Yucky, Eewy, Digustin

I guess I have already started using childlike phrases for my child who isn't even 8 months yet. If he reaches for the dirty diaper during a change I'll tell him, "No, Brady, that's YUCKY." Or, if he burps or farts on me I'll exclaim "That's DIGUSTIN" (my Mommy word). I think it's fun and he always seems to get a kick out of the way I say things rather than the words themselves.

Somehow or another, we got some "yuckiness" into our house recently. Fleas. Yes, fleas. Tell me how that's even possible when we don't have an animal living with us. Even when Cody lived with us he never had them and I was never covered from head to toe with bites and scars from scratching. I am MISERABLE. I am highly allergic to their bites and have done nothing but scratch myself raw for weeks now, and have been forced into wearing jeans to cover the ugliness that is now my legs. I had the "bug man" come out over a week ago to spray and the biting let up for a few days, but it seems as if new eggs quickly hatched and they were back to feasting on my flesh. I am pretty sure they're coming from my neighbor's house into my house somehow because she has them running rampant in her house and hasn't done anything about them. YUCK.

On a side note unrelated to yuckiness, I am gearing up for our trip to Detroit in a few weeks. I have been searching the internet relentlessly to find tips on flying with an infant. I went ahead and spent an extra $300 to get Brady his own seat since the flight is 4.5 hours long and I'll be with him alone. I am hoping this was a good decision! I know that I will have to be totally "un-Leah" during the flying days and just be patient and relaxed. I am bound to misplace something, Brady is bound to cry, I am bound to need a whole bottle of wine upon landing in Detroit and back in LA.

I am looking very forward to being with my family for so long and having playdates with Noelle and Jaycie. I am also looking very forward to having a bit of help! Things have been really good here for the last couple of months but I am going to enjoy giving him to Grammy and enjoying a night or two out with "the girls".

Shaq's Big Challenge

I am not usually one for reality TV shows - especially the crappy ones about dating or other nonsense - but last night I got sucked right into "Shaq's Big Challenge" when we were flipping through the channels before bed. I hadn't seen many commercials about it and really had a feeling it would mostly be about Shaq (who I am not a big fan of), but I was really wrong.

This was almost horrifying to watch. The kids on this show were not just overweight, they were classified as Morbidly Obese by weight standards. Every single one of these pre-teens and teens weighed more than I do - and I'm a grown woman who is nearly 6 feet tall. None of them could do sit ups and push ups, and they all failed the Presidential Fitness Test they were given.

The saddest part of the whole thing was that it seemed as if their parents were totally clueless as to the condition of their child or how they got there. One mother even said "I feel like I am partially to blame for this". No, seriously?? You must be kidding. You are not partially to blame, lady, you are fully to blame. Your 13 year old daughter doesn't have the money, the car, or the skills to get her own groceries -- she depends on you to do that. So, how is it that you're only PARTIALLY to blame? You bring the junk into the house, you fill her up on fast food and pizza on a daily basis because you're too "tired" or "overworked" to get a decent, healthy meal on the table. You let her sit on her butt after school and don't encourage her to exercise. This isn't just partially your fault, honey, it's all your fault.

I understand that some children have a predisposition to being heavier because of their genes, and I understand that today's society doesn't allow our kids to be able to play outside all day and only come home for meals, but that doesn't mean that there isn't anything we can do as parents. The thought of letting Brady out of my sight for hours on end and chance it that a serial killer/child molester/pervert would get a hold of him scares me to death - but I won't let him stay inside his whole life. He'll be enrolled in sports, we'll go to the park, we'll kick the soccer ball around the yard. He will NOT be sentenced to a life at home playing video games because I'm too scared of what will happen to him.

Speaking of the video games, the boy named Walter on the show was the perfect poster child for what's wrong with this country. The kid spends 5 hours PER DAY playing video games, in a recliner, 3 feet from his TV. He is socially stunted for a 15 year old and had the maturity level and social skills of a 7 year old. I had always known I didn't want to have video consoles be a babysitter for my kid - and now I'm seriously considering throwing whatever XBOX thing Patrick has out in the trash (he hasn't played it in almost a year anyway!). I will be like my cousin, Todd, and his wife and just plain not allow my kids to play video or computer games.

Before last night I really had an aversion to Shaq because I feel like he gets away with a lot of crap in the NBA due to his size, but I have a newfound respect for him for wanting to take this on. Childhood obesity is not just a problem, it's an epidemic in this country. I really believe that there is no more personal responsibility left in the world and parents feel like they can just do the minimal when it comes to their children, and when there's an issue, it's everyone else's fault.

I refuse to let that happen to my child - and I wish more people cared like Shaq to help stop this form of child abuse.

Teething Bites

I once saw a bib in Babies R Us that read that very statement.

I was pleasantly plump and pregnant at the time, took one glance, laughed, and walked away. I never knew that the silly statement on that bib would become the title of my life as it currently stands.

Brady is now cutting his 6th tooth, which is also known as tooth number 4 in three weeks. He does not seem to be handling these teeth as well as the others and his usual laughter and babbling has been replaced with incessant whining and humming. According to my mother, who has been through this three times, the humming vibration helps his gums. This is quite possibly the only thing that helps him right now because Tylenol, teething tablets, cold washcloths, frozen toys, and Orajel don't seem to be doing a damn thing.

He is currently refusing to nap, most likely because the pain in his gums keeps him from peaceful sleep during the day. I should be careful not to complain, because he does still sleep his regular 12 hours at night, so at least we have been good there. For the last 10 days, he has taken nothing but 30 - 40 minute naps, which means when he goes down I must rush to shower and dress before he wakes up -- or stuff my lunch in my mouth and throw a load of laundry in before he wants out of his crib.

I am beginning to think that I am being punished for something I did as a teenager. It would make perfect sense - payback for the crap I did to my parents is having a 6 month old teethe constantly for a month straight, right. What I can't figure out yet is whether or not this is payback for one certain thing I did, or my teen years as a whole. I'm hoping it's cumulative payback because if it's for only one thing, I hate to see what my other paybacks are going to be.

In some better news, Patrick finally made 2nd Class Petty Officer on Friday and I was there to pin his "crows" on. The best part of that whole thing is MO' MONEY! :) Also, my very own pat on the back is that I am now back in my size 6 jeans and I am SUPER happy. It only took 6 months...sheesh.

Homesick

Over the last six and a half years I have had a few bouts of homesickness after visits from relatives or trips back to Detroit. They always lasted a day or two, but I quickly got back into my routine and my own life and the feelings subsided. I have always missed our friends and family, but it was easy to enjoy new places and friends because the phone kept me in step with everyone back in Michigan. I know that living away from everyone will always bring on some sort of feeling like we are missing out, but I haven't ever felt the gut wrenching, heartbreaking homesickness I've been having the last few days.

I should have known that when Sarah came to visit it was going to turn out like this. Having her here with me for over a week was so fantastic and we had such a great time. I knew that as the week was drawing to a close I would have a hard time saying good bye, but I never imagined that I would feel so empty after she left. I watched her cry as she kissed Brady before we left and I felt like the cruelest person for keeping him from her by living so far away. For the first time since we left almost seven years ago the guilt became so crushing that I had to fight back my tears because I knew I would lose it.

I told Mom that I have never felt so awful in all my life, and that I had always missed them, but having Brady made it much harder to deal with. I feel like he is missing out on so much. I feel like WE are missing out on so much. Everyday he hangs out with me, he sees me, he loves me...but if we were closer to home he would be able to see his Grandmothers, Aunts, Uncle and cousins on a consistent basis. He would be able to get to know them and do special things with them. What I wouldn't give for a Sunday dinner with the family.

I honestly don't know how long this feeling is going to last, but I'm pretty sure it's going to be here for a while. I came home from the airport and told Patrick that we were moving back to Detroit. He could become a firefighter and I could stay home with the kids, and we could be happy with our family around. I told him that I just couldn't take this anymore and I wanted to go home. Of course, he knew I was blowing off steam, but the majority of my heart knows that I was serious.

Everyday is supposed to be easier, and yet it's not. I hope this bout of homesickness subsides quickly.

The SAHM

Years ago the thought of giving up my career to stay at home with my kids made me chuckle. I couldn't possibly sacrifice my paycheck and nice lifestyle to be covered in spit up and pureed carrots on a daily basis, could I? Even though I fell into Insurance on a whim, I was still proud of all I had accomplished in my short time in the industry, and thought for sure that I would be the kind of mother who needed to work outside the home to feel like I was contributing to my family's future. Society's view of a stay at home mom is a bleak one, anyway. Add in the preconceived notions of a military spouse and, BAM, you have a recipe for people to instantly turn down their noses at you.

I did return to work for a short time after Brady was born. He was about 7 weeks old and I went back to help my department transition because we were moving away and a new agent would be taking my spot. The morning Brady left with Patrick to go to the sitter's house, I cried my eyes out. It was the first time I had been away from him and my heart broke into a million pieces as the door closed behind them. I got ready for work and returned to my desk that day as only a body. My heart and soul were with that baby across town, and it was all I could do to keep myself from crying all day. I even stuck one of his teeny, tiny socks in my pocket so I could rub it when I started to feel sad. It was in those moments that I knew I had been wrong for all those years.

You cannot always tell what your future holds, but when your ideas about life change, you roll with the punches. I couldn't be a happier person now that I have a short, bald guy for a boss. Sure, I'm not bringing in a paycheck or solving insurance problems anymore, but I'm doing something much more important. I am raising my son. Me. I get to see him smile all day. I get to make him laugh hysterically when he's tickled. I get to watch in amazement as he tries to crawl before my very eyes, and I get the complete satisfaction of knowing that I will never regret this decision.

So, society may not yet accept a woman who "sacrifices" herself to raise her family, but I know full well that tomorrow, when that precious baby wakes up, my life is completely perfect and I am right where I want to be.

Settling In

We have finally made it and settled into our home in San Diego. There are a few loose ends to tie up with organizing the house, but for the most part we are unpacked. The trip was an "uneventful eventful" ride. Turns out that Brady HATES the car. Scratch that. He DESPISES the car. He screamed most of the way from Virginia to San Diego, which wore our nerves out tremendously. My precious, beautiful angel was a screaming devil child in the car.

At first I tried desperately to calm him - signing, toys, DVD's, silence. Nothing worked. Nothing even made a dent in his attempts to scream his guts out. Finally, after days of endless screaming the whole time he was awake, and futile attempts to calm him, I finally gave up and let him cry. I had to laugh while he was doing it because otherwise I would have gone stark raving mad.

I searched endlessy for reasons that he would be so upset. Was his seat belt too tight? Was his car seat loose? Was he sick? I worried myself to death with what could possibly be wrong with him until I noticed a pattern. When the little bugger would hear the seatbelt unclicking, or feel the carseat lifitng off the base, he was INSTANTLY a better baby. He went from lunatic to angel baby in a matter of nanoseconds when he was out of the car. The conclusion was that he just flat out hates the car. Unfortunately, I'm told this goes on for months and months at a time. I am dreading leaving the house.

Along with the unpacking, for the last week we have tried to get Brady into a routine - something he is not used to. With the routine came the unwanted sleeping in his crib, in his own room. It has been a plight to get him to nap or sleep at night on his own, and we have spent countless, endless hours trying to get him back to sleep. The vicous cycle continued daily when he wouldn't sleep enough during the day, and even less at night.

Ultimately, we have broken down and tried the approach we never thought we'd try - crying until he puts himself to sleep. Thankfully, it is not a horrid as it sounds. Noelle gave me the name of a program that several of her girlfriends tried and swear by. "The Sensible Sleep Program" helps you understand that it is your job as a parent to help your child learn how to sleep on his/her own. You do not have to close the child in the room and wait while he screams himself to sleep, you can be in the room with him to give him support and loving touches while he figures this all out. It was hard, but he fell asleep after only 28 minutes of crying. He woke up again 32 minutes later, but put himself to sleep on his own (I was in the room) in 18 minutes. Again, he woke up after about a half hour, but it only took him 5 minutes to fall asleep again.

I feel this method is "humane" and I can honestly say I feel empowered already by giving him the tools he needs to sleep on his own. I mean, come on, who really wants to have to rock a 25 pound 2 year old to sleep?

Speaking of size, Brady had his 4 month appointment on Friday and he continues to grow very well. He's 24 inches and 14 pounds. He falls within the 25% percentile, but the doctor said he's doing very, very well.

I am off to put myself to sleep and pray that the learning of sleep habits doesn't take more than a few nights to teach.

I have spent the last two days off from work. The first to take care of my sick little guy (just a cold, no worries), and the second to attend to appointments. One of which was having my temporary crown put in...BLECH. The other was to take Brady to his 2 month appointment. My little man isn't so little anymore. He's weighing in at 11 pounds 3 ounces and is now 22 inches long! That's 5 pounds and 4 inches he's added since birth!

I came into work today to find out that my department had a meeting and I was to be left out of it to answer any client calls that came in. I have officially become the "red-headed step child" of my department. They changed the name on my phone to show up as Heather now (my replacement), they got rid of my business cards on my desk, and I was lucky to even have a desk to come back to since they put Heather here just before my return. I am slowly being erased from my position, and I know I should be happy, but it's not fun to be left out of everything. I'm still here everyday, I still get all my work done, I'm still getting a paycheck, so why is it so hard to still include me in the daily activities?

Patrick is currently headed to MI for the weekend to take Cody to live with my Mom. The poor dog has been severly neglected by me since Brady came, but I couldn't help but bawl my eyes out last night as I said my "goodbye" to him. He's only going to be with her for the time we're in San Diego but for the last 5 years I have rarely ever been away from that dog. He has been the thing that I've come home to for years. He kept me company many lonely nights while Patrick was away. He kept me warm on the cold nights when I had to sleep alone. I know this is the best decision for us, but it's so hard to think about him not being around for a while.

There is still so much to do to get ready for this move and I can barely drum up the energy to do anything. I'm so exhausted I can't keep my eyes open at night. Brady and I are going to relax all weekend long. It's cold out and I don't want to take him anywhere!

22 days until we're out of VA...thank GOD!

A New Life...

I've been severely lacking in time and opportunity to come and update this blog, which, along with housecleaning, is at the bottom of my list of priorities these days. My precious free time is now reserved for cuddling with my little man after a long day of work.

Since my last post, life has changed dramatically. On November 14th, I woke up feeling a ton of pressure in my "nether regions" and called the doctor to see what was up. They had me come in to monitor me for a little while and found I was still having irregular contractions. The nurse practioner advised that they would be surprised if I made it another week. I then asked her if I should call my Mom to tell her to get here, and she replied "OH YEAH! As soon as possible!".

Mom arrived later that night and we spent the next two days running errands and keeping me off my feet. My doctor appointment on Thursday that week showed that I was still dialating and was 100% effaced. Dr. Cox stripped my membranes to help the process along since I was defintely going soon. By 9:20 the next morning, November 17th, I was having full blown contractions every 4 - 7 minutes. I thought it was strange that I felt them all in my back -- and later learned the true meaning of BACK LABOR.

We arrived at the hospital around noon and I was convinced they were going to send me home. I thought for sure I was going to be that woman that ended up going to L&D 18 times before she really was in labor. After monitoring me for about fifteen minutes, the nurse came in and said, "We're not picking up any ctx on the monitor." I said, "Well, than what am I feeling???" She moved the belt to the other side and continued to monitor me. After another 15 minutes she came in and said "Yup, you're in labor." No kidding, eh?

I made it through the contractions without any drugs for the majority of my labor, but after she broke my water they got much worse. I was drug free for 11 of my 12 hours of labor - which I'll likely never do again! My labor was all in my back and it hurt like nothing I've ever experienced. However, I was able to "enjoy" about 45 minutes of the epidural before I started pushing. After pushing through 4 contractions, a total of 15 minutes, Brady Thomas Coppo was born! They whisked him immediately over to the NICU nurses who were waiting for him, but after checking him out they determined they were not needed. Daddy got to hold him first and then he was given to me. At that moment, I looked into my child's eyes and felt the most intense, deep, and profound love a person could ever imagine.

He weighed in at 6 pounds, 4 ounces and was 18 inches long. He was such a tiny little guy, and I just knew I wanted to hold onto him forever. He was covered in muck, had a mild rash looking thing on his body - but he was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. By the time he arrived in our suite that night, he was cleaned up and wide eyed. I spent the first night in the hospital listening to him make the most amazing noises as he slept. I wasn't sure if these were good noises, so I worried at first -- and then when he stopped making them, I worried that something was wrong.

I love being a Mommy, and while the first few weeks were hard (including another hospital stay as a result of him having a choking episode), it has gotten much easier. He now smiles, coos and laughs at me. I stopped breastfeeding because something in my milk was not agreeing with him, and he's been completely happy and content ever since. I don't regret my decision to stop either because I quickly learned that I would sever my arm with a dull knife in order to make this child happy.

So - that's it for now. We have our move quickly approaching, and while I waste time here at work I may be able to update more. As of today I only have 22 days left until work is done (14 actual work days thanks to our trip to NY this weekend).

Long time...

It's been a long time since I sat down to update this thing - and a lot has changed! For one, we found out a couple weeks ago that we're moving to San Diego this winter so that Patrick can go to a Navy training school for Corpsmen. We'll be leaving VA in February so we can go home for a few weeks with the baby and then make our way cross country with our little squirt in tow. Should be an adventure. I'm really excited because it means I get to stay home with the baby for at least the first year and a half of its life. We're going to have so much fun out there.

In other big news, I managed to find myself in Preterm Labor last week and ended up in the hospital for 3 days. They got my contractions under control, finally, and I'm home on bedrest now. Actually, it's more like couchrest. I'm allowed to go up and down the stairs once a day, make my food, go to the bathroom, but other than that I'm on my back - which is likely how I got in this position in the first place! HA!

I had a doctor's appointment today and found that I'm still 2cm dialated and 50% effaced, but the baby's head is "right there" according to my doc. This means I'm probably going soon, although we don't know when. I was given steroid shots in the hospital to help mature the baby's lungs so if it is born early he or she will be okay. I'm terrified to have an early baby because I don't want it to have to be in the NICU, but I'll take whatever God throws my way.

That's it for now. I'll keep posting as much as I can so I can remember these days down the line. Baby Coppo will be here soon...


33 weeks 3 days

The End Is Near

Tuesday marked a very important stage in this pregnancy, at least to me.  That night, Patrick and I went to the hospital to have our “New Baby” tour of the Maternity wing.  We wandered around wide eyed and excited along with 12 other couples who were to also deliver there.

During the work day I could hardly focus on anything other than the fact that this was happening – and in less than 11 weeks!  I stared blankly at the computer screen in front of me and constantly rattled off an internal list of what, exactly, we hadn’t done yet in preparation for this baby.  I had several freak out sessions and even had to call my Mom to declare, “Oh my gosh…I’m going to have a baby!”  To which she replied, “I’m sorry, is this the FIRST time you’re realizing this?”  Yes, I have finally transitioned from just ‘being pregnant’ to ‘holy cow, I’m going to have to push a human being out of my hoo-ha’ and ‘I am going to be completely responsible for another person’s life’.  I can honestly tell you that the revelation of these facts is truly wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.

The maternity ward was clean, quiet and comfortable.  I’ll labor, deliver and recover all in my own private room, and then afterwards we will move into our own Mother/Baby suite – complete with fold out bed for Daddy to sleep on.  The most significant part of the tour for me, besides getting to see the rooms where we’ll be, was finding out about their steps towards the security of the baby.  Not only will the baby have two ID bands (one on the leg, one on the wrist), but Patrick and I will also have bands that will be checked to the match the baby every time it is placed with us in the room.  On top of that, each baby wears another security band that is hooked up to the central security of the hospital.  If a baby crosses certain areas of the floor, an alarm will go off and the entire hospital will shut down, including elevators and doorways.  We were told to be “very careful” where we go on the floor so as not to trip the alarm.  This brought a sense of relief to most of the mothers there given how many babies have been stolen from hospitals in the last 10 years. 

I am in the final weeks of this adventure and everything is becoming more and more real.  I believe the “nesting” part has started because all I can think about is getting home to clean my house.  I’ve become a clean freak – quite the opposite from lazy Leah.  Last night, we went out to Target and used one of our gift cards to purchase sleepers, onesies, and booties for the baby.  Patrick proudly held up the booties and said “Can you even believe that its feet are going to be THIS small?” 

I hope to never forget how it feels to have this baby move around inside me, kick me, punch me…it’s the most fantastic feeling in the whole world.  Even as I sit here I’m being poked and prodded by either a fist or an elbow…I’m not sure which one.  This is truly one of the most beautiful blessings God has bestowed on us humans and I’m extremely proud to be a part of the process.

RIP

Edward Coppo – “HaHa”

December 2, 1913 – September 18, 2006

 

We just returned to VA from a long, short weekend in Michigan.  We left unexpectedly last week because HaHa (Patrick’s grandpa) had been checked into hospice and they didn’t expect him to live much longer.  We drove to Baltimore on Wednesday after work, flew to Detroit Friday morning, and then drove 10 hours up to Houghton after we arrived.  It was a rough trip all the way around, with us returning on Sunday night.  We were able to see all of Patrick’s extended family while we were there, so that was a plus, but having to see Haha in his current condition was heart-wrenching to say the least.  He had withered away to 95 pounds and was in terrible pain from the cancer in his lower extremities.  I tried so hard to be strong for Patrick while we were visiting him, but broke down many times and had to excuse myself to cry in the hall.  It’s excruciating to have to see your loved one in so much pain, and you honestly pray that the Lord will take them soon so they no longer have to suffer.

 

HaHa did remember Patrick at one point after waking from one of his frequent morphine induced naps.  He saw him standing there and said “Patrick?” and Patrick went immediately to his side.  He asked if Patrick was still in school, and Patrick reminded him that he was in the military.  HaHa then went on to say how much he liked to fish and watch hockey, baseball and football.  Patrick brought up the Tigers and they talked managers for a few minutes.  It seemed for that moment the dementia and Alzheimer’s hadn’t affected his memory.  He fell back asleep, and woke up later and asked about Jim (Patrick’s Dad).  He didn’t remember then that Jim had died, but when we reminded him, he seemed to understand, asking “About three years ago, right?”  All we could say was yes – even though it was 12.

 

We left after a short while because the hospice nurse came by to do her job, and Patrick decided he didn’t want to go back later that day because he had left HaHa on a good note, and he was afraid to go back in case he was worse.  I can’t say I blame him.

 

We were informed this morning that he passed last night very peacefully.  I am glad his suffering is over and that he is at peace.  He’s up there with Noni, Jim and Uncle Patrick now, with both his legs in full use, and he’s enjoying his family.  Heaven has another angel with HaHa, and I know he is enjoying his time up there.

Mo' Money, Mo' Money, Mo' Money!

The Coast Guard finally came through yesterday, albeit a little late, with the list of cuts for advancement -- and Patrick is going to be making 2nd Class Petty Officer!!! He is in New Jersey for the weekend so I had to call him and tell him about it! I love being the bearer of fantastic news!

This means a pay raise just in time (or shortly thereafter) for the baby to be able to spend it! We've waited a long time for this and are super excited that it's happening for him. Our chances have now improved that we may be getting out of here next summer, but I'm not going to hold my breath. :)

Today, Jenn and I are going to get massages and have a girls day. She's back in town for a school and I can't believe just how much I've missed her. It's crazy.

Tomorrow is Rally Day at church, so I'll be at Newport News Park all day...outside...in the heat...ugh.

In All Her Glory...

26 weeks pregnant...

Oh, Ernesto!

I have now lived through my first ever Tropical Storm system – TS Ernesto.  He came across Florida earlier this week as a Depression, and then quickly picked up speed as he got back out into the Atlantic.  The highest the winds got were 70 mph, so he never officially became a Hurricane, but was damn near close.

This morning I woke up early from the sounds of wind and rain, turned on the TV to watch a bit of the coverage, and then decided to jump in the shower.  Just as I was turning on the water, the power went out and came back on.  Then, as fast as it came back on, it was out again – and I was left standing in the dark wondering how I was going to get ready for work with no electricity!  We live in a townhouse, so there are only 4 windows in the whole place, and the bathroom is not one of them.  I had to take a shower by candlelight, which under different circumstances would have been highly romantic, and throw make up on my face as I piled my hair in a bun. 

Driving to work was treacherous, even for a 2.5 mile commute.  Power was out EVERYWHERE but work…wouldn’t you know it.  We sat here all day as the wind whipped the leaves around, bent the trees, and shook the building.  40 mph winds with 60 mph gusts were nothing to laugh at.  The rain came down in buckets – and I can honestly say that I cannot remember ever seeing so much in one day in my life. 

The majority of the storm has now passed us, and they are finally letting us out of work a little early so we can go home and survey the damage.  I’m sure the next week will be full of calls here at work, but as my boss said yesterday “This is what we do in our business”.  I’m just glad we don’t have any trees on our house!

The only one...

Last night I took my first pregnancy exercise class after work.  I should have been doing this all along and maybe I wouldn’t have put on so much weight already, but I digress.  The class was at Riverside Wellness Center and it’s free for those who deliver there, so I figured why not!  The class had about 8 other girls in it, and besides the girl who is due in 2 weeks, we were all mostly due in November and December.  It was nice to “size” everyone up and know that I’m not bigger than I think I am and seem to be right on target for now!  (“For now” being the operative words here, since I’m definitely not done growing yet!).

 

During warm up, which finally got my blood pumping for the first time in months, we did introductions.  The girl who was due in two weeks started, and we went around the room saying when we were due, whether or not this was our first child, and the gender of the baby.  As the girls went around, each and every one of them was able to say “This is a…” and spill the gender while proudly rubbing their protruding belly.  Finally, it became my turn to introduce myself (I was the newbie), and I said “I’m Leah, this is my first, I’m due December 12^th – and we don’t know what we’re having.”  I said it almost sheepishly because in that moment I felt like the ONLY person in the whole world who wasn’t able to proudly tell the gender of their child.  I got a resounding “I don’t know how you do it!” and, “I need to know what kind of clothes to buy!” to which I replied, “This isn’t my doing!  If it were up to me, I would know already!  It’s my husband’s fault!  He doesn’t want to know.” 

 

It’s funny how there’s more people out there now who couldn’t do the whole waiting thing.  I hardly ever get a pat on the back, but sometimes I will and it does help; however, I go through phases where I get so antsy and just want to know what this baby is so I can stop referring to my child as “IT”.  I’d love to rub my belly and talk to this little one by using their name.  I guess that’s the difference between me and Patrick – he can wait, and I can’t.

 

There is an envelope in our house right now that contains a slip of paper with the gender on it.  It was given to us by the ultrasound tech in Ludington after my spill in Meijer’s.  She sealed it, taped it and signed it so that if either of us were to open it, the other would know right away.  I think this is the cruelest form of punishment on the face of the earth.  I hate surprises and this thing is staring me in the face every day.  Some days I swear I think I hear it calling to me.  “Mommmmmmmmmmmmmy…don’t you want to know what color clothes to buy me?”  “Mommmmmmmmmmmy, don’t you want to know what name you’re going to use”.  It’s awful. 

 

Some days I don’t think that December is going to get here fast enough!

Rejuvenation

This past weekend was our 6^th wedding anniversary and to celebrate we spent the weekend at the Inn on Pamlico Sound in Cape Hatteras, NC.  The Inn was the most fantastic place for rest, relaxation, and rejuvenation for us.  We considered it to be our anniversary trip and Babymoon all in one.  (Babymoon is the new term for first time expecting parents to get away.  Clever, I know). 

 

The Inn was right on the water, and our room had a breathtaking view.  We spent the mornings out on the deck, sipping coffee in the hunter green rocking chairs.  It felt as if the world stood still and we were the only occupants.  We had breakfast on the decks outside, served by the Inn staff.  I can already tell that feasting on the homemade muffins and breakfast goodies will cause for an even larger bum, but I don’t care.  The staff and Innkeepers were more than hospitable and did everything in their power to ensure we had no worries while we were there.  At one point, Steve, the owner, walked by Patrick and me as we sat on the couch reading the paper and said, “You guys really need to do something about that stress level.  I’m starting to get worried about you!”

 

The weekend was the perfect way to spend our last few months together as only a couple.  My fantastic husband even ordered up a bottle of Sparkling Cider for us to share to celebrate, since I can’t partake in the consumption of the real stuff.  We spent the evenings in the oversized Jacuzzi tub, complete with candle light provided by Patrick, and lounged around during the day.  I could not think of a better way to spend a weekend with the man that I am completely head over heels in love with.

 

Life is back to reality, and our daily routines will now consist of washing baby clothes, setting up the crib, painting the nursery, and preparing our lives (and our house) for the arrival of this little one.  There is no one on this earth that I would rather be going through this with, and I can’t wait to see what the next lifetime has to offer us.

Unrealistic Expectations

 

Where do I draw the line between what’s realistically expected of my pregnant self, and what’s not?  I have become obsessed with watching shows like “A Baby Story”, “Surviving Motherhood”, “Bringing Home Baby”, and the like.  Nothing would be wrong with that except for the fact that I watch these beautiful women on TV having pain free, or little pain, labors and deliveries – all while their hair is done up and their make-up isn’t running. 

 

I have always had a serious problem with my self image.  Even as a sticklike teenager I could stare at myself in the mirror and see nothing but fat.  Now, as I’m steadily expanding outward, it kills me when people say “OH!  Look at how big you are!” or “I think you got bigger over the weekend!”, and the best one yet “You’re definitely filling out in your face already!”  All things to which I reply “I am pregnant you know”, with an ever so slight roll of the eyes.  I’m just shy of 5 months, and of course my belly is getting bigger, there’s a growing human inside of it…what do they expect?

 

I really have unrealistic expectations of how I should look now, and even worse expectations of what I should look like after delivery.  All of this stems from watching beautiful women like Heidi Klum show up on the red carpet mere days after giving birth.  I guess if I had a personal trainer and chef, I may be able to look like that.  But alas, I will be stuck with my cottage cheese butt until I can find the time to get off it and go to the gym.

 

I really love being pregnant, and as my body changes I am becoming more receptive to the extra weight and elastic waistbands in my clothes.  I just have to realize that I’m not going to make it back into my size 4’s right after birth, and in fact, may never fit into them again.  It’s a chance I’m willing to take to be a mother…as nothing is more rewarding.

Unrealistic Expectations

Where do I draw the line between what’s realistically expected of my pregnant self, and what’s not?  I have become obsessed with watching shows like “A Baby Story”, “Surviving Motherhood”, “Bringing Home Baby”, and the like.  Nothing would be wrong with that except for the fact that I watch these beautiful women on TV having pain free, or little pain, labors and deliveries – all while their hair is done up and their make-up isn’t running. 

 

I have always had a serious problem with my self image.  Even as a sticklike teenager I could stare at myself in the mirror and see nothing but fat.  Now, as I’m steadily expanding outward, it kills me when people say “OH!  Look at how big you are!” or “I think you got bigger over the weekend!”, and the best one yet “You’re definitely filling out in your face already!”  All things to which I reply “I am pregnant you know”, with an ever so slight roll of the eyes.  I’m just shy of 5 months, and of course my belly is getting bigger, there’s a growing human inside of it…what do they expect?

 

I really have unrealistic expectations of how I should look now, and even worse expectations of what I should look like after delivery.  All of this stems from watching beautiful women like Heidi Klum show up on the red carpet mere days after giving birth.  I guess if I had a personal trainer and chef, I may be able to look like that.  But alas, I will be stuck with my cottage cheese butt until I can find the time to get off it and go to the gym.

 

I really love being pregnant, and as my body changes I am becoming more receptive to the extra weight and elastic waistbands in my clothes.  I just have to realize that I’m not going to make it back into my size 4’s right after birth, and in fact, may never fit into them again.  It’s a chance I’m willing to take to be a mother…as nothing is more rewarding.

"The" Day

I’ve kept my spirits up as much as possible today, and I think I’ve done a pretty good job.  Today would have been my due date with our first “angel” bean.  It’s hard to think about even now with this beautiful child moving about my abdomen.  It’s difficult to explain how one feels when they’re happily and safely pregnant with a child after they lost another. 

 

I wonder if that baby was a boy or a girl.  While it makes no difference it would have been nice to know.  I will keep that child in my heart forever, even after the birth of this little one.  Somehow, time flew by and this date came fast, which probably means I’m ill prepared for how quickly December will arrive.  J

 

Angel Bean is in our thoughts today and we’re going out to dinner to celebrate its life as well as the life of the baby growing inside me. 

 

 

Perks

I love, love, love being pregnant. No, seriously...this is the best thing since sliced bread. There aren't enough words to accurately describe how wonderful it feels to know that you have created a HUMAN LIFE and you are charged with keeping it safe while it grows. I have discovered that my own life seems much more bright and much more exciting now that I have this little one to look forward to meeting.

This picture was taken at 10w5d pregnant last month. Not much to show, really, although at the time the picture was taken I felt like the human equivlant to Grimmace from McDonalds. This is only to show my progression and give me something to look forward to going back to.

This picture was taken on Sunday at 14w5d and it finally shows my rounding belly. Up until this point, I really only felt fat. People would stare at me like they KNEW I had eaten too much ice cream and was paying the price. Now, I get a few questionable stares because people just don't want to ask if you ARE pregnant for fear of offending you, but mostly people can recognize that I am pregnant. I love this feeling.

The best perks, besides the glow and the smile that never seems to go away, are the boobs. Yes, I said it. The boobs. These suckers are AWESOME. I keep trying to convince them that even after breastfeeding they should stay around. I tell them that I'll give them a good home and even show them off. What did I ever do without these things. Despite my growing waistline, it's still nice to see how nicely they sit in a VNeck shirt. Nice and perky. Thus, the reason they are one of the great "perks" of pregnancy.

Only a few more months until this little one debuts in our world, sometimes it can't come fast enough.