy me EV Nova for my birthday!!" But I don't think that counts.

Um....we're working out way into the fruits now with AJ (who can actually sit in his high chair - propped up on a towel, but still). He still LOVES carrots, likes sweet potatoes and squash, and will eat green beans, but I don't like his reaction to peas, so I think we're gonna hold off on those for a while longer and try them again later. I don't know how to describe it other than just my "MommySense" which makes me think that it's not just a dislike of the taste that makes him act the way he does when he eats them. Having no other green veggies to try (well, without cooking and mashing avocados and zucchini myself), we moved on to applesauce yesterday. I was hoping to start the tradition of eating a "breakfast" of fruit everyday, but AJ wasn't interested in the apples at all until it was "lunch" time, so that may or may not work. At lunch, he ate them gamely, although he didn't seem obsessively excited about it or anything. I didn't try them myself, but I'm guessing they were a little tart. He'll try some more once I actually get to the store and buy more.

Since this new habit of his has gotten to be rather expensive (he eats about five of the 2.5 oz packages a day, which costs about $2.50), I've started trying to make his food from scratch. It's really not hard or even that time consuming, but it _is_ messy, and I'm having to learn a few tricks.

First thing that I learned as I was madly steaming and mashing squash as he was eating the last of our store-bought food was that the squash is a very low-yield food. I mean, I get less than one 2.5 oz container from two good-sized yellow squash. Not really worth it except that they're really juicy and I get lots of good squash juice for use later on. Let's see...I spent $4.20 on squash and got _maybe_ three containers out of it which would cost $1.50 at the store...for a loss of $2.70.

The second thing that I learned was that sweet potatoes are a rather high-yield homemade baby food. From two normal-sized sweet potatoes, I got six very full 2.5-oz containers (so they were probably more like 3 oz), and each of those can really be cut in half and watered down (with squash juice) for an easier consistency. So from two sweet potatoes which cost $1.80, I got 12 containers, worth $6, saving us $4.20. Now, you add in the time it took to peel, cut, steam, and smush the potatoes and consider that I probably could have been doing "real" (and by that I mean paying) work, and I probably lost about $30, but if I can manage to multitask, then I think it's worth it. Plus it's fun to smush things in my food mill.

Carrots are medium-yield. From a standard bag of carrots (2 lb) I've gotten 6 2.5-oz containers that aren't quite so tightly packed as the sweet potatoes, and are a little juicier, so I don't think they'll quite double, but still, let's say nine 2.5-oz containers for another $1.80, in place of $4.50's worth from the store, saves me $2.70.

So between the three of them, I'm saving $4.20 on approximately 24 containers of food which will last him about five days. Heh...that's less than a dollar a day. Maybe not worth it? I dunno...I kinda like doing it.

Anyway...I haven't tried the zucchini yet (although I would suspect another low-yield veggie) or the butternut squash (medium-yield?). Now that he's starting the fruits too, I may try my hand at apples, etc., depending on seasons. I'm not sure that I'll try the green beans. They're so stringy that I'm not sure I really trust my food mill to smush adequately. Although I guess there would probably be less prep work prior to steaming than with the others...just snip the ends and check for bad ones.

In any case, should you try this at home, be sure to work with large quantities to minimize the time it takes you.

Now back to figuring out what to do to avoid doing any work.

Elvish and Hobbit(ish) Names

So, in browsing other peoples' blogs today (yay, for comments!!! boo for work that I _ought_ to be doing instead of reading comments and checking out the commenters' sites!), I came across this and this.

My Elvish name is: Ireth (Sáralondë) Mithrandír. And I'm married to: Círdan Mithrandír. Our son is named: Valandil (Huor) Mithrandír.

My Hobbit(ish) name is: Primula (Burrows) Boffin of Whitfurrows. And I'm married to: Hob Boffin of Whitfurrows. Our son is named: Mungo (Popo) Boffin of Whitfurrows.

The names in parentheses are my maiden names and AJ, as opposed to his actual first name. Eat your heart out, Elianna. Or should I say, Silmarwen Sáralondë? Or Anaranë for short.

Oops....Mungo's crying (I don't think someone named Valandil would cry).

Breathing

People joke about new moms who wake up in the middle of the night just to make sure that the baby's still breathing.

Well, I have two confessions:

1) I used to do that with my dog when she would sleep next to me, and
2) 5 months after his birth, I still do it with AJ.

Now don't get me wrong, I am usually able to contain my neurosis at night when I really _should_ be sleeping (apparently, my laziness/bed gravity/reason trumps my concern), but during the day when I'm awake and he's sleeping, it's all I can do to keep from just constantly watching to a) make sure he doesn't fall off my bed (ahem....again....), and b) make sure he's still breathing.

Part of me wonders if I'll ever "grow out of it," and part of me hopes that I never do. And then the panic of "what ifs" hit.

So then I take a deep breath, check on him again, and pray that God keeps him safe and breathing for a long, long time.

My Blogging Story

So reading Rocks in my Dryer turned me on to this "carnival." I don't know who'll find it interesting, but I felt like participating, so here goes!

How did you start blogging?

I was living in Iraq, working for a humanitarian organization. The folks back home liked hearing from me, but I stopped being able to access the email account I was using to send out mass email updates. A friend of mine had been blogging for about a year at that time and it seemed relatively easy, so I started blogging instead of emailing (after one final mass email which was painstakingly sent out to about 15 people at a time).

Did you intend to be a blog w/a following? If so, how did you go about it?

Well, yes, and no...initially, as I just said, my "following" was those from my email list who successfully a) _read_ the email (a surprisingly small number), and b) actually went to the effort to continue to keep up with me. I was surprised with the number of people who complained to me when I got back that I "just stopped writing!" There's no real polite way to tell people that if they had actually _READ_ what I wrote, they would have known how to continue reading updates from me!

In any case, when I got back, I was blogging just for me essentially. Most of my "following" gradually lost interest (life in America isn't as exciting, I guess). Now it's down to a few family members and friends (to the best of my knowledge), but that's ok. It's really just a chance for me to tell someone the crazy things that run through my head without having to actually sit down with a person and _talk_ about them.

What do you hope to achieve or accomplish with your blog? Have you been successful? If not, do you have a plan to achieve those goals?

Originally, the purpose was to make sure my family and friends knew that I was still alive, and to keep them apprised as to what I was actually doing and how things were actually going "over there." Now, it lets me easily share pics and stories about AJ with friends and family, in addition to giving me an outlet for my thoughts. I think I'm mostly successful. Now that there _is_ a "little man" in my life, I need to be better about writing about something besides him from time to time. I may be a "mommy blogger" now, but that doesn't mean that there are no thoughts in my head other than him!

Has the focus of your blog changed since you started blogging? How?

Gosh...these questions didn't seem quite so redundant when I read them through. I guess I don't travel as much anymore (and certainly not to such exotic places), now I've got a husband and baby (originally I was just longing for the day when I'd meet my husband), I've definitely matured some over the past few years.

What do you know now that you wish you'd known when you started?

How it was all going to end. Very shortly after I began blogging, we left Iraq for some training and I was never allowed to return. While I still carry some of that angst, I can definitely see how HE was working in all of it. If I hadn't come home exactly when I did, I literally would never have met my husband.

Do you make money with your blog?

Currently, no, but I've thought about it. I'm just not sure that I've got enough traffic to support it. Would be nice to make some money for "free" though!

Does your immediate or extended family know about your blog? If so, do they read it? If not, why?

I know they at least _knew_ about it back in the day, but I'm not sure how many other than my mom (hi, Mommy!) still read it. Now I'm letting the in-laws in on the secret too, so they're starting to read (hi, in laws!)

What two pieces of advice would you give to a new blogger?

Um...write for you, not an audience, and don't name your cat Monkey because you'll end up with very confused toddlers.

Archives

So in looking for the link to my "no hit counter" pledge, I ended up re-reading my entire three years' worth of blogs. It was interesting reading. For one, it wasn't nearly as embarrasingly honest as I remembered it being (there have been quite a few "I can't believe I posted THAT" moments over the years), but it was also fun/heartbreaking to remember what was happening during those times in my life, and to realize how much I _didn't_ say sometimes.

I got to relive the death spiral of my laptop, the heartbreak in leaving Iraq so unexpectedly (also look here, here, here, and here), the surprise in meeting VNB so soon after my return (we'd only really met about two weeks prior, but we were both already pretty sure of the eventual outcome at that point), the joy of getting to know him, getting engaged to him, and becoming his wife, the journey of pregnancy and childbirth (I teared up again when I re-read those moments during the turning of AJ when I was so scared), and now looking back over the pics of our little man and seeing exactly how quickly he learns and grows and changes!

Well...it's been an interesting ride. I wonder what will happen next!

R2-D2, Where Are You?

So VNB's sister and bro-in-law came up to visit a few weekends ago. It was their anniversary weekend, so to celebrate, they babysat AJ and let us go see a movie (Spiderman III....it was....eh, but then I'm not a huge fan). On Saturday, we all went downtown because his sister had never seen DC. We saw the Air & Space Museum, then toured many of the monuments. On the way back to a metro station, we passed something which made my day/week/long time (well, if you take AJ and VNB out of the picture). You see, to celebrate Star Wars' 30th anniversary, the USPS is putting out a series of stamps...and as advertisement, they've painted some of those blue mailboxes to look like R2-D2!!!! There are apparently several around DC, but the one we saw was about a block south of the White House, near the Red Cross headquarters and DAR's Constitution Hall. My in-laws have the pics. It was awesome!

Well, today I got my ~monthly ThinkGeek.com email and in it was this link. If anyone feels like spending $130 plus shipping on me anytime in the near future, I WANT ONE!!!!!!! Be sure you watch the video on the page.

Changes

So, way back almost two years ago, I pledged that I would never set up a counter on my blog. Well...things have changed drastically in my life, and I think I'm going to go back on the letter (although not the spirit) of that pledge. You see, back then, VNB was "just" my "VeryNiceBoyfriend" (although he became my "VeryNiceBetrothed" about 10 days later). Now I'm posting images of our son for anyone on the web to see. So I want to see who it is that's looking and make sure they're not coming in from some weird search or something. Which means keeping track of stats which are easily available through a counter.

I'm still not going to let myself obsess about the numbers of people reading, because this blog really is just an outlet for my random thoughts (and why the heck not share those with the world?). I think that's still conforming to the spirit behind that pledge, if not the letter. But I _do_ want to make sure (to the best of my ability) that there aren't any wackos out there with pics of my little man.

I still have to research and add the counter though, so it may take a little while. Just know that I didn't add it lightly and that it was for good reason.

I'm also thinking about adding a "blogroll" to the sidebar. These are just other peoples' blogs (or other websites) that I read regularly. I like them for various reasons, so I'm happy to give them a little free advertising. Check 'em out, once I get 'em posted. It's not usually _required_ "netiquette," but I'm probably going to email the folks first to get their permission, so that may take some time and will mean that it probably won't be stable for a little while.

I might also join a "blogring" which is basically just a community of bloggers who share some similar trait like "mommy bloggers" or "Christian bloggers." It's always good to have friends.

And how is it exactly that Blogger.com doesn't have the word "blogger" in its spellcheck dictionary?

Team Jones For the Cure

AJ, VNB, and I (along with the rest of Futron's team and the other half-million people who were there) got up early yesterday, Metroed downtown into DC, and walked 5km. We (meaning VNB) managed to raise almost $450, which will be doubled by Futron!

AJ had a nice nap in the stoller and continued to wow the folks from my company with how laid back he is all the time. Heh...they should have been in the car with us last night on the way home...but that's a different story.

Anyway, here are pics from the day.

Food Fight!

Here's the long-awaited second meal. He LOVES his carrots. He's not quite to ecstatically in love with sweet potatoes or squash, but he likes them too. Next up, green beans!

AJ Noises

Here are typical AJ noises. The video gets pretty boring after about 30 seconds.

Updates

It's been a while since I've blogged about anything except the little parasite who is currently (literally) sucking me dry. He's still good. He still screams when the carrots are gone and he likes sweet potatoes too, just not quite as enthusiastically. We'll try squash here in a day or two. His favorite new game is to lunge forward. I guess that means that sitting up is just around the corner. It's hard to believe how quickly he learns, gets stronger, and grows. He's got a white bump on his lower gum below where his left canine tooth would be, and he's been royally fussy these past few days, so I'm thinking that one might be first.

Today I was even able to lay (lie?) him down in his crib and have him fall asleep. It wasn't nearly as easy as that sounds, but that was the ultimate outcome. In between lying him down and him actually sleeping was about 20 minutes of him "rolling" around in his crib (just back and forth, not over, although he's done that twice on the floor now), about 30 minutes of him screaming in his crib, then about ten minutes of me standing by his crib with my head on the railing and my eyes drowsily blinking as I went "shhhhhh, shhhhhh, shhhhh, shhhhhh..." That quieted him down, eventually _his_ eyes started blinking drowsily, and then he fell asleep!!! And he slept for about 45 minutes, whimpered for a bit, then slept for about 15 minutes more. And the angels sang.

They were also singing because my scale told me this morning that I am officially no longer "overweight" (according to my bmi)!!!! I'm still 20 lbs heavier than this time last year, but I'm no longer officially "overweight!!" I still feel pretty ookie about the way I look, but at least there's progress!

What else? Hrm....so I've found myself feeling a bit directionless lately, mostly because I'm just now getting to the point where I can notice that for the past I don't know how many months, all I've been doing is keeping my head above water. To the point that I've somewhat had that McDonald's commercial moment where I wake up and discover that I'm a soccer mom with three kids in a mini-van. Now that I've gotten over the anxiety caused by that awakening, I'm realizing that I'm in a very different place in life than I was just a little while ago. Relationships are different (and some don't seem to be surviving the transition...but at the same time others have deepened and new ones have formed...), responsibilities are different, priorities are different....but there's been so much change in my life lately that I've been afraid to ask Him what my next steps should be for fear that the answer will require _more_ change.

Or at least that's what I thought I was afraid of. I think the real problem was more that I don't know yet how to deal with His will for _our_ lives. It's not just about me anymore. Gone are the days when He can say "go" and I can get up and do just that. I mean....He could still tell us to go and we would still go, but now it involves changing two people's minds (and eventually AJ's too). And I think my real fear is that He'll tell _me_ something, but not VNB and then I'll have to figure out what to do about that. Except that I know that's just silly and He'd never do that. In fact, ways in which I've hoped that VNB would step up, he's done exactly that on his own without any prompting from me.

But life is different now in ways that I never anticipated (and I'm not just talking about surprises like AJ). It's still good, it's just different...and it's interesting seeing who's come alongside me and who's fallen away.

Working from home has really been good. We've gotten stir-crazy from time to time, but really much less frequently than I would have expected. I've still not quite figured out working, keeping AJ happy, _and_ keeping the house clean, but two out of three (at least most days) isn't so bad, right? I've still got a complex about my bosses thinking it's a good long-term plan, but really, I would say that the company's getting a _really_ good deal out of me this way. Since I'm part-time, they don't have to pay benefits, plus they're getting about as much work from me as they are from people who are on this same project full-time - they just pay me for half as many hours, plus I don't have to worry about getting up, dressing up (in my one pair of work pants and two work shirts that "fit" right now), getting AJ to daycare, getting to work on time, and working while feeling guilty about AJ being in daycare...AND they're not losing an experienced analyst. Logically, I think they come out ahead, even though it means that I'm not in the office all the time. I still worry that at some point someone's not gonna be so cool about it and I'm gonna have to defend my work situation though. It could be interesting as we walk as part of Futron's "Race for the Cure" team with the company president this weekend. :)

Speaking of which....if you want to sponsor us, go to this site. Only sponsor VNB because his company will match whatever he raises, and then my company (whose team we're on) will match whatever he raises...which means that if we do this right, your pledge could be quadrupled. Pretty nifty, huh? :) This is a cause that hits pretty close to home for me. There's been virtually no cancer in my family history (what little we know of was caused by my grandfather's 2nd-hand smoke and even then my grandmother was in her late 70s), but my lumpiness puts me at higher risk, as does the fact that AJ didn't come along until I was 30. Plus, I've known several folks who have been personally touched by this disease. So give early, give often. :)

What else? Hrm....AJ's kinda funny and already reminds me of myself in many ways. My mom loves to remind me of one time that I was down in the dumps when I was about 9 or so. I'd only been playing piano for about a year, but we had this simplified version of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" that I was desperate to play. So she found me crying one day and asked what was wrong. There were three things. I don't remember the first one, but the second was that I didn't like Cabbage Patch dolls (they were the big thing at the time, so something _must_ have been wrong with me if I didn't like them), and "I can't even play the Moonlight Sonata!" Oh, life was ending....well...AJ does the same thing. He can reach for and grab onto toys now, but if he can't get them to do what he wants them to do (or if we empty the jar of carrots), he _SCREAMS_ in frustration. With the toys, he usually gets distracted after a minute or two of _SCREAMING_, so life in his Pack 'n Play goes like this - play, play, play, _SCREAM_, play, play, play, _SCREAM_....and so on. And he can't even play the Moonlight Sonata.

Well...that's about it for now. I'll upload the video of AJ eating so that everyone can experience the joy that is carrots.

Food Fight!

So AJ's been kinda fussy lately (fussing during the day, not sleeping at night, etc.) and I've been feeling rather emptied, especially by the evening, plus he met most of the requirements listed on BabyCenter.com before you should feed your kid solid food, so we decided to try "solid" food for the first time last night.

Our pediatrician had said that we should start with orange veggies (carrots, yams, squash), then progress to green veggies (green beans, avocado, etc.), then fruits (bananas, apples, etc.), and _then_ to cereals (apparently this stimulates fewer food allergies than the other way around). Since he's been happily gnawing on frozen baby carrots as teething "rings" for a month or two now, we were pretty sure he'd like the carrots, so that's what we started with.

We put him in his bouncy chair, rolled up his sleeves, put a bib on him, and VNB gave him his first spoonful. He proceeded to get it all over his face (of course), but very quickly caught on to opening, slurping, and swallowing. By the end of the jar (yes, he ate the whole thing), he was reaching for VNB's hand and guiding the spoon into his mouth. No I'm not exaggerating even a little.

When the jar was empty, he literally screamed for more. I think he might like the carrots, what do you think?

He hasn't 'eliminated' the jar yet, so we may hold off on the next one until he does (don't want to stop him up too badly), but when he eats again, we'll definitely get video for you to enjoy.

Spaceman Spiff

So we stopped by my office again today to take a picture of the team for a contract re-compete proposal and we decided that it was too good a chance to miss to take a few pics of our favorite little spaceman.

AJ at the Gym

So last night, AJ missed his diaper and had to change PJs around 2:30 AM (there was _MUCH_ screaming involved, even though I tried to do it in stages, because he was _HUNGRY!!!!_ and yet Mama insisted on changing his clothes!). So in the dark, I grabbed the first onesie and pair of PJs I could find. This morning I discovered that it was his grey onesie that my mom had given him to go with a pair of grey sweat pants, as like a little work-out outfit. So I figured that he could wear that today and I could get some pics for her. Then I had the bright idea to have AJ playing in his little "gym" (which he does in the mornings anyway). Well, several hours (and videos) later, this is the result.

I put him in like this:


Notice that his head is to the right and he is centered on the mat. Notice also his cute little outfit, complete with gym shoes from his Aunt Grandmom, and the adorable "I'm the champ" pose! He's been getting good at finding his right hand with his left. Yes, he's the cutest, smartest 3-month-old in the world, and no, I'm not biased at all.

Well, within about five minutes, he had positioned himself like this:

I swear that I had nothing to do with it, he just likes kicking his little ball. Apologies to those of you out there who couldn't care less about AJ kicking and talking in his little gym. Just keep in mind that there's a set of grandparents (and aunt and uncles) in TN and a set of grandparents (and great-grandparents and aunt and uncle) in NC, and some great-aunts and uncles in GA (who haven't met him yet) who don't get to see him very often. So deal!

He's only recently discovered kicking the ball, and the video was the first time I'd seen him actually _grab_ a fish. Did I mention how brilliant he is?

Well, by the time I was done downloading the pics and videos from my camera, he had re-positioned himself like this (and even though I was sitting right next to him, he did it so quietly that I was surprised when I looked over):



He's getting more and more, um...spirally-mobile? In that video, he's playing his new favorite game (that he discovered for himself while we were visiting my family in TN) - kick the side of the bassinet and bounce around. The squeals should be enough to tell you how much fun it is!

There's nothing in the world like watching a baby play when there's tragedy on the news.

Good Times

Ok, we'll see how (if) this works. I've been jealous of all of my friends posting videos to their websites, and I finally decided to _take_ video of AJ...and it was so cute, it had to be shared. Be sure you watch till the very end.

Also amusing in this clip is the audio (which I assume comes through as well). You get to hear a professional "rocket scientist" that I know making a fool of herself trying to get the little man to smile. Ah, the joys of motherhood. ;p

Also, apologies for the branding across the top. I either need to shell out the $70 to buy the software, find free software, or stop turning the camera sideways. Seems like it'd be easiest to just not turn the camera.

Attempts on AJ's Life, or AJ's Story Part IV

So we spent our two days in the hospital (three if you include "Labor" day). They were relatively drama-less. We slept, ate, and tried to be presentable for visitors, we had visits from phlebotomists at 6AM, and I only had to track AJ down once (they'd taken him to see the pediatrician, but apparently they gather all the babies at once, the pediatrician works his way down the line, and as he's finished, they bring the babies back - AJ just happened to be the very last baby in line and I got concerned after he'd been gone for a couple of hours...I probably wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't been for those darn phlebotomists...did I mention that they left the light on when they left?). All in all, it was about as positive experience as being in the hospital could be.

But we finally got to go home!!!! Wednesday morning, we waited for what seemed like hours to be discharged. Finally, right before lunchtime, we were. Since we were at a hospital over by where VNB and I each worked, and since I was starving and would want a controlled eating environment, we decided to stop by his office and mine prior to going home. So we went through a drive through, then took lunch to his office. While we ate, everyone admired our handsome boy. When we were done, we went to my office and while I filled out my timesheet and took care of a few more things, VNB showed AJ off to everyone he saw.

Sounds tiring, right? Well it was, but we weren't done. Our pastor's wife hadn't seen the baby yet, so our next stop was there house. That was a nice chance to sit for a while, feed the baby, and relax before we finally made it home.

Now prior to that day, it had literally been in the 60s and 70s for most of December and January to that point. On that day, it was about 23. So before we left the hospital, we dressed AJ in the following: long-sleeved onesie, thick fleece sleep bag, heavy blanket for swaddling, then his car seat has a padded cover too. When we got home, the padded cover was replaced by a second blanket. He did great on the car ride home (with all the stops), but that evening, he would do the following: eat, sleep for about 10 minutes, then scream. Now, he'd hardly cried at all while we were at the hospital and he'd usually sleep for 2-3 hours in between feedings, so we were perplexed. We tried burping and bouncing and walking and everything else we could think of, but the only thing that would make him stop crying was to eat some more.

After several hours of this, something clicked in my head. Without even really knowing why, I started to undress him. Off came the outer blanket. Off came the inner blanket. Off came the sleepbag. (Back on went a lighter blanket for swaddling.) And the screaming stopped. And AJ went to sleep.

Go figure, the appropriate dressing for 23 degree weather with a brisk wind is a _little_ warm for room temperature with no wind.

But he survived _that_ attempt on his life, so we figured we'd try again. This time we were aided by his great aunts - the OP and Aunt Mom. OP brought over dinner that first night - meatloaf and broccoli. Now VNB doesn't like broccoli, but I _LOVE_ it and since he doesn't like it I don't get it very often. So I had it for dinner that night and the leftovers for lunch on Thursday. On Thursday, Aunt Mom brought over dinner - guess what the vegetable was? That's right - broccoli. So I ate some for dinner that night and the leftovers for lunch on Friday. On Friday, VNB's sister and brother-in-law came up to meet their nephew and take care of us for the weekend. They had made a very nice dinner and we were all actually sitting at our table, eating. Now, AJ had been a little fussy all evening, but nothing _really_ unusual...until dinner. He was sitting with us quietly when all of the sudden, he let out this ear-piercing scream. We seriously thought that he'd somehow pinched himself or something. That caught our attention.

After a while of him screaming for a few minutes then calming down, then screaming again, then calming down again, I was beginning to suspect gas, so I sent VNB to the store for Mylecon drops (except I didn't know the name then, so I sent him for "baby Gas-X"). He talked to the pharmacist at the store who said that he should call the pediatrician. So he came home and we attempted to call the person who was going to be our family practice doctor. Since we hadn't seen him yet (and couldn't seem to get an appointment), it was a little difficult to get his on-call person to talk to us, but we finally did. His suggestion was to watch it and if it got significantly worse, to go to the emergency room. I finally asked if it might be gas (remember my four large helpings of broccoli?) and couldn't we get drops for that and he said, "Oh yeah, Mylecon. That might work too." (Leia's uncharitable thought at the time, "Thanks for nothing, idiot.")

So VNB's sister drove me to the store where we bought the drops. We came home, AJ ate some more, then took some drops. The drops went down, a burp came up, and AJ relaxed and went to sleep. It all literally took about 5 seconds.

So we tried to cook him and that didn't work. Then we tried to make him explode. When that didn't work either, we figured that he was sticking around. I don't _think_ we've tried to kill him since then....although his 9th day was a "little" interesting. Read all about it in the next episode, "The Terrible Day, or AJ's Story, Part V."

The Longest Day or AJ's Story Part III (Appendix A)

So I forgot to mention one thing in the previous post. If you were paying attention, you would have realized that AJ was born on January 8th (the version was on the 7th and he wasn't born until the following morning). Well, for those of you who didn't already know this little tidbit, Jan 8th is also Elvis' brithday. As a result, AJ has been practicing his sneer and even has is own Elvis outfit. Unfortunately, the odds of catching the sneer in a picture while _in_ the Elvis outfit are very small. So you'll have to make do with this pic. Looks like he's getting the hip swivel down. :)

Halleluiah!!!

The angels are singing in Leialand right now.

That's right folks...I was able to zip and button my favorite pair of jeans WHILE THEY WERE ON MY BODY today!!!

This is the first time since about a week after Labor Day.

They've made it up past my ginormous thighs and butt for about a month now, but it wasn't until I tried today that I was actually able to button and zip them over my (equally ginormous) gut.

And to think that I almost didn't even try today just to avoid the disappointmet of them still not fitting.

Now, this isn't to say that they fit anywhere near like they used to (several inches to spare in the waist), in fact, it's a little difficult to breathe right now, as I sit down in them...but they're ON! And I can go out in public in them!! I don't have to wear VNB's pajama pants or sweats anymore!! I can wear my own pants again!! Yay!!!!

It's a glorious day!!!!!

The Longest Day or AJ's Story Part III

This post has descriptions of the birth of a baby...be aware that things might get a little "icky" to some folks. If you don't want the sordid details of the process, just skip to the end.

So after they turned the baby and saw that he was still doing ok, they moved us into a Labor & Delivery (L&D) room and started all sorts of drips. Well...they'd started the saline IV before the version, but I also needed antibiotics (due to a naturally-occurring bacteria that I was having a flare-up of that the baby might have gotten in the process of being born), and Pitocin (the drug used to induce labor). All of that was started around 11:30 AM. The Pit was set to drip at a rate of 4 mL per some time increment. That got my labor to think about starting, but it wasn't really going that well, so they upped the level by 2s every hour or so. They planned to get up to 20 and then re-evaluate, but it really wasn't doing much for me, so they started increasing it by 4s instead of 2s.

Now, understand that pitocin is the synthetic version of oxytocin. Oxytocin, in addition to stimulating labor and increasing the strength of contractions also crosses into the brain and releases endorphins (the body's "happy" juices). Pitocin, on the other hand, only does the first part. Most women who are subjected to pitocin end up in huge amounts of pain, usually by the time it reaches about 10. Mine ended up at 28 before I asked for drugs, and even then it was only after a rational thought process.

You see, when they'd first checked me, I was ~1cm dilated. The next time they checked (a couple of hours later), I was up to 3. The next time (several hours after that), I was still at 3, so it was recommended that, if I hadn't dilated considerably by the next time, that they break my water to try to speed things up. They did that, then checked again a few hours later. I'd gone all the way up to 4 cm! Woohoo (yes, I'm being sarcastic).

And during the time after they'd broken my water, I hit what's termed "active labor," meaning that it really started hurting and required my full attention, even in between contractions. Before then, it really hadn't been that bad. We'd been watching TV and talking (and getting caught sneaking me crackers). Eventually, it'd gotten to the point where I had to pay attention during the contractions, but in between wasn't so bad. In fact, the worst part about the early labor was the very distracting headache I had. It went away sometime that evening. But then I felt like I had to go to the bathroom. Now, we'd done the bathroom thing multiple times during the course of the day, so it wasn't that big of a deal (well except for the time that we forgot to hook back up to the monitors and the head nurse threatened to turn the pit off - probably stopping the labor and throwing us into C-Section...we didn't like her much). Anyway, they unhooked me from the monitors and I waddled over to the toilet. While I was there, it was like something clicked, and it was all for real. I'd been doing it for probably 9 or 10 hours at that point, with the version prior to that, but all of the sudden, this was it.

So I moved around as much as possible finding a comfortable position (which was impossible), and finally ended up back in the bed. Gradually I went from just concentrating on relaxing during contractions to screaming in agony during each one. It was after a couple of hours of that that they found that I was only to 4 cm. It was then that I knew I wouldn't be able to make it till the end without help. In fact, I'd come to the conclusion prior to that check that, if I wasn't up to 7 or 8 cm at least, that I'd ask for drugs. When I was only at 4, there was no question.

Fortunately, they'd left the catheter in for the epidural from the version, so the anesthesiologist came in and juiced me up. It was probably close to midnight at that point. I hadn't slept much the night before (and probably not well since Wednesday at least), we'd been at the hospital since 7:30 that morning with all sorts of emotionally-stressful things happening, AND I hadn't eaten in 24 hours. So the best thing that the epidural did was to let me sleep for about an hour. VNB got in a nap too (our "assistant coach" kept watch over me while he slept).

After our naps, we were ready to go again, not only that, but I went from 4cm to 9 in about two hours (epidurals slow labor if given too early, but given late in the game, they speed it up). Epidurals are known to prevent women from feeling the urge to push, so I was a little worried. But then I started feeling this pain. The L&D nurse thought that maybe I was feeling the urine catheter they'd given me when they gave me the epidural drugs (you can't tell when you need to go, so they just siphon it off for you), and it _really_ hurt...plus, I figured that if I was going to be drugged at all, then I shouldn't feel any of it right?

So she gave me a booster of the drugs. The pain never went away completely, but that helped for all of about 5 minutes. After that, it got worse. Finally, I told VNB that I thought I needed to push. He got the midwife, who checked me again and I was fully dilated! Now in true "Murphy's" fashion, she had another lady who also wanted to push right then...but she sent the nurse in with her and had her wait while I pushed.

This was the most painful experience of my life. If the drugs worked at all, I didn't know it except for the fact that I had absolutely no control over my right leg, and only limited control over my left. That became important when VNB was helping me hold up one of my legs. I was pushing against his hand and he was getting tired, so he switched to the other hand, but that wasn't comfortable or working for me, so I, um..."forcefully" told him to switch back. He told me that his arm was tired. My response? "I DON'T CARE!!!" That was funny labor moment where I yelled at my husband #1.

A little while later, I was getting _really_ hot and finally convinced VNB to get a wet towel for me. Well, we had to direct him to the towels (in the bathroom), then he was trying to just put some ice in it. That was when I yelled at him to get the whole thing wet and "do it NOW!!!" He had a very startled look on his face, but he obeyed, and I was grateful once I got the towel off of my forehead and onto my body. In his defense, he thought I just wanted something cool on my forehead, so he was getting ice, thinking that would be the coolest thing. What he didn't know was that, unless my entire body could be put in the ice, it wasn't going to be enough for me. And he was so focused on the pushing that he needed a more, um..."forceful" approach to get him to really hear what I was saying.

But those were my only two real "moments." VNB was disappointed that I didn't curse or blame him for the whole thing.

Anyway, after about 40 minutes of pushing, the baby's head was crowning...but it just stayed there for three contractions. After the second one, the midwife started looking concerned and mentioned that the baby couldn't stay there for very long and that we needed to think about performing an episiotomy (where they cut you to give the baby more room). VNB was with her on the cutting, but I wasn't. I told them that I wanted one more contraction and while they were trying to convince me otherwise, I started pushing again. When that contraction didn't move the baby at all, I agreed (I just wanted one more chance, I got it, so I was content). She cut me (2nd degree) and pretty much at the next contraction the baby's head came out and the body during the one after that!

They put my slimy baby on my belly, but with the baby's back to me, so, like my mother before me, I kept having to ask, "what is it?" VNB was distracted, making sure that I was ok (as were the nurses and midwife), so it wasn't until the third or fourth time that I asked that the midwife told me, "It's a boy!!"

Then it was time to cut the cord (which VNB did very nicely), and the baby was brought over to the little station on the wall to get his vitals (which VNB watched like hawk). While he was being checked out, they were stitching me up (that wasn't fun, even with the lidocaine). Once that was done, they brought the baby back over to me and I really got to meet him for the first time.

Even from the moment of birth, he was the most adorable baby on the planet. Yes, I'm biased, but I _have_ had independent verification from neutral third parties that he is, indeed, the most beautiful baby they've ever seen. And absolutely perfect. It was possible that he was still slightly premature (we weren't really that sure what the due date was, but regardless, this was earlier than even the earliest of possible due dates), but he cried on his own immediately, had Apgars of 9 both times, had perfect hearing, peed, pooped, and ate just like he was supposed to. The lactation consultant called him a natural at breastfeeding. For all of the horror stories I've heard about it taking weeks for babies and mommies to figure that out, he knew right away (smart little guy too - have I mentioned how perfect he is?).

Anyway, so at 4:58 AM (17.5 hours after starting, but really only about 7 hours after it got to be painful and with only about 45 min of pushing), Andrew Alexander "AJ" Jones was born, weighing in at a hefty 6lbs, 14 oz, and measuring 20.5" long.

This is a picture taken an hour or two after he was born by his proud paternal grandparents through the nursery window (they had to do a more thorough check up in the nursery while they transferred me to a regular room). A very proud VNB is holding him up for all to see. He really hasn't stopped doing that since. :)

But we've had our ups and downs since then. Look for "Attempts on AJ's Life or AJ's Story Part IV," coming soon to a blog near you. There will also be more pictures. :)

To Ev'rything (Turn, Turn, Turn) or AJ's Story Part II

So the next morning, VNB and I awoke _early_ and prepared to leave for the hospital. Our bags were packed, clothes laid out, but there are always "last things." Still, we managed to get away with minimal delay. I was starving, but wasn't allowed to eat anything. VNB, on the other hand, had been instructed that he was _required_ to eat (they, oddly, don't like dads fainting from hunger in the delivery room...go figure). So, on our way, we stopped at the Starbucks and Burger King drive-thrus. Talk about excruciating pain - watching your husband drink Starbucks and eat a Croisan'wich when you're hungry, but can't eat...especially when you know that you probably won't be eating for the rest of the day.

But it had to be, and I really was glad that he got to eat. At least one of us would have energy for the day.

So we got to the hospital a few minutes late, but we still waited for a few minutes, so we didn't feel too badly. We sat in the "family and friends" waiting room on the maternity ward with a guy who was there for a friend of his. After a few minutes of uncomfortable pleasantries (at least for me, VNB is _much_ better about that sort of thing than I), we were called back.

I had to change into the lovely hospital gown and pee in a cup one last time (at least for a while). Our Labor and Delivery (L&D) nurse was _very_ personable and really helped to put us a much at ease as possible. It really helped that she had had her own two children with the Maternity Center midwives (tells you something about hospital/OB care and practices when a L&D nurse uses midwives and birthing centers rather than her own hospital!), so she was sympathetic to our situation. Plus, she went to church with a co-worker of VNB's, so we all had lots to chat about as she was setting up equipment and hooking me up to things.

Even a month later, the thought of that morning makes me tear up. I was so scared. Hospitals, doctors, nurses, epidurals, possible C-Sections, breech babies...There was a moment after I'd been given the epidural while they were waiting for it to take effect when it was just me and VNB in our little curtained partition. I don't think I was crying, but I was certainly working hard not to. VNB very gently asked if anything hurt, I shook my head "no," so he asked if I was scared, and I shook my head "yes" - afraid to, or maybe just incapable of even voicing all of the things that were going through my head. I don't remember what he said, I just know that him being there with me, holding my hand was all that kept me sane at that moment. Somehow, because he was there too, I was able to take a few deep breaths and get a hold of my emotions again - to get my thoughts back to the now instead of the "could bes."

But before all of that happened, the anesthesiologist came in to give me my epidural. Like with the acupuncturist the day before, the OB had told us in advance "this is going to hurt," so we knew we needed the drugs (you know it's gonna be bad when the doctor warns you about the pain). Still, it's pretty scary to have a long needle stuck into your spinal column. Fortunately, I didn't have to look. The actual sticking of the needle hurt a good bit (and I can still occasionally "feel" where it was in my back), but it took effect pretty quickly. He gave me more than they usually give to laboring moms (a "walking" epidural), but less than they usually give for C-Sections. Even so, what was about to happen hurt like heck. One thing he said which was ultimately comforting (although a little scary right then) was that his shift ended in about an hour (meaning that he'd been on all night already! Scary to have someone stick a large needle into the epidural space of your spinal column at the _end_ of his shift!), but that he'd stay through the end if we ended up with a C-Section (somewhat comforting that he wasn't going to jump ship on us at the first opportunity).

Once the epidural had fully kicked in, the OB came in (she'd poked a head in prior to that to say hello, but now she was there to stay). The midwife had also come a while before and was great about sitting with us and answering questions. I really appreciated that she was there with us, even though we were officially under someone else's care. The OB did a quick sonogram just to make sure that the baby hadn't turned (he hadn't), and we were off...

First the OB felt for AJ's butt. To his credit, he had come back out of the pelvis and was back to his head being at about 11 o'clock (my belly button being 12 and nether regions being 6) and butt at about 5 o'clock (that made him easier to turn). Once she found his butt, she asked the midwife to hang onto it (basically to keep it from moving back once the turning motion began), but as she reached for my belly, the OB noticed her _really_ long fingernails and called her off. Instead, the L&D nurse was the second set of hands as the OB then found his head and started pushing him around.

Up until a little over 12 hours later, that was the worst pain I'd ever felt in my life. VNB was standing at my head (he'd had to practically crawl under the bed to find an empty spot of floor where he could be near me). I watched him for most of the time (it took a few minutes).

But then, very abruptly, it was over. And after those few minutes of commotion, the room was quiet. Just to be sure, I asked if it had worked. They said that it had, but all five of the medical professionals in the room (another L&D nurse had come to help/watch - we were the only ones in recovery at that point) were very distracted as they watched my vitals and those of our baby.

That time was almost worse than the time before while we waited for the epidural to kick in. AJ's heart tones dipped down into the 80s during the procedure (120-160 is "normal") and were in the 90s immediately following. Everyone just stayed and watched until they got back to about 110 (that seemed to take forever). Then, one by one, they each slipped away. I don't know where they went (we could hear some talking at the other end of the room, but it clearly wasn't all of them), but eventually it was just me and VNB again.

Then the anesthesiologist returned. He checked my vitals one last time, then said that he was going home. Just to make sure, VNB asked, "so that's good news, right?" The anesthesiologist replied, "That's good news," smiled, and left. I definitely cried some when VNB came back with that news.

We sat there and watched AJ's heartbeat return to normal, slowly, but surely. Eventually the OB and midwife came back and officially said that things looked good, and we were back under the midwife's care. When the epidural wore off, we were moved to a labor and delivery room, and the pitocin drip was started (to induce labor).

That was just the beginning of what became one of the longest days of my life. For the rest of the story, look for "The Longest Day, or AJ's Story Part III," which I promise won't take as long for me to get written.

On Pins and Needles or AJ's Story Part I

It's been a while since I've blogged. A lot has happened in that time. I think the last I told you, Baby hadn't turned yet and we were looking into our options. Well, on Wednesday, January 3rd, we visited the back-up OBs for our midwife practice. I'd been to the chiropractor twice in the days before then (and while the baby didn't turn as a result of her work, I had no idea how much pain I was in until she made it all go away. It was absolutely amazing and something I HIGHLY recommend to all pregnant women out there - just make sure your chiropractor is trained in working on pregnant ladies) and knew that the baby had gone vertical the night before the OB's visit (he'd been at an angle prior to then). I was SURE that he'd turned.

The OB wasn't so sure, so we went down the hallway to her ultrasound machine. That proved that I was wrong. Not only was the baby breech, now he was breech with his butt stuck down in my pelvis. He wasn't really far down in the pelvis, but he was there. And as a result, she gave us only a 60% chance that the manual version would work. She also recommended that we go ahead and schedule it ASAP, preferably for the following weekend since she'd be on call at the hospital both days.

After a few minutes to talk it over and pray about it (and let me have a little time to cry with disappointment), we decided to go ahead with it, knowing that if it didn't work, we'd probably end up with a C-Section. On the way home we called parents and pastors (and bosses since we weren't coming back to work like we'd planned), then visited the pastors for more prayer. We tried to keep it pretty quiet other than that though, just because it was all so sudden for both of us and stressful and the last thing we needed was a lot of well-meant comfort and advice. We both just needed to focus on the task at hand, cleaning off our desks at work, and doing the "last things" before Baby would come, since it was _very_ likely that Baby would be coming that weekend.

It was our hope that the baby would turn on his own prior to our arrival at the hospital on Sunday morning. Next to that, we hoped that the version would work and we could then be induced at the hospital and have the baby as naturally as possible. Barring that, we hoped that the version wouldn't work, but Baby and I would be good enough afterwards that they'd let us go home and have labor start naturally. That would give him more time to turn, and the advantage of _some_ labor (it not only gets my hormones going for things like milk production, but it also helps squeeze out fluid from his lungs and is just healthier for babies in general) even if it ended in a C-Section, but there was only a very small chance of that happening. The alternative was an immediate C-Section.

With those hopes, we did everything we knew of to encourage the baby to turn. I went back to the chiropractor twice more, and I even did what I didn't think I'd ever do - I went to the acupuncturist. He was highly recommended by our childbirth educator lady (who is in to those sorts of thing), and we were willing to do a lot of things at that point. Plus, I'd read about it and it didn't involve needles and it had a pretty high rate of success, so we figured it couldn't hurt and it might help, so why not?

So I went to his office. It was in this dingy little building in downtown Bethesda. Granted, it was a "Medical Arts Building," but it was still a dingy little building. In the waiting room I filled out his interminable form. The only fun part was getting to answer "pregnant" to all of the yesses I had to check by different symptoms (heartburn, swelling of ankles, weight gain, etc.). That even got old after a while. But I finally finished and they called me back.

Then we got to talk about my poop. Nope, not kidding. He asked about color, consistency, and buoyancy. From that, he diagnosed me as "thinking too much," i.e., worrying. I kinda rolled my eyes and said, "well, DUH!" at that diagnosis. I mean, I had a full-term (first) pregnancy with a breech baby - did he think I was so happy and carefree that daisies sprang up where ever I stepped?

So then he had me lie down on the table and take my shoes off. While I was doing that, he asked if I knew about the procedure. I'd checked it out on the internet (they burn sticks right up next to some acupressure points on your little toes), so I said that I did. Everything was going according to what I was expecting for the most part (I thought I'd be sitting in a chair)...until he pulled out some needles and said "This is going to hurt."

Now you know it's going to be bad when a medical person says that.

And he was right. He stuck one pin in each of my big toes, then spun them around until I couldn't take it anymore. Then he stopped, told me to sit there for a few minutes and that he'd be back after that. About 15 minutes later, he came back and did the same thing again. Sometime during this second visit, he said, "you know we don't use the moxi sticks anymore, right?" I told him that I hadn't heard that, and asked him why. His very profound response (and given clearly in surprise at being asked "why") - "second-hand smoke."

So twice more he repeated his toe torture, each time asking if the baby was moving ("not really" was my response each time). After the third time he mentioned that I might not have realized how long this was going to take and would I like a magazine? I said yes and began reading the architectural magazine that happened to be in that room. He also handed me my cell phone. VNB had called twice, wondering where I was.

He also asked about the water I was drinking and said that I should be drinking de-ionized water to keep down the acidity of the amniotic fluid. He said that he would get me info about the water. He never did.

Finally, after about an hour of toe torture, he sent in his minion to remove the pins. I was then allowed to sit back up and put my shoes back on. My toes stung a little bit, but it wasn't too bad.

On the way out, he said, "Sometimes this doesn't work right away. The baby might turn this afternoon or tonight or tomorrow. Sometimes it even takes two times. You can come back on Tuesday and we can do it again." Since I'd written on the little interminable health history sheets that I was having a manual version the following day (a point which he either had forgotten, had never read, or didn't understand), I just sorta smiled and said that I'd call them.

But the real kicker? The $125 price tag. That's right. I paid a man I don't know and don't really trust at all over $100 to stick needles in my big toes and spin them around until I couldn't take it anymore.

Tell me who's the sucker here?

Anyway, after my toes recovered, we went to a dinner with our whole Sunday School class at which we told them about the next day's activities. We went home early so that I could get some rest. I didn't sleep a whole lot until after midnight though because I wasn't supposed to eat after midnight, so I figured I'd eat as much pasta as I could cram down my throat at 11:30. I did, and it was good, but it wasn't nearly enough for the next day's activities....

Which will be described in: To Ev'rything (Turn, Turn, Turn) or AJ's Story Part II.

The Waddle Song

So I've been thinking about this for a few weeks now...pretty much ever since the song came to mind, I've just never actually sat down to really make up the words. It's not "Weird Al" quality by any means, but the title line sure gets stuck in my head whenever I waddle anywhere.

Anyway, this is sung to the tune of "The Wassail Song," which is a rarely-sung New Year's song. I only know that because I looked it up. I always assumed it was a Christmas song. Of course, that might be due to the fact that the first time I heard it was on the California Raisin's Christmas Special when I was like 10. If you want to hear what the tune sounds like, go to this website.

Enjoy!

Here I come a-waddling
I used to be so lean!
Here I come a-waddling
This big, I've never been!
Love and joy come to you,
And someday you'll waddle too!
And God bless you, and send you
A healthy little kid!
And God send you a healthy little kid!

Bottoms Up

Parts of this may be tmi (too much information) for some of you. If you or your spouse has had a kid already, it's probably not, but if you haven't, then just be prepared or don't read the first couple of paragraphs. _DO_ read on after that though!

So VNB and I went to the big, 36-week check-up on Monday. While there, they did all the normal stuff (weight, pee in a cup, listen to heartbeat, answer questions, measure fundal height), plus a few more things (more bloodwork, vaginal exam, and two midwives independently checked the position of the baby).

Well, as usual, my weight gain was twice the "normal" of a pound a week, but they've stopped mentioning it at all, so I guess they figure that there's nothing to be done about it at this point. Plus, no one that knew me before can believe that I've put on 40 lbs, so it must at least _mostly_ be Baby. Peeing in a cup was normal, as were the heart tones, and I haven't heard anything back from the bloodwork, so it was probably fine too.

The midwife said that I was probably already a little dilated, about 50% effaced, and that she could feel the head. Then both of them felt up my belly and determined that the baby was head-down, as it's supposed to be at this point. So, things were good!

BUT, I was measuring small again (that's that fundal height thing), so I should go for another ultrasound, just in case. Their first available appointment was next Friday, so we weaseled/whined our way into a 10:30 cancellation.

The very first thing the tech said to us? "Well, the baby's breech."

...

Now, Baby had definitely been doing some major acrobatics in the waiting room, so it's possible that s/he just turned around for the pictures...but it's also possible that Baby's butt is round enough that both midwives thought it was his/her head.

Baby's still in the "frank breech" position that they were at the last ultrasound (remember how cute we thought it was that they were going to be a gymnast or a diver because of the pike position? Yeah...not so cute anymore.). If Baby doesn't turn, and if we can find a midwife/OB willing to do so, this is actually the only breech position that can be delivered vaginally with relative ease (the butt's not shaped _that_ much differently than the head, it's just a little smaller)...but otherwise, we're looking at a c-section. Our midwives have already told me to go ahead and schedule an appointment with their back-up OBs, just in case.

In the meantime, there are things I can be doing (exercises and stuff) to try to convince the baby to flip over. Also, there is anecdotal evidence that my stress level may cause the baby to feel the need to comfort me (or him/herself) by snuggling up by my heart and voice. So, theoretically, now that I'm done with meetings and rehearsals and concerts and can relax some, Baby should relax and flip over. I can also try putting ice packs on the top of my belly with light and music (or VNB's voice) near the bottom (of the belly).

Then there's "moxibustion." An acupuncturist takes these sticks of something, lights them, and puts them as close as I can stand to my little toes. For some reason, this makes the baby move around a lot and apparently flip over. I, personally, have always shied away from acupuncture. I'm not a huge fan of getting needles stuck into me to begin with, but to have them stay there for long periods of time while I look at them is like the worst thing ever. But add to that all of the "eastern mysticism" stuff and I'd just rather try something else. Except that this doesn't involve needles, and I've heard (and read) from multiple sources that it's actually pretty reliable for getting babies to turn. And getting this baby to turn is something that I'd _REALLY_ like to do. But I'm still in a bit of a quandary...because a lot of acupuncture, I firmly believe, is based on you believing that it will work. If I don't think it will, then it's probably not gonna. But I also don't want to leave any stone unturned.

Anyway, so I'd be interested in your opinion on acupuncture/pressure and/or moxibustion.

I'd also like all of you who are pray-ers to be praying this baby over for me. We were really hoping for an all natural birth in the birthing center rather than at a hospital. If Baby doesn't turn and we don't change practitioners, we're looking at major abdominal surgery in a hospital with lots of drugs, a much longer recovery time, and which adds all sorts of health risks to both me and the baby.

This baby may only be half "Turner," but as my dad said, "Turn! Turner, Turn!"

And, this baby just needs to realize that it should go ahead and practice for all those years ahead of him/her when, to the amusement of many a minister/musician, the entire congregation of mostly non-drinkers throws back their "shot" of grape juice during communion. That's right Baby, "Bottoms up!"

Open Letter to Crest Pro-Health

Dear Crest Pro-Health,

When you tell me that, unlike other brands, Crest Pro-Health "protects [among other things] gingivitis and plaque," you make me want to avoid your product. Why would I want a toothpaste that keeps gingivitis and plaque safe? And yet that's what that woman in a white lab coat tells me with a smile every time your commercial comes on. Like it's a good thing. To protect gingivitis and plaque. Are they going extinct? Do they really _need_ our protection? If so, wouldn't it be _far_ more protective for us to not brush our teeth at all?

These are the thoughts that run through my head every time I see your commercial. I don't think that's the message you're trying to get across. If it _is_, then I apologize for taking up your time, but I ask that you find a way to return to me the brain cells that I have expended in trying to answer these questions every time I see your commercial.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Princess Leia

Toting the Weary Load...

We're coming to the end of the line here in terms of the pregnancy, thank goodness. It's really not that I think we're completely prepared to be parents or anything, nor have I really given much thought at all to what the baby will be like, even though I keep hearing that that's what all expectant mothers do...it's just that gestating a baby is hard, exhausting work. I have never been so tired in my life. Our house is a complete wreck right now, but I just can't get up the energy to do anything to fix that. We've got a Christmas tree....that has nothing on it....it doesn't help that we're also getting in the cabinets for the kitchen that we ordered days before VNB's car died. He's putting those in himself, so right now every available space in the kitchen (and dining room) is overtaken by what was in the old cabinets which have already come down. The rest of the house is overtaken by clutter and or new cabinets, still in their boxes.

BUT, there IS a light at the end of this tunnel. While I've had something to do every evening since last Friday (last Thursday was my last free evening, and the earliest I've gotten home since then was about 8:30 PM...after leaving most mornings around 5:45 AM), we have the next two evenings completely free!!!!! VNB can work on the cabinets (once he gets the "pantry" cabinet in - and that's the first, apparently - a lot of the kitchen clutter can find a new home), and I can rest and do small projects (tonight's assignment is actually to clean out the cars as they weren't exactly "neat" either). Yay! And then after our last Christmas musical performance on Sunday night, we've got an entire WEEK of free evenings!!!! Followed by a "date" on Saturday and Christmas Eve services on Sunday, followed by another whole WEEK of free evenings (well, we're having dinner with his aunt and uncle one night, but that's not _so_ bad in terms of staying out late, etc.) _AND_ at least one day off of work for each of us, _AND_ my folks will be in town visiting, which might raise VNB's stress level some (mostly because he's worried about not getting the kitchen back together before they get here), but it'll help with mine considerably, I think. Then it's New Year's and then the last ~two weeks before Baby finally appears.

But that last month, we've got NOTHING. No FAITH training, no choir rehearsals, no specifically-planned group activities. If we go out, it'll be because we just want to hang out with each other and/or with friends. And the rest of the time, we'll be home being homebodies and resting before the "big show." :)

And I am looking forward to that, let me tell you. Last night, the last night of the marathon week, I had made it almost the whole way through the rehearsal. I wasn't standing to sing in order to save my strength for the weekend, but even so it was hard. And when we got to the very last song, just out of the blue, I had to fight back tears of exhaustion. I think it was because, at that moment, I was hit by the realization that on Saturday and Sunday I get to do, not only what I'd done that night (and to a lesser extent on Monday night as well), but do it while standing a good bit of the time, in a black dress, and with even more stage lights turned on at times (making it just that much hotter). And when the choir spontaneously decided to drop their music (not a song I have memorized, which adds stress), sway (extra motion and heat), and clap (something that requires concentration at least at times), I think I just couldn't take any more. I'd mostly gotten control of myself by the time the song ended, but I think the guy next to me must have seen some of the emotion because when he sat down, he promptly told me to go home. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth (and knowing that everyone would completely understand), I got up, got VNB's attention, and we left. And it was good.

I'm not necessarily ready for a baby, but I'm definitely ready to not be pregnant anymore. I should be "trading it all for the joy of the Lord," but right now I'm just fighting to stay upright and not cry from the strain.

But I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I really hope it's not a train.

Well that was...unexpected

So yesterday morning on our way to work, the dreaded "Check Engine" light came on in VNB's '96 Chevy Blazer that he bought from his uncle for ~$3000 about a year-and-a-half ago. While we waited to pick a friend up, we used his handy-dandy little code reader thing to find out what the error was, causing the light. It was error code 1870 - bottom line, transmission troubles.

So, after dropping me at the metro, VNB brought the car to the local dealership. Later on he called me with the news: They can fix the current issue for ~$500 and put a 5-mo warranty on it, but if something else dies (and that was highly likely), they'll need to replace the whole transmission. They have one on the shelf, but it'll cost ~$3000. After only a few minutes of discussion, it was decided that it wasn't worth it to put a new transmission (costing the same amount as the car did) into a 10-yr-old car...plus, we can afford a second car note right now that I'm working....but we don't anticipate me working (even part-time) forever, so if we're gonna do it, we should do it now rather than later.

So...we were buying a car. We very quickly decided against a brand new one (VNB wanted it, but the instant depreciation was too much for me), but both of us wanted a relatively late model that we knew would last us for a while. Since it was the end of the month and dealerships would be wanting to meet quotas, we figured we should start looking immediately, so VNB checked out CarMax.

First car that popped up from his search? 2005 Ford Escape Hybrid 4WD automatic, 22k miles, $22k. That was definitely a car we'd discussed in the past, so he had CarMax hold it for us for the day so that we could take a look at it after work.

But when he returned to the dealership to pick up his Blazer, they were waiting for him. They told him to search the lot for a car he was interested in. Of course, waiting for him was the Equinox that he'd been eyeing for years - 2005, AWD, automatic, 33k miles, $19k ("but we can go lower"). They couldn't hold it for him (and I was in a meeting right then, so couldn't answer when he called), but they could let him test drive it for the night and bring it back the next day...so he did. There was clearly some wear and tear on the car (door handles and buttons were worn, a wheel hub had obviously scraped something, as had one bumper, etc.), but it drove _pretty_ well (VNB notices vibrations that no one else can feel), and it _definitely_ had a lower step than our Blazer or my Escape (non-hybrid) (this is an issue for me right now with my big belly - lifting my feet to get into a car has become painful).

So we test drove the Equinox to CarMax to check out the Hybrid (heehee).

We both got to drive the hybrid (VNB thought it had stalled one time that it switched over to the electric motor), and the salesman (who wasn't expecting us as early as we came and so was involved elsewhere too) gave us plenty of time to discuss. While we were discussing it, we happened across another Equinox in their showroom - same make, model, amenities (except no sun roof), about the same miles, and in better physical shape...but only $17k.

Not liking the feel of the Chevy dealer's Equinox or the fact that their initial price was so much higher, we took that off the table. So the decision was down to the Equinox at CarMax (that we hadn't driven), and the Hybrid. We went through the math of how much we were gonna save with the _MUCH_ better gas mileage with the hybrid (a minimum of ~$40/month), figured out how long it would take us to recoup the $7k difference in price (a long time), wondered about tax credits for used hybrids (still don't know the answer to that one), wondered whether maintenance would cost more on a hybrid and if CarMax's extended warranty would cover the "hybrid" parts too (except for the batteries themselves, it does), didn't want to buy it just because it was "cool" (although that was definitely a factor for both of us), wondered why a lightly-used hybrid was sitting at CarMax when it was only two years old, and basically were both afraid to make a decision.

So we did what anyone would do in that situation. That's right. We flipped a coin (hey - that's how they picked out Jonah...casting lots is entirely Biblical...really.... ;p ). Heads, we took the hybrid, tails, the Equinox (or at least, not the hybrid, not right now - although they couldn't hold it for us overnight, so it might not be there later if we wanted time to think it over). Mostly I just wanted to see how we reacted to the coin flip - if we were happy/relieved to see that it was heads or disappointed that it was tails (or vice versa). It was heads...and we were both scared to admit that that was what we wanted.

But we both knew that wanting something and knowing that we ought to buy something are two different things...so even flipping a coin didn't really help that much (although the anecdotal "signage" from God was mounting).

But CarMax has that nice 7-day no questions asked return policy, so we figured we could still take our time with the final, FINAL decision and still not pass up on the opportunity.

So after waking up with no expectations of getting a new car anytime soon, we went to bed with a 2001 Escape, a 2005 Escape Hybrid, a borrowed 2005 Equinox, and a 1996 Blazer.

Since the Blazer's transmission is going to die very soon, we figured we wouldn't get a very good deal from CarMax for it, so we're going to give it to a charity instead...now we just have to figure out which one. So, to aid in that transition, this morning VNB drove the Equinox with me following behind in the Hybrid (probably one of the last times I'll get to drive it :). We dropped the Equinox off at his work, he dropped me off at the metro, then dropped the Hybrid off at his work, drove the Equinox over to the dealership, and presumably gave it back, returning to work in the Blazer. The Blazer will stay in the lot at his work until we find a charity to take it. Which means that we're driving the hybrid home and will be back to having only two cars there. It was/is quite the dance.

Life (God) keeps doing this to us. Leia's back from Iraq for two months? Oh - meet VNB. Six months later? Engaged. Six months after that? Married. Two months later? Pregnant, and a new/old job. We finally get caught up on debts and bills, with a little in the bank? Need a new car. Two months from now? New baby, job/life drastically changes. I feel like I'm in one of those Nationwide commercials - "Life comes at you fast. Don't you wish everything did?" Just two years ago I was travelling the world, with very few strings to tie me down. Now I'm married, about to have a baby, with a "real" job, a mortgage, and two car notes.

I feel like I need to stop and catch my breath (at the very least). Another part wants to run. I've chucked it all once before, why not again? But then I look on my desk and see VNB staring out at me from our very first picture together. Not only am I reminded of how hot he is every time I see that picture, but his eyes do for me exactly what they do in real life - they settle me down. There's no doubt that being with him is the right thing and right now, that means marriage, mortgage, car notes, and a baby on the way.

Next to that picture is one from our wedding. Now, he's hot in the first picture I described, but that's in an approachable kind of way. On the day of our wedding, he was scorching, too-hot-to-touch hot (I think it's the combination of the haircut and the suit...and just his general hotness...have I mentioned that I think he's hot?). But that's all really beside the point.

Next to that picture is the sonogram pic I posted several months ago of our baby sucking his/her thumb in utero. Despite my ever-expanding girth (pics to follow soon) and my constant state of discomfort, it's still hard to believe sometimes that I'm pregnant and will soon be a mommy. But the little one in that picture is so precious, with all of those little baby parts being so perfectly knit together...and is certainly making sure I know they're there with the constant indigestion and the dance parties... Despite the excruciating leg cramps and dreams of Martha Stewart (don't ask) that interrupted my slumber last night, and despite the fact that it's getting hard to walk with a 35+-lb bowling ball strapped to my belly...I know that the baby's just _right_ for right now too. (Plus, with walking as difficult as it is, running is certainly out of the question, and even if I _did_ run, the baby would still be attached when I got to where ever I was going, so there's not exactly any escaping this one. ;p )

I guess, really, I've just exchanged one type of spontaneity and freedom for another. Before, I could go where I wanted, when I wanted (basically). Now, there's someone who's got my back if something goes wrong, and with whose management we've been able to get to the point where it was OK for us to be unexpectedly pregnant, and to where we could discover one day that we needed to buy a car...and actually buy one that same day (and have it be a cool one!!!)!

So, surprise! We've got a hybrid, and we think it's cool! And so far, I think we're gonna keep it.

...Wow...

So let me recount my Sunday morning to you. Believe me, it's worth the read...

I got up in plenty of time to take a leisurely shower, fix and eat breakfast, get dressed, and get to church in plenty of time to get ready to sing the special music at the 8 AM service. I had a good bit of stuff to carry in, so getting out of the car was a bit of a chore, but I managed. So I sang in the service, then sat in my Sunday School room, reading a magazine, waiting for everyone to get there when VNB called...

"It's going to be really hard for me to get to church today." You see, I had taken his car instead of mine since his has a tape deck and mine doesn't and I wanted to go over my song a few times on the way. That wouldn't have been a problem except that I'm the only one with a key to my car...so he was stuck at home.

So I wrote a note to the class explaining our absence and began gathering my things when I realize that I couldn't find my keys. I'd set all of my stuff down in several locations throughout the church over the course of the morning though, so I began retracing my steps. Coming up empty, my last stop is in the church office where I asked if anyone's turned any keys in. Since no one had, the office manager offered to check my car for me (did I mention that it was VERY rainy on Sunday?). As I'm standing inside, waiting for him to return, someone else who's just come in asked, "Oh...is that _your_ car that's on?"

Whoops...

So the office manager returns, verifying that a) the keys are in the car, and b) the car is indeed running. (And had been since I'd gotten there two hours previously.)

So I went back to my Sunday School room to borrow a car to go get VNB (who has spare keys to _his_ car, just not mine). One of the girls let me borrow her car and I proceeded to pop the hood with my left hand while keeping my right hand on the emergency brake. After closing the hood and successfully disengaging the brake, I began my trek home to get VNB.

It is at that point that I performed the most difficult task of all - I called him to let him know what was happening. He very quickly told me to turn around because there's a key in a magnetic box under the back bumper....oh, and when I left at 7:15 (over an hour before he got up), I left the front door open. Now, our door has springs on it, so it's not like it was wide open or anything, but the springs aren't strong enough to actually get the door to latch, so it wasn't just unlocked, it was obviously open.

Whoops...

So I turned around and headed back to church. As I (almost 7-months pregnant, in a dress and heels, holding an umbrella, in the rain) was squatting behind the car, searching in vain for the hide-a-key, one of the guys from the church walked by and offered assistance. He managed to find the key, but neither of us could actually get the box (which was pretty wet by then, as were our hands) open. So we went inside, dried off the box, practically had to break it, but finally got it open.

So we trekked back out with the key, opened the door and discovered that not only had the car been _ON_ for over two hours, it had been on and in _DRIVE_ for over two hours. I'd put the emergency brake on, but had never put it into park.

Whoops...

So then I returned my friend's car keys and headed home to pick up VNB. We missed Sunday School completely (although they _DEFINITELY_ enjoyed a "few" chuckles at my expense - especially as I came and went with story updates), but made it back in time for the service.





You know...they talk about "pregnancy" or "placenta brain," but up until now (despite what VNB might tell you), I haven't been any more absent-minded than normal really....but wow....all of that to happen at once! Here's hoping that I've gotten it all over with and will now revert to normal, because it's going to be a very _long_ two months otherwise.

Yeah...I'm not holding my breath, don't worry. But a girl can dream, can't she?

Aughra

Hopefully most of you have seen "The Dark Crystal." It was a (kinda slow, but otherwise VERY good) movie that came out in 1982 whose cast was entirely Muppets (but no one from Sesame Street or The Muppet Show - and incidentally, there's apparently a sequel in the works!). One of the characters was named Aughra. In looking for pictures of her, I've discovered that she's both male and female, just that the male part of her has shrivelled by the time of the movie. Who knew? (Well, beside the guy whose website I got that tidbit from...) Anyway, I'll call her a "her" since that's how I've always thought of her (and I think how they address her in the movie).

So here's a pic:



Now you might wonder why I'm posting about her. Well, the reality of the situation is that, while I'm still part hobbit in my eating habits (and expanding hairiness), I think I'm now becoming part Aughra too. Not only does she do a good "pregnant lady" impression (leaning forward with a pot belly and holding her back), but she also groans/grunts like every time she moves.

Especially at night now (when I'm lying down) or when I'm trying to get up from a chair or the couch, that's become me. I've even woken VNB up a couple of times as I've rolled over in bed, not because of the motion, but because of the grunting required to turn my hips (with their extra 30 lbs). It's not pretty.

Pretty funny, but not pretty. :)

Anyway, for those who wonder how pregnancy feels/is treating me...well, apparently I become Muppet-like. When I start growing purple fur, a big orange nose, or wings, I'll let you know.

Fire Drill

So we had a pre-announced fire drill in our building today. Let me rephrase that - we're currently having a pre-announced fire drill in our building today. Why am I sitting here blogging, you ask? Well, the building/company policy is that pregnant women (and the otherwise infirm) are supposed to stay in a room with a window and a phone with someone who is not infirm, call 911, and wait for the firemen to rescue them. So, while the rest of my office has to wait outside in the cold, I get to sit in my office and blog. Theoretically, I'm supposed to go to someone else's office to wait for the firemen, but since we know it's a drill (and we're not supposed to call 911), and he knows that I'm in my office (he's walked by twice now), I get to sit in my office and do whatever I want.

The only downside is that our hallway's fire alarm is literally right outside my door...and not only that, but there's a HUGE amount of static for the "There HAS been an emergency reported in the building. Please immediately evacuate using marked stairways and exits. Do NOT use the elevators." The siren is usually the annoying part. This time it's all the rest. And I get to listen to it probably for the entire half-hour that the people are supposed to stay outside.

I feel like I'm playing hookey from school or something (only with a _LOT_ more static).

Heh...as Baby moves around, I wonder what s/he is thinking of all the noise.