Two Months

Dear Evelynn,

It's amazing the lessons that can be learned from a tiny baby who has been on this earth for less than 8 weeks. You discovered your reflection recently and cannot stop adoring yourself. You smile and coo at yourself and then crack yourself up. I hope that you can hold on to this confidence. I spent far too much of my young life hating the way that I looked and convinced that I was fat. You are so beautiful and I hope that you are able to see and accept that. Far too much energy is wasted otherwise.

While I was pregnant I heard a celebrity (no clue who) say that having a child is the strangest thing because you are head over heels in love with a complete stranger that you know nothing about. This couldn't be more true. I know some of your personality traits from the womb but we have all been trying to get to know you since you took your first breath. I have been asked a few times "does she usually do that"? I can only blankly stare at them and shrug. I have no idea what you usually do and just when I think I have it figured out you go and change on me. I kind of have your cries figured out. There is the squawking "why aren't you holding me I know that this is a swing I'm not stupid" cry, there is the "I'm starving and you haven't fed me in at least three weeks" cry that usually includes dramatic dove-like coos and then there is the hurt cry. this one includes tears. Some are yours but most are mine. It breaks my heart.

Daddy has taken to sleeping on the couch or in the garage because he gets up so early in the morning so you and I have the master bedroom to ourselves. I feel like we are having mini slumber parties and I cherish our time together. You and I in a king size bed - up every three hours watching infomercials, music videos and nursing. You are such a great sleeper at night. You nurse like clockwork and then I put you on a quilt that is on top of one of those absorbant pads (so as not to ruin our new bedspread) on your side and you go right back to sleep. The 5-6:00 feeding you decide that you need to be held until I have to get up in the morning so I grab you and put the comforter over both of us and we go back to sleepwith you in my arms. This is the reason I have been late to work nearly every day. You are the most cuddly thing on earth. Sorry about the time that I woke up and had drooled all over your head.

The sleeping habits however during the day - that's a whole 'nother story! Not only can we not put you down (you have literally been held for nearly 2 months straight) but you cat nap. When you finally get to sleep I hold my breath and place you in the swing and then sprint around the kitchen frantically trying to cram food in my mouth ... not knowing when I will get to next. I am working on getting better at doing most things with one hand - but this is coming from the girl that wasn't that great at doing most things with two hands! Daddy has pointed out that I should really have you on a schedule by now and I just have to laugh. You are on a schedule - your own! And we're on the same one. I suppose a great sleeper at night is worth a cat napper during the day. At night when you fuss a little bit in your sleep I reach over and put my hand next to you. You put your little fist on top of it and fall back asleep. I want you to know that I will always be here for you. I need you just as much as you need me.

You aren't hard to console at all. You cry and then once you are picked up (or sometimes even as you are being picked up) you stop completely. There have only been a couple of times that you have cried longer than a few minutes. I am so grateful for this.

Even the expensive diapers can't hold your explosions. We go through at least 3 wardrobe changes a day. Even after you have a blow out and I go to change you, somehow you manage to stick your sock in the mess.

I went back to work when you were 5 weeks old and it has been extremely difficult. You are so cute in the mornings! You smile and sigh and your breath smells so sweet and you are so warm and soft. I hate leaving you. I have cried all the way to work more than once. Daddy watches you on Mondays and Tuesdays and Aunt Clara watches you on Wednesdays and Thursdays so thank goodness I haven't had to take you to a stranger or worse yet a daycare at such a young age. But no one is me and I feel guilty for leaving you.

You had your first Christmas and slept through the majority of it. When you weren't sleeping you were very cranky. I think you may have just been overstimulated from all of the excitement. Daddy and I are already talking about how excited we are for next year when you will understand things a little more. I must say that I loved having an excuse to buy Disney Princess Christmas wrapping paper!

Lessons learned include: no one is more fascinating than your daddy, whistling is hilarious, hunger is a very dramatic emotion, a big wet dog snout in your face is nothing to be too concerned about, sleeping through band practice is easy... as well as sleeping through Christmas, when someone holds you for the first time it is best to fill your pants at that moment and you are crazy enough to enjoy mommy's singing. (sorry about the time that you were crying and the only thing I could think of was to hum "Chariots of Fire"... not sure where that came from. )

My life started the day you entered it.

Love, Mommy

Life in circles

My mom passed away when she was 27 years and 3 months old.

I had a baby when I was 27 years, 3 months and 2 days old. Smiles from above arrive in the strangest of packages.

Eat Pray Love

Have I mentioned that I hate pumping? It's completely bovine and a little humiliating. It also leaves you very vulnerable. I had a friend that I looked forward to visiting while I pumped and it made everything seem not so bad afterall. Elizabeth Gilbert's book Eat Pray Love reads like a classic novel and a note passed by a high school friend all at the same time. She is able to write beautiful prose in one paragraph and follow it up with the most up-to-date and perfectly fitted slang.

I bought this book a week before I had Evelynn. I couldn't afford it but grabbed it anyway at Target and convinced myself that $11 spent on myself wasn't completely selfish. I went home and poured myself into the book and was sad when I had to tear myself away to go to sleep. I didn't get back to it for some time. My first day in the hospital I wrote down things that I wanted Brian to bring from home for me. Pillow, new book on nightstand, toothbrush, etc. He forgot the pillow, but I was so thankful that he brought the book. I had trouble reading it while on my left side for so long. I tried to read it while on the morphine drip but realized that I was saying words but nothing had actually sunk in. I was so sad that I couldn't get back into the world that was this book. I knew that it held far-off destinations for me, far away from the hospital that I was so lonely in.

When I got home from the hospital I was a wreck. I was so weepy and scared and could barely walk. This book was my companion to many scary trips to the bathroom to have post c-section bowel movements. It got me through as I clutched the book and the bathroom counter at the same time... praying that the dulcolax would please, please do its job.

When I left it at work once I returned 5 weeks later (yes - it took me over 6 weeks to read a book!) and I remember sitting on the couch that night reminiscing about my old friend. Feeling a little sad.

I think that if I were to meet Ms. Gilbert in real life I would feel so intimidated by her. She is a big city woman with an education and street smarts. After reading this book I'm reminded that we are all human. Even the most intimidating or enviable (is that a word?) characters have had moments where they were weeping on their bathroom floors.

I'm reminded of all of the ways that we can "feed" our souls. Food, prayer, love, friendship, charity, conversation, journaling, sex, travel, nature... just to name a few. How quickly we lose sight of these small servings of soul-nourishment. It seems that we are so quick to claim that we are just plain unhappy in life when really it's because we're standing in a river and dying of thirst. I recommend that you read this book... and drink up!

I'm an Emotional Boob

Who knew that a woman's breasts are directly tied to her heart strings? It seems that so many of my emotions lately are linked to my chest - but not my heart... my boobs!

Emotion one: Helplessness and Sadness
"Breastfeeding is the most natural thing on earth" True, but don't let this statement fool you like it did me. This does not mean that breastfeeding is instinct for either you or your baby. I honestly and truly thought that Evelynn would be born, placed on my chest and then would start suckling as soon as I put her to my breast. I will hold for a moment while the women reading who have breastfed compose themselves and are able to stop laughing. This is a complete learned behavior for both you and your baby. I remember awkwardly trying to put my daughter to my breast and somehow holding her so that she was nearly upside down trying to drink. Looking back I'm not quite sure how I did this - perhaps it was the morphine drip. I remember trying to get her to latch and sitting there bawling because she wouldn't. I had a small vile of sugar water that I would put on my nipple and her lip and then hold my breath and pray that it would work. I literally rang for a nurse nearly each time I fed her to help me get her to latch. I was felt up more times in those five days than all of high school!

Emotion two: Anger
I am very disappointed and angry with my left breast. He has let me down when I needed him most. Not only is he inverted but refuses to produce much. I fear that this generation of lefty's may be going downhill as demonstrated in a recent hippie kate post. I have become very exhasperated with him a few times and have given up and turned to trusty righty. She is female as she steps in and understands the importance of cooperating... even a little bit.

Emotion three: Exhaustion
Two words: Cluster Feeding. This is when your daughter enters a growth spurt and suddenly becomes an insatiable vulture and eats all.the.time. Every time you finally hand her off to a family member and think that you may be able to ... oh I don't know... pee, she decides that she hasn't been fed all day and begins rooting on her daddy with the urgency of a fasting fat girl. No pun intended when I say that I have never felt so drained. And all I did was sit for days at a time. The worst part is that while sitting you are able to look around and take note of everything that needs to be done around the house. Note to self: plant is dying and needs to be watered, dog needs to be fed, mommy is in desperate need of a shower.

Emotion four: Pain
A woman's milk "letting down" sounds simple enough right? Letting down is not the right word. It's more of gushing forth with the momentum of a ford powerstroke. One moment you're fine, the next your breasts are heavier than Dolly Parton's. Going too long without pumping or feeding seriously makes you wish that your breasts would literally pop and put you out of your misery. As we speak I am suffering from my first case of clogged ducts. I can barely move my arm I am in so much pain.

Emotion five: Humility
A girl hasn't lived until she has tried to pull out her boob under a blanket while in public. I get so scared of flashing someone that I usually break out into a sweat and work myself up into a panic at the mere thought of it. I was extremely lonely to be standing in the bathroom of the JCPenney bathroom while breastfeeding and listening to a lady have a bowel movement. And taping a note onto the conference room door of your work three times a day that says "Do not disturb, pumping in progress" Classy.

Emotion six: Hurt
As in butt hurt. Hurt feelings. Feelings of inadequacy that are not justified. As in today when righty is clogged, my feelings are literally hurt by this. I feel like I have been foresaken. I am literally sad and hurt.

Emotion seven: Hunger
I am hungrier than I ever was while pregnant.

Emotion eight: Pride
I told myself and others while I was pregnant that I would try to breastfeed as long as I could. I didn't want to make any promises. What if I hated it? What if I wasn't capable? Turns out I am. And this makes me so proud. I want to put an inspirational sticker on my shirt like the ones teachers gave out in elementary school ("nice job" "cool kid" "dino-mite") and strut in my lactation greatness. I am so, so unbelievably proud of every one of her dirty diapers. This means that I am single-handedly providing all of the nutrients that she needs. My daughter poops up to 7-8 times a day... put that on your bumper sticker.

Emotion nine: Complete, utter unconditional bliss and unwavering love
Yes, I wasn't sure that I would like breastfeeding. Would it be weird? What if it felt a little too good (like when you climb the ropes in gym class)? Am I really ok with carrying my milk in a tote on my shoulder? Turns out the answer is a resounding yes! I have never felt more complete and wonderful than looking into my daughters eyes as she noisily swallows. The first time that she stroked my side with her little hand while feeding I was so happy. I love gently stroking the side of her face and the look that she gets when she finally unlatches and throws her head back and smiles. Nothing else matters during that time. Not the clock, the fact that you are running late, your messy house, your clogged ducts... nothing. Life is as God intended it and I realize what amazing creatures we really are.

Birth Story

Being a new mom feels like you're Bambi just learning to walk on ice + a ton of adrenaline, horomones, a C-section incision and feelings you just never knew existed. I can say that those that type out a "birth plan" had better be pretty leniant and understanding because not one thing went as I had expected. You may have a plan but the universe and the baby have a far different one!

I had wanted to stay at home and labor for as long as possible and then go to the hospital when I was having contractions about 3-5 minutes apart lasting at least 1 minute. Brian tested out the timer on his cell phone. I would bake cookies for the nurses, take a shower and put my hair in two french braids so that it wouldn't get in the way during the labor process.

Fast forward to my weekly app't on Wednesday the 24th. I had gained 6 lbs and my blood pressure seemed a bit high. The doctor had trouble finding the baby's heartbeat so she had a quick ultrasound done. This showed that my amniotic fluid was low. They want it over a 12 and mine was at an 8. The doctors worry when it's at a 5. They had me come back a couple of hours later to do a non stress test. I was irritated because this meant that I would miss more work but went to my in-laws house so that I wouldn't have to drive back into town. They hooked me up to a fetal monitor and had me push a button when she kicked. Her movement and heartbeat were down (128) so they had me come in the next morning for an ultrasound.

Thursday morning I went in and my amniotic level was at a 13. The baby probably just needed to pee. Her activity was way up and her heartbeat was at a 158. I went to work.

Friday I was increasingly irritated that I had to drive all the way to Prescott just to get my blood pressure retaken. Couldn't I go to a grocery store or the fire dept or something? I didn't want to miss more work. I had convinced myself that any work I missed cut into my paid time with Evelynn and it broke my heart. I dropped off Oakley with my mother in law and had some coffee and pumpkin bread and then went to the doctor's. I gained 4 more lbs from Wednesday and my blood pressure was up. I also had traces of protein in my urine. They had me wait in the waiting room. I was wondering if they would induce me. I pictured that they would call and set up an appointment within the next few days and I would have so much time to prepare! The nurse practitioner came in and told me that I needed to go directly across the street to get a Toxemia test and get monitored and induced. She said "Happy Birthday" and sent me on my way. My eyes must have been saucers. I was in complete shock.

I drove by Meagan's house, she wasn't there. I called information for the brewery and told Brian to go home and get the hospital bag and meet me at the hospital. He was probably more shocked than I was. I called my sister - no answer, called her at work - no answer. I did this at least 5 times. It took forever to find a parking spot and then Clara called back. I filled her in quickly and she said that she would try to get out of town that day. I called my mother in law and she couldn't believe it either. I could hear Oakley in the background saying "what?!?" As I was walking in to the hospital I realized that I hadn't called work! I called and told them that I wouldn't be in because I'm having a baby today! (the today part was very naive of me).

I walked in and glanced at the clock, 9:50 am on Friday the 26th. A full moon. I rode up the elevator with a very anxious man with a ton of batteries, a video camera and a camera. His wife was in labor. I walked to the front desk and the woman was expecting me. She took me to a large room with a hospital bed, bathroom and rocking chair. She gave me a hospital gown and a cup to pee in (story of a pregnant girl's life... peeing in a cup). A nurse came in and said that they were going to draw my blood to check for toxemia and I told her that I was also here to be induced. Her face dropped and she said "we don't have enough staff!". I guess that they were understaffed on top of the fact that there were a ton of women already in active labor. I asked her if she wanted to call my doctor's office to verify and she said no but said that I would be a lower priority than the women in labor (duh...) She put me in the bed and strapped me to the monitors and then asked health info, etc. She asked if I had been nauseaus and I told her that I had been throwing up at least twice a day for about a week and a half. She asked if I had a headache and I told her that for three days I had one so bad that my teeth hurt. (these are both tell-tale signs of preeclampsia also) She took my blood pressure and told me to lay on my left side to try and bring it down. I ended up having to lay on my left side, nine months pregnant for 19 hours. My hips were killing me. Brian showed up like two hours later. I can only imagine that he must have been so shocked that he didn't quite know what to do with himself. I started to get phone calls from people and realized that he had called every person on his cell phone! He finally showed up and was very stir crazy. He's not the most patient of people and I don't think that there is any man on earth that is comfortable visiting his wife in the hospital. The nurses came and went checking my blood pressure. My doctor went out of town (ironically right after I checked in to the hospital - but we'll get to that in a second) so I was going to be seen by her fill in Dr Linn. I hadn't eaten all day and finally they got the ok from the doctor for me to eat something light at 4 pm. I ordered a salad, ginger ale and a ham and cheese crossaint. I kept asking when I was going to be induced. They said that they couldn't start giving me (I think it was cytotec but I'm not sure) until I had my own nurse. This didn't happen until 8:00 that night. So the first 10 hours were all for naught. I was very disheartened but anxious to get the show on the road.

My nurse came in and started my IV. So many women say that this is the worst part - and it sucked, it sucked bad. But I was so grateful to have some sort of progress that I handled it better than I would have in any other situation. Then she told me that she would need to start me on Magnesium and that it would make me not feel very well. This is the understatement of the century. That stuff is pure evil. It made me feel worse than I have felt in a long time. She inserted the first round of the vaginal pill. Ironically, the pill causes contractions while the magnesium is a muscle relaxer...

Brian had gone home to get some shut eye and I told him that I would call when there was progress. At midnight the nurse came back and gave me another dose. The doctor was at the hospital for another delivery and did an internal. It hurt so bad. I He tried to dialate me a little further and it absolutely killed. No change. Brian came back around 3:00 am. I was supposed to get another dose at 4:00 am but there wasn't a nurse available to give it to me. At this point I hadn't slept and was so discouraged I just cried and cried. I didn't get the other dose until 5:30 so this put us another hour and a half behind. I got another pill at 9:30 that morning. This whole time I was on the magnesium and only allowed a clear liquid diet. I was pretty miserable. That night the nurse had brought in a portable potty for me to use next to the bed since I was hooked up to so many wires. Around midnight or so she talked me into a catheter and I am so glad that she did. They were giving me diuretics to try to get rid of some of my water weight and I would have been miserable getting in and out of bed that many times. I was set to get put on Pitocin at 1:30 and I was so anxious to get things going. At this point I was 75% effaced and 2 cm dialated. At 1:45 I shifted and my water broke. I was ecstatic! This happened without the Pitocin! I felt like I had done something on my own and had progressed - - without the dumb nurses. I called Brian and he came back. They started the Pitocin and the contractions started. They were getting to be about 4 minutes apart and fairly difficult. The doctor told me to let them know when they were very painful and they would start the epidural sooner rather than later because they didn't want my blood pressure to go up higher during delivery. At about 5:30 the nurses switched shifts. I was holding on to the rails during contractions and still on my left side. Things got strangely quiet and I didn't really know what was going on. The new nurse gave me oxygen and told me to breathe that. I guess that my blood pressure had suddenly gone through the roof and my lips had started to turn blue. I don't remember exactly what was said but the nurse quietly told me that they had called the doctor and he was on his way down to talk to me about what they were going to do next. I remember asking her if they were going to do a C-section and she said that more than likely yes. I couldn't believe it. I called and my sister had just got into town and I told her to come right away. My mother in law, Heather and sister were in the room when the doctor came in and told me that because my blood pressure was so high and I wasn't progressing that they thought it was best to do a C-section. I got very upset because I was already in labor (somewhat) and I thought that I would have to labor for a long time before they got everyone together for the surgery. I asked how long it would be. He said a half hour. I couldn't believe it.

The nurse handed Brian a stack of scrubs and told him to change for the procedure. He was white as a sheet. When he came out of the bathroom his face was tear stained.

They started to wheel my bed out the door in no time. I had to laugh when they rammed the bed into the door frame over and over a few times. Figures.

I've never had a surgery, never broken a bone and have never had a cavity filled. I always thought that in this situation I would lose it. I was strangely calm... almost to the point that I scared myself a little. The operating room seemed like the inside of a space ship to me. The lights were glaring down on me and it was so chilly and sterile in there. They lifted me from my bed and on to a small table and tied my feet down. Then they covered me with warmed blankets. It felt wonderful not only to be on my back and not my side but to be comforted by the blankets. They had me sit up to get my spinal. I thought back to online friend's stories of what an epidural felt like and took heart in those descriptions. A nurse wearing an operating mask so I could only see her eyes put her arm around me and I layed on her shoulder. I realized after a bit that I was grasping onto her back-arm fat! haha. She kept me so calm. The numbing shots felt like little bee stings and I didn't really feel the spinal. They told me to lay and that I should start to feel strange. My lower body was supposed to go completely numb. This never happened. I could move my toes and feel my legs. They put up the sheet and I told them that I could still feel. They poked me on the belly and asked me if I felt sharp or pressure. A couple of times it was just pressure but other times it felt like the tip of a knife. I started to panic. The pressure felt scary enough. The sharp was petrifying! My face was so itchy this whole time.The doctors were telling stories about a new piano and some were telling dirty jokes. I kept thinking what if I could feel them cut me? At that time I saw the anesthesiologist over me and he said that he was going to put me to sleep for a little bit. I thought that he meant until the spinal kicked in. He put a mask over my face. The next thing I knew I woke up to pressure in my abdomen and thought that the surgery had started. Then I could hear and feel them stapling. I asked if they had started and the doctor said they were done. Evelynn was born at 6:34. I went in for surgery at about 6.

I couldn't believe it! I felt complete desperation to see my baby. I asked them how she was, if she was ok, how big she was, if she had a lot of hair. I was slurring the questions and getting little response. I was so sad. Then they wheeled me to another room with two people. I guess this was recovery. I don't remember much other than them putting me on my side to get the spinal out. They said something about my tattoo and I was trying (unsuccessfully) to tell them the story behind it. They wheeled me out of there and down a hallway. It was like a dream. I saw a couple of the nurses that I had during their shifts the day before and waved. I saw my sister, mother in law, Meagan, Brian and Heather and waved. Then they wheeled me into the hospital room. I asked everyone what she looked like and they said she was perfect. I asked Clara if she had taken pictures and she was reluctant to show me because that would be my first glimpse of my daughter. I just said that it was better than nothing. It was like seeing someone I had loved all my life, maybe even longer. The nurses wheeled her in and Brian put her in my arms. I've never felt more wonderful in my life. Nothing else mattered.

The cure for preeclampsia is delivery but 2% of the time that doesn't happen. I fell in to that 2%. For the next 5 days Evelynn and I were in the hospital. Those were some of the scariest and loneliest moments of my life. I was hooked up to so many things that I just held her. I didn't sleep much and coudn't eat for a few days. The nurses came and went to take my blood pressure and each time it was high I would just cry because I knew that it could mean yet another day in the hospital. The doctor had me get up to walk one day and I thought that if I did a great job I might get sent home. The first time I tried I sat up and nearly passed out. I broke out into a sweat and wanted to rip my clothes off. The second time I did better and the nurse helped walk me out of the room. I practically ran because I wanted to do such a good job so that I could go home. I was desperate. I cried to so many strangers it's not even funny. On top of being exhausted, drugged, post partum and post surgery I was holed up in a hospital room. Finally on Halloween I was discharged.

I've said a million times that you really don't know how you will handle a situation until you are in it. This couldn't be more true of my delivery story. My biggest fear was a C-section. Apparently I woke up during the surgery and was fighting the nurse and two nurses had to hold down my arms. That surprises me about myself. I found that I was stronger and more stubborn than I ever knew. I also found out that in moments of loneliness I am a bigger baby than I knew.

I still have to monitor my blood pressure at home and take blood pressure medication. Also, it took a while for my ankles and calves to stop swelling. I had forgotten how tiny my feet and ankles actually were.

Once home I started to feel more and more human every minute. I had so much wonderful help. Evelynn was worth every second of everything that I went through. She is a wonderful baby and the love of my life. I can't get through a grocery store or mall without being stopped over and over to be told how beautiful she is. She is my greatest accomplishment and the one time that Brian and I did something together that turned out perfect!

One Month

Dear Evelynn,

Today you are one month old. Part of me can't believe that you're here or that you're mine. You are so beautiful and such a good baby... minus the dramatics! Everything you do is done in complete Scarlet O'Hara style! I find myself laughing at you all of the time. Yesterday you started smiling when we smiled at you. I live for this smile. You have a dimple on your right cheek and your chin. I want to dive in them!

When I woke up from the C-section I thought that it hadn't even started yet. I heard them stapling me shut and tried to ask questions about you but the doctors were too busy to answer very well. In recovery I tried to find out more about you but I was pretty out of it. I didn't see you for two hours after your birth. It was the most desperate feeling in the world. Perhaps this is why I haven't been able to put you down since. Remember this if (ok when) I am completely overbearing. I never knew that this kind of love was possible. It scared me a few times in the beginning and I wept at the thought of anything ever happening to you. It's amazing that something so small can completely turn a world on its axis.

I'm not sure what I did right to deserve such a wonderful, gorgeous, well-mannered baby but if I never do anything right again I always have you. Everyone comments on how pretty you are and I can only answer with "I know!". You look like a little Anne Geddes baby.

You still can't wear most of the clothes in your closet because you are so teeny. I can see your cheeks filling out every day and I can't wait for you to get thigh rolls! I daydream about the day that you will do so many firsts and I can't wait - and then in the same breath I dread that you will grow up at all.

I will try to write to you monthly. You change daily and I find that I do too. I am a mommy. I always wanted a daughter. I made a wish and you came true!

Love,

Your mommy

disclaimer: I have completely ripped off the monthly newsletter idea from my favorite blog dooce.com

Evelynn Rae

Born 10/27/07

6:34 pm

6 lbs 0 oz

18 1/2 inches

When you say nothing at all ~

I've been thinking lately of those awkward moments when someone is hurting and you would do anything to make it stop. As you grasp for the right words to say all that comes to mind are cliches - which you want to make seem heart felt. People mean well, but can say the stupidest things.

Take miscarriages for instance. "It just wasn't right, it's God's way, It'll happen for you, you can always try again". What's the right thing to say?

I sat between two beautiful, smart, amazing women while waiting for a table one night. I was slouched down with my hand on my stomach feeling the baby kick while they talked about giving themselves horomone shots in their stomach. I held my breath to keep from crying. I wanted to tell them how brave I think they are, how deserving they are - but I didn't say much. There have been many times that I have felt undeserving of my pregnancy. There are so many other women that have tried so hard. I got pregnant the first month of trying. I honestly just don't get it. My heart aches for couples with fertility problems.

A coworker of mine lost her little girl to brain cancer. She had people tell her "well - at least you have other children, she's in a better place..."

When I was attacked by a man that had climbed through my windown I had people say "well - at least he didn't actually rape you, at least you weren't hurt". Yes - this is true, but sexual predators enjoy the humiliation of their crime. Not the sex or the pain inflicted.

I have made the decision to stop trying to grasp for just the right thing to say. Nothing that I can say is going to take away their pain or suddenly make them feel better. They know that if they need anything I am here. They know that if they need to talk I am here. They know that I am sorry. I am not some wise woman that is going to make the earth quake with my amazing advice. I will say that I am sorry - give them a hug. And to quote Keith Whitley - You say it best, when you say nothing at all.

I don't rule.

I have officially moved from damn uncomfortable to pretty miserable. I didn't sleep at all last night due to my swollen, tender legs and needing to pee. I woke up with bags under my eyes like I've never seen before (and I'm sure will see again once the baby is here) and went to the restroom. I stood up and nearly dropped to my knees. It felt like someone had kicked me in the crotch. I went from leaning back when I walked to leaning over like an old woman. I showed up at work 10 minutes late with wet hair, no make up and shuffling very slow.

My appointment was at 10:15. As I drove this is what I imagined....

I arrive to the doctor, pee in a cup (one of those satisfactory pees, not a pregnant "are you kidding me... I had to go so bad and that's it?!" pees). They call me back right away and my weight and blood pressure are fine. Actually for the first time ever I didn't even think about the scale until I was nearly to the doctor's office. The doctor does the exam and her eyes get very big - I'm ____ cm dialted! (I leave that blank because I don't know exactly what would warrant this wonderful reaction from my doctor). She then tells me that I'm nearly ready and need to get to the hospital stat! She can't believe how far I've progressed. I must be really great at labor and child birth! I then imagined the phone calls to Brian and others and try to think of the best way to get my hospital bag to the hospital. I picture frantic people while I calmly go across the street to the hospital and check myself in with a smug smile because I well - I obviously Rule!

What actually happened:

I arrive to the doctor and check in and have a $71 balance. I post date a check for Friday and can tell that the receptionist is a little irritated. I go to pee and hardly anything comes out. I get a little on my hand because of the China swelling. I sit in the waiting room and make friends with the lady next to me (I do this a lot... ). Come to find out her app't is at 10 and mine is at 10:15. It is after 11 before I am called back. I gained 3 lbs and my blood pressure is fine. The nurse is concerned by my appearance and checks me for a fever - a sign that you might look as crappy as you feel! I undress from the waist down and wait, and wait, and finally the doctor comes in. She has a hard time finding the heart beat because Evelynn kicks the doppler and keeps avoiding it (she is SO going to be a little stinker!!!). The doctor looks exhausted and keeps trailing off in the middle of sentences. She tells me that her father is in bad health and that she will have a doctor filling in for her deliveries for a few days. Ok - yeah, whatever... please stick your arm in me. She does and says that there isn't a change. But, she didn't even seem to check much - it was a very half-assed internal. She tells me that she really wants to go to bed. Ok - yeah... can we try that again? I have to pry to make sure that everything is exactly the same. So I'm 50% effaced? Yes. And a fingertip dialated? Yes, I couldn't even feel her head. And her head's at a -1? Yes. I ask her if she thinks I'll go early and she says we should know more next week. Then she walks out! She left my chart and I totally tried to go through it to see if she wrote that I was a crappy patient or anything but I didn't find anything juicy. She didn't even leave me a wipey and a panty liner. Just left.

I walked out feeling deflated. I don't rule. I'm not in labor and still working 40 hours a day and putting up with my husband. I haven't progressed in seven whole days! I call two girlfriends - one that is pregnant and the other that has a 12 month old and tell them what a failure I am. I then went to Sonic and got a burger (which was yucky) a large tater tot (my serious craving) and a watermelon diet coke. This made me feel a little better.

I better kick ass at the next app't. I have decided I may even try to seduce my husband. I'm quite irresistable right now! However... if I can't sleep comfortably how in the hell am I going to do anything else remotely comfortably? Comments gladly accepted - with diagrams please. Please also use stick figures because then I'll appear skinny.

A picture of Evelynn's Delivery

I still may need the epidural.

And the award goes to....

Me! On today for the largest and most dramatic hormonal breakdown. I actually left myself completely exhausted after this one.
I haven't had too many breakdowns in the second and third trimester. In the first trimester I once cried for 20 minutes because Brian sneezed on my arm. In the second trimester I would get a little teary-eyed now and then but the times that Brian had to hand me a paper towel and the phone to call my sister were quite minimal.
Today we needed to go and pick up the stroller, car seat and extra car seat base (plus a couple other things I threw on the credit card and didn't tell Brian about) from WalMart's site to store. I don't know about stores outside of my area but this concept at our Prescott Supercenter is so foreign to the employees it's ridiculous. I actually got lectured today for not bringing in my email or order number. Last time I brought both and was told that I didn't need them. All of this lecturing occured before she even tried to pull things up by my last name! Of course she found it and carted everything out to our car. She told me all about her adult kids and what they were up to and asked when I was due. Blah, blah, blah. Brian ditched me to pull the car around. Lucky bastard.
So then we went to Kmart to get curtain rods (for the super cute sheer embroidered curtains that I also purchased) - oh and hot dog buns for his football watching today. I had asked him all morning long what time he intended to go to his buddy's house. Turns out I was dropping him off then and there. This didn't bother me but the fact that he had known and just chosen not to answer my questions is one thing that I just don't get! He does this to me all of the time and then accuses me of being nosey, too talkative, etc. Just answer my question! So I yelled and nagged all the way across the parking lot (we had parked at the garden center and left at the other exit). A couple of times I imagined beating him with the curtain rod (perhaps this is when the horomones really started to kick in...). Across the entire parking lot nag, nag, nag... bitch, bitch, bitch all while waving a curtain rod and waddling. By the time I climbed into my father in law's jeep (borrowed for picking up the goods) I looked at him and said oh so sweetly "you should poor your drink into my McDonald's cup so you can drink it with ice and a straw - it will taste better". He was like "weren't you just yelling at me?" I ignored him. Then I tried to put on my seatbelt. I would pull to link it and it wouldn't budge. Pull, nothing. Let it go - pull, nothing. I started to feel myself get really hot. At this point I looked up to see Brian checking out this girl (who I admit was actually quite hot) and I lost it. I cried so hard that I literally couldn't breathe. I stopped breathing. When I could breathe I gasped the words "and I can't get my seatbelt to work". Brian slowed down so that I could open the door because I had apparently closed the door on the seatbelt. This somehow added fuel. It broke my heart and I cried harder and harder. Then I laughed - hysterically, and broke back into tears.
This lasted for approximately five miles until my very wise husband distracted me by pointing out nice houses and ugly houses. This is one of our favorite past times. I like that tree, oh look at those shutters, I would be pissed if those were my neighbors... and so on.
And - other than my sheer exhaustion and lack of mascara and dignity - it was like nothing happened.
I'd like to thank my horomones, without them this momentous occasion would not have been possible. I would also like to thank my husband for being an ass and amazing all in one and last of all I would like to thank God... for blessing me with this experience. It's been a wild one, but I am one of the luckiest girls in the world.

Hump day takes on a different meaning -

As in that's what got me here and that's about it. My appointments are now every Wednesday morning until I deliver.

I went in this morning and I'm up 22 lbs total. The NP said that there is at least 5 lbs of water in my feet and calves. A part of me wanted that in writing. Blood pressure is good and baby's heart rate is good. She did the Strep B test and then an internal. As of last week Evelynn had moved head down, centered and low.

This week I'm 50% effaced, a finger nail dialated and her head is at a -1. I was shocked because I haven't noticed and braxton hicks contractions (maybe a couple but that's it). The doctor said that I have obviously been having plenty and must have a high pain tolerance. Ha! God I wish this were true - however I'm pretty damn sure it's not. I always remember Daffy Duck on Looney Tunes saying "I'm not good with pain - it hurts me!"

I feel like the gears are grinding and beginning to turn, what a strange feeling that anytime between now and mid-November will be my daughter's birthday...

I will sign off now and get back to the jar of peanut butter on my desk with the plastic spoon. Snack of champions!

It's tearing up my heart -

No matter what I eat for dinner it equals killer heartburn. I say this knowing that there is not heartburn that is not killer. I have always had a stomach of steel and this is honestly the first time that I've even experienced heartburn and I have so much sympathy for those that suffer all of the time! I had no clue that life could be that miserable. It has brought on puking, insomnia, sweats, diarrhea, excessive burping and farting and much more. If my husband was afraid to sleep with me before because of the baby he has a whole list of reasons these days!

I guess this is the time of the pregnancy that miserable symptoms outweigh the fear of delivery. Add to that the excitement of meeting your baby I can see why women say that they are ready for it to be over. I'm not quite there yet as I still have a list of reasons why I'd rather suffer from heartburn than push something ginormous out of me that I've never met and then take it home and care for it - not knowing how to do so. Give me a few weeks and I'm sure I will be more than ready to take on whatever I need to in order to walk regular again, eat food without washing it down with Tums, gingerale and Maalox and go more than an hour without needing to pee.

Lately I have had the strangest feelings come over me. I realize that pregnancy makes us super emotional - but up until now they have all been emotions I can name. Happy, cranky, psycho, constipated, etc. This one doesn't have a name.

I am in baby limbo. I've started to do her laundry (which resulted in a complete melt down when I realized that I don't know how to fold baby clothes) and I've started to pack a hospital bag, but there's only so much I can do. Perhaps this is the calm before the storm. And by storm I mean the calm before crazy nesting sets in. I am tired, but restless and have a constant choke in my throat but I'm not sure if I'm going to laugh or cry. It's that feeling when someone comes up behind you and grabs your ribs - you don't know if you want to laugh, smack them, run, jump or cry but you are ready to react and usually don't.

Some women have Restless Leg Syndrome during the latter part of their pregnancy. I have restless arm syndrome. I have to shake them out a few times before I can fall asleep. They want to be doing something and that something doesn't exist yet. A lot of times it's as if they are causing me to fall. I love it when Evelynn shows up in my dreams - but usually my dreams last all night and are completely jumbled and confusing. I used to have dreams that I had a baby and would care for it all night. The next day my arms would be so heavy because they longed for the weight of the baby - perhaps my whole body is now on alert for her arrival.

Speaking of arrival I think that we should start guessing Evie's b-day. I'm due on November 10th but anything after October 14th is full term. Leave a comment or email me your guess.

My guess is October 25th.

Being 34 weeks pregnant is having vivid dreams of holding and feeding my baby girl, waking up to pee for the 6th time and then praying that she shows back up as I fall back asleep.

My bump, my bump - my lovely baby bump!

Weekly Irrational Fears

Since the moment I found out that I was pregnant I have been plagued by what I refer to as "weekly irrational fears" Some are far more silly than others but I've been told that the constant worrying doesn't go away once the baby gets here. No wonder mothers seem so crazy!

The first fear is miscarriage. I went through the phone calls in my mind where I would have to call up people and say "never mind - we're not expecting anymore". Never before have you examined toilet paper after you wipe so closely.

Then you worry about stretch marks, your husband finding you attractive, the scale hitting proposterous numbers and so on.

This was followed by SIDS, Downs, Autism and any other disease that you hear about. I had to veto shows like "Babies: Special Delivery" and "Diagnosis X".

I was stuck on the fear of pooping during labor for a while and then I watched a Baby Story where the woman in labor freaked out and started making the strangest noises. I was so scared that I was going to "make an ass of myself" during labor. I even asked my Aunt (who I hadn't talked to in a couple of years) who's an OB nurse if she's ever embarrassed for the women in labor. She said no so I felt a little better.

Other fears have included:
1. Evelynn loving her dad more than me.
2. Dropping the baby
3. Post partum depression
4. Having an anxiety attack during labor
5. The epidural needle hitting my spine and paralyzing me.
6. Brian dying and leaving me alone to raise the baby.
7. My boobs haven't started leaking yet, this means that my milk won't come in and I will be looked down upon by other mommies. I even squeezed my boobs to see if anything would come out. Not a very proud moment.
8. Falling off of the counter while watering my plants on top of my kitchen cupboards (Brian's been given this job)
9. Not feeling connected to the baby.
10. Not being ready to be a mother.
11. A C-Section.
12. That she'll hate her name.
13. Pedophiles
14. The way teen girls dress these days.
15. That she won't be cute and I will be oblivious while others talk about how not cute my baby is.
16. That Brian and I will suddenly hate eachother and I will end up divorced and Evelynn will say "my parents split when I was very young".

And many more.

I would love to say that this is a new thing with pregnancy. But I have had strange irrational fears all my life. I can't shower without looking out the shower curtain every few moments to make sure that no one is watching me. When I shampoo my hair I have to have one eye open at all times. This way if I can keep checking outside the shower curtain and if I get soap in that eye I can use the other one. I hate being in places where I can't breathe well - saunas, convertibles, tanning booths, Phoenix. I am petrified of statues because they seem like they are soul-less beings. I have to touch something before I touch a light switch or appliance for fear of electrocution.

I will sign off before two men run in with a straight jacket from the asylum.

3D Ultrasound

This was seriously an awesome experience. And, as I figured, my baby has a little attitude. Once again she had her hand over her face and at one point she stuck out her tongue! I am in love though. She is so cherub-like and sweet. I am so glad that they waited to do it until she had some body fat on her - any younger and they look really creepy (or creepier depending on if you think that these ones are creepy... which, many do and that's ok).

The crankiness comes and goes but I am not miserable. On days like today I just love my live (despite my crappy job) and I love my family. I am a very lucky girl. I have a healthy baby in me and a wonderful stepson, a pain in the ass husband and a great dog! Honestly add to this an excuse to eat hamburgers and lay with my feet elevated who could ask for more?

Cranky Thy Name is Me

I have officially started the "maybe this isn't so much fun" part of my third trimester. Which - is to be followed by the "I hate the world" and then "I am going to reach out and get this kid out myself if it doesn't come soon" part of the third trimester.

First off - I'm pretty sure that my doctor's office has stock in the lab. They sent me to get 6 vials of blood drawn and two urine samples taken in a matter of a week and a half. Even though my glucose test was fine they said that the second draw was one point high so I have to follow the gestational diabetes diet which has me eating seven, yes seven, times a day. And not fun things like cake and hamburgers. String cheese, boiled eggs, etc. I am sick of chewing. On top of that I'm anemic and have to take Iron pills twice a day (on top of all the other prenatals and fish oils) that make me sick.

I have never had trouble sleeping. Ever. If anything I have trouble waking and staying awake. Now even though I'm exhausted I lay there with my eyes wide open. Every time I need to change positions I grunt and exhale as if I were performing a task for the Olympics.

The other night my ankles were so swollen that I had to laugh out loud. I had never seen one of my body parts in such an unknown position. About an inch up my leg was literally rolled over and touching the top of my foot. Not unlike an elephant's foot. Not even cankles. Just thigh - followed directly by swollen toes.

My anger goes from zero to 800 in no time at all. I boil over anything (but mostly nearly everything my husband says or does) I'm pretty sure that he's expecting my head to begin spinning around any time now.

Yes - I'm cranky but I'm also still elated. The baby is moving so much that my whole belly moves. I just lay there and watch her. I get to have my 3d ultrasound on the 6th of September so I get to see her little face. I read that she recognizes my voice (now if it were saying more than just cuss words!) I feel like I know her a little bit and that we share our own secrets. She is so close to me right now and I love it. I drum on my belly for her and sing country songs loudly. I stare at every little girl that I see these days and wonder what mine will be like. It's like I'm cranky outwards but completely dreamy inwards.

Despite being uncomfortable and waddling and breathing heavy I consider myself truly blessed.

Book Reviews

I read a ton of books and have decided to start talking about them on my blog - if not for anything else but for me to keep track of what I read and what I liked or disliked! (gotta love pregnancy brain)

Ignore the Search Inside logos - obviously I stole the cover shots from Amazon.com!

First of all - I love me some T.C. Boyle (or T.Coraghessan Boyle as his friends call him). One of the few authors that I check out the jacket cover picture more than once while reading his book. He looks like a more intense Gene Wilder in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and loves to pose in his vests and disheveled hair. I have read his collection of short stories and Tortilla Curtain. What strikes me as most interesting about his stories is that he points out a million ironies - without making a personal statement. Tortilla Curtain was about illegal Mexican Immigrants but you still wouldn't know if he was for or against border control. Drop City was about a hippie compound and a "mountain man" in Alaska and how their paths meet. He is by far the king of comparison and contrast and his books really make you think.

This book really hit home for me. I'm at a point in my life where I am beginning to think a little less liberal than I once did. I was a self-proclaimed hippie but now realize that it is a title that many hide behind. Like musician. Many musicians aren't musicians, they are people that don't want to work and would like to drink all day and have sex with random girls/guys. Many people (ahem Oakley's mother) claim to be hippies when really they're just lazy and can't handle being held accountable for their actions. They choose not to work at certain places or to live near that mountains for their "energy" when really they need to get their asses out of the woods and into the nearest Denny's to support their free love children. Also, they can't be choosey about where they live. And, even if you are picky about where you live... then why in the hell would you choose not to keep it clean? Isn't clutter bad for your CHI? And - this is the one that really gets me... if you're so anti-establishment how DARE you accept public assistance! The 17-year old Nisha would not have said these things.

The book makes you compare and consider -

- prostitution vs. free love vs. using your body and looks to get what you want

- living off the land vs. ruining the land

- vegetarians vs. meat eaters vs. fur trappers (and killing bugs vs. animals)

- revenge

- using ideals as they were meant vs for your own personal gain

- views of a woman's role in the world

And a whole lot more. And you're not spoon fed, not at all. He is subtle and you are constantly stopping to think.

Augusten Burroughs, how I love thee! I poured over Running with Scissors and Dry but have to admit that I really loved Magical Thinking. There were parts of Running w/ Scissors that made me cringe and perhaps Dry hit a little too close to home and my years of drinking profusely. Magical Thinking was very David Sedaris like (who I adore and would love to have lunch with someday. Picture it: Me, him, Stevie - a buffet! That's heaven right there is what it is). The only difference is he's a tad darker than Sedaris, which is ok by me. I do have to admit to skipping over one of the stories becaue it was about killing a rat thing and it made me too sad. I feel like I can hear the collective groans but I couldn't handle to think of him being sprayed with roach spray, helpless in a bathtub.

I also feel like I need to say that anyone that saw the movie Running with Scissors and based their decision on the book on that monstrosity - please think again. The book is 10x better. I know that everyone says that but I haven't had such a horrible book vs movie comparison since Memoirs of a Geisha, which I turned off after 10 minutes.

Burroughs is so raw and candid. Coming from a person that feels the need to divulge too much of myself to people this is very refreshing.

Also - if you're looking for an afternoon read I suggest My Horizontal Life, Confessions of a One-Night Stand by Chelsea Handler (from girls behaving badly). She is definitely much more of a comedian than a writer but once you get past that it's very enjoyable. Much like Jenny McCarthy Belly Laughs - take it for what it is and it will give back. I laughed out loud quite a few times. The way she described the naked midget jumping down off of the toilet about sent me over the edge. Or the man with the penis so small that it was like a little clitoris... classic! (p.s. can't say I can relate to the midget but the little penis thing - oh yeah). So for any girls that have had a drunken, hotacious period in their life this book is for you. . . and me!

Lab Strut

My glucose test came back just fine and that's a huge relief. Not to say that the test wasn't a pain in the ass. But, like most things - the building up to it was worse. It's like with getting my blood drawn, I hate it and I'm petrified of needles. But the moments leading up to getting my blood drawn are much worse than the action itself. Yes, the prick hurts but it's almost a relief when it finally happens. Speaking of which, my arms look like that of a heroin addict. Well, perhaps not that bad but they are pretty bruised. One woman missed the vein and dug with the needle until she found it. I was very relieved when I didn't get her again for the other three blood draws. The test didn't make me as sick as I thought it would but I was sure stuck on stupid. After not eating and drinking pure sugar I could hardly finish a full sentence. I can't tell you how excited I was to learn that Meagan and I were going to the Pizza Hut buffet afterwards. I walked in there like a champ and was like "let's get this over with" and after my fourth blood draw I'm pretty sure I strutted out of that lab.

My 3d ultrasound is scheduled! September 6, at 10:00. Sooooo excited to see what she looks like. Every time Brian and I get into the conversation of "I hope she has my _____ and your____" we end up offending eachother. He didn't know that I didn't want my children to have his thin lips. I didn't know that he wasn't a huge fan of my button nose!

I had another doctor's appointment yesterday and I am up 8 lbs total for the pregnancy. I am so relieved but know that this trimester is when the real action happens!

I have honestly loved the second trimester. For all my complaining I have had quite a bit of energy and have just been so happy and dreamy. I spend a lot of time in Evelynn's nursery touching all of her stuff and taking stuff out of drawers just to put them back in. Of course, money's a stress - but people do it every day with much less. Lord knows I didn't have a beautiful nursery or a closet full of things. I had young parents that lived in the basement of a friend's hotel. A haunted hotel at that! I can see why God made the third trimester so difficult. You have to be so sick of being pregnant to be ok with labor. If someone told me I was to give birth tomorrow I would not be ok - pregnancy isn't that bad! Sure I have a huge supply of Tums on my dresser, my gums bleed and I'm beginning to waddle. But I can live with this.

Oakley and I are reading Superfudge and that has been a huge help in him accepting the baby. He gets excited to read everynight and understands what he's reading and breaks out in huge belly laughs. Especially when Fudge tries to sell his little sister. He told me last night that he can't wait to see his sister. That's the first time he's said something endearing like that. Up until now he has just requested ear plugs so that he can sleep through the night.

Oh! At the doctor's office I nearly passed out. I was sitting there and broke out into a cold sweat like nothing I've ever experienced and saw spots. I had to lay down with my arms over my head. It took FOREVER for the doctor to come in and when she did I quickly told her that something just wasn't right. She said it was hypoglecemia (or is it hyper) and went to get me some cheese and a juice box. I felt better fairly quickly. Apparently I need to eat more than a bowl of frosted mini wheats in the morning. AND - they think I may have a UTI and I need to go to the lab and give a urine sample. I have put this off. I am so sick of that damn place!

Will give blood for cake

I've probably mentioned before that my future daughter enjoys cake - and her mother enjoys this craving also. For breakfast, lunch a snack - I love me some cake.

When I was only a few months pregnant I had a dream that I was walking through the baby clothes section of a department store, touching everything and crying because I had been diagnosed with gestational diabetes. This became one of my "weekly fears" (which have been everything from SIDS, pooping on the table, autism, downs and the baby loving her dad more than me). I cut down on the sugar a little bit but not all the way.

Fast forward to week 27 of my pregnancy and my 1-hour glucose test. The nurse practioner told me to cut out sugar for two days before it and eat a breakfast with protein beforehand. I thought I had it in the bag. I ate an egg-filled tortilla before the test and forced down the nasty orange concoction. 4 vials of blood and an hour later I was out the door and feeling very woozy. I honestly probably shouldn't have driven home.

On Tuesday my doctor's office called to say that they had test results back. I knew that meant something because they said that they would just go over the test results at my next app't (Monday the 20th) I called the next morning and she said that I am low on Iron and asked if I had been feeling tired. Hhhhhmmmm. Let me think - tired, pregnant - hell yes I'm feeling tired! Then I thought - HOT DAMN! I'm just low on Iron! Nope - not just low on Iron. They want your blood sugar below140 and mine was 152. SO I have to do the three hour test.

This has brought up so many of my irrational thoughts. I'm not good at being pregnant. Other women are better than me. If I weren't overweight, or had willpower to not eat cake then I would be fine. The doctor even told me that 90% of the time the 3-hour tests come out negative. But just that I have to be retested has sent me into a completely irrational spiral. I know that it has a lot to do with horomones and the emotions of pregnancy but I am so upset with myself. I went to bed at 8 last night and couldn't wake up this morning for the life of me. I had dreams that I couldn't remember which foods had protein in them.

Even if I do have gd then it's not the end of the world. I will just have to monitor my diet. I know this. I also know that 2-7% of women get it and that it goes away after pregnancy. I know that I'm lucky to have a healthy baby in me and a healthy pregnancy (as far as I can tell). Perhaps it's the thought of a retest. I wast the girl in Elementary school that NEVER had to retake her spelling test on Friday because I always aced it on Wednesday. Sometimes I did so well that I got to GIVE the Friday spelling test. Oh yes - I was that freakin cool.

Right now I want to cry. I picture the disapproving looks from other mom's with their Eddie Bauer strollers and sweaters perched on their shoulders when I tell them that I failed my one-hour glucose test. They will then tell me that they ate completely organic, met with their personal trainer daily and gave birth completely natural. Irrational? Yes - I know this. But when did a pregnant woman (with or without her Eddie Bauer stroller) ever claim to be rational? That's like claiming to not be tired.

My Baby Shower

My shower was super fantastic.

Heather, Clara and Brandy all did such a great job. It wasn't too cheesey and it was decorated so cute. Pink and Green everywhere.

I thought that with me having a little girl that there would be a lot of little outfits, hats and shoes that she would grow out of quickly but people were extremely practical. Diapers, onsies, wash cloths, etc. And Believe Me - I'm not complaining. Plus, this means I get to buy all the little outfits that she will grow right out of! : )

Enchanted

"I finally get it" said Heather as we glided out of Tim's Toyota Center still under the spell of Stevie Nicks. Over the 6 years that we've known eachother she's listened to me ramble about how she is my absolute favorite. Hell, I wanted to name this baby Rhiannon but that was quickly vetoed by my husband. I know many of the stories behind her songs and cried in my gray Stevi-like dress when I snuck into a Pharmacists convention to see her in San Diego when I was 19. I honestly don't think that anyone can completely grasp the presence that is Ms. Nicks until you see her in concert. The scarves, the shawls, the boots, the spinning it's intoxicating.

My sister was able to put a check next to one of her "to do" items on her life list after Friday night. She danced, she cried, she pissed off the lady in front of her by sloshing a little whiskey. When I say she cried I suppose that's an understatement. During landslide she had a mini-breakdown. I do blame Stevie though, while singing this song she had a slideshow of pictures of her and her father in the background. Poor Clara walked (ok stumbled) out with no mascara on her eyelashes but instead had it strategically wiped all over her eyelids and cheek bones. I sat dry-eyed but remembered dancing to Landslide with my dad at my wedding. I didn't cry all day but suddenly let out a sob as we danced. This was the song that I would listen to when I was in California and realized that I had been a stubbon, dramatic fool. I even taped it and sent it to my dad - whether or not he listened to it I'll never know but that was my way of saying "I screwed up, you were right".

Evelynn wasn't overly active during the concert but I did stand and hold my belly while I danced with her. I imagine this isn't the last time that we will rock to these songs.

Rhiannon was by far my favorite song that she performed. I had goosebumps and a lump in my throat. This was closely followed by Gold Dust Woman and Lanslide.

Call her a witch, call her dried up but I call her amazing. I call her music an escape to poetry and rhaspy throats from belting out lyrics and slamming my hand on the steering wheel. She is and always has been completely enchanting.

27 Candles

I feel like Molly Ringwald today where it seems like nothing right can happen on her birthday. I really hope it ends with a cake and Jake Ryan.

I woke up this morning on the verge of tears - probably left over from being quite butt hurt yesterday when my husband told me that he had scheduled band practice for tonight. He un-scheduled it but the damage is already done. I got to work to find out that a person that I used to be super close to who I got the job here and has been here less time than me was moving into her own office. I then got an email saying that the pay cuts would go into August. At lunch I came home to Buddy having shit on the carpet (I didn't get too mad because I asked Oakley to let him out this morning and I'm not sure if he did - it's not like the dog to do that and he hasn't since he was a puppy). The afternoon is picking up. The carrot cake from the company helped. A regular paycheck would have been better.

Brian is making me dinner tonight and we will all hang out and have a quiet evening together.

Clara and Brandy get here on Friday and this is more needed than I thought it would be. My bday party has turned into a full-fledged pity party. . . and if anyone can snap me out of that it's them.

So - bring on Stevie Nicks and the baby shower. Maybe that's my equivilant to Jake Ryan and a cake.

Transition Day

Any step-parent can recognize and dread the term transition day. This is the day that you get your stepson/daughter and the day that you send them back.

The day that you get them you spend the entire day insisting that all the rules are the same and do, in fact, still exist. This makes for a very awkward day because you are so excited to see them. In cases like mine where my stepson has zero rules at his mom's house this can make for an interesting day.

The worst is the transition day when you have to send them back to their other life. Yes, this is a fact of life for a stepmother, but it's certainly not easy. Never have I been relieved to see him go. Instead I dread what kind of week he will have. What nonsense will be put into his head, what kind of people he will be taken around, where he will be sleeping, etc.

The uneasiness of this day is multiplied by 20 when said mother changes her plans 4-5 times a day. There have been times that Oakley has been patiently waiting on the couch, with his coat on for his mother to come only to get a phone call after 30 minutes of waiting that it won't be until later that afternoon.

Today she was supposed to come and pick him up between 12 and 3. Very ambiguous if you ask me. Of course this was met with the behavior of Who's rules do I follow between now and then? How much can I get away with? What kind of punishment can I get if I'm leaving today anyways? Where exactly do I belong? Is it wrong to be excited to go to my mom's? Is it wrong to be a little sad to leave my dad's? Also, the dreaded "ask your stepmother a million times how much longer until my mom gets here". Which, even the most level-headed person gets a little butt hurt upon hearing. Today she called at 11:30 and talked to Oakley to find out what to pack for Camp Verde. She has been complaining a lot that it's too hard to let him go and that she cries because she misses him so much. Fine. Come get him first thing Sunday morning. Oh no! Instead she calls at 11:30 and says that she'll be here between 3 & 4 (change of plans #2). Then she calls and says that her car doesn't have air conditioning and that she was wondering if we would bring him into town so she doesn't "have to drive all the way to Dewey" (not like I don't do it every morning to take him to his "school".) Change of plans # 3. I was pissed - we don't have a/c in our cars either. Brian has been at work since 4 am. I told her that it was up to Brian and he AGREED to come home from working all day, pick up Oakley, turn back around and drive a half hour and then drive all the way back home.

I find it very hard to believe that a woman that truly misses her child would even take an air conditioner into consideration. My daughter isn't born yet but I would walk to the ends of the earth if I hadn't seen her for a week. She even has the audacity to tell Oakley that she cries while he's gone because she misses him so much. No child should have that kind of burden.

So - today was like many Sundays. A confused little boy not sure how to express his feelings and a pissed off stepmother - angry that she is the more qualified person for the job, but will never equal his mother. I've accepted this. Is it easy? Hell no.

Might have been the Iced Soy Mocha!

She cooperated! She had her feet up and she was playing with her toes. Perfect time to catch a peek. I really hope that her vagina is never on the internet again! But here she is in all of her glory! I'm so excited! Now if I could only win the lottery and begin shopping! (or if only I had a nickel for every freakin' exclamation point - my hell! Sorry! haha.)

I had to whore myself for diapers...

It seems like everyone has a story of falling on hard times while they were pregnant. "we were so young... your father had been laid off... your father had gotten his 2nd DUI (this one is a personal one from my childhood!)... Grandma died... the great depression began", etc.

But not me! I waited until I was married and had my own house, dog, cat and husband. I was "doing it the right way". That is until...

1. My work cut our pay by 20% - which has equalled over $400 a month.
2. My dog tore his claw and the vet bills cost $270 (so far).
3. The air conditioners went out on my car - and Brian's.
4. My state tax refund has yet to arrive
5. Work started doing layoffs - which so far I have avoided
6. Medical bills for prenatal care started rolling in.
7. HOA dues are due.
8. Just to begin and name a few.

I have to shake my head and chuckle a little. Or else I would cry. I waited until I was 27 to start a family. People do it at 16 and make it look easier. They have multiple children. I am petrified of affording one. My dad had two daughters without health insurance. My grandma had her first baby at 15. Surely we can get through this.

Perhaps this is just part of the pregnancy experience. It will give me a chance to gingerly remind my hellion teenager of all that I had to endure while pregnant with her. Of course then I will throw in the birth story (exaggerated of course because my labor will be fairly quick and painless - with absolutely no tearing).

Speaking of vaginas - fingers crossed that the baby flashes hers tomorrow! 80% just isn't good enough for me.

What they don't tell you in Health Class... but should

I have come to the conclusion that in order to scare teenage girls away from becoming pregnant they need to talk to a girl that is currently pregnant. Nearly all teenage girls are completely wrapped up in appearances and trying to be "normal". There is nothing normal about pregnancy. If there was ever a time in your life that you feel more like a freak of science - it's now. Keep in mind - I am only 20 weeks, things will get worse... I realize this (and yet people feel the need to laugh at me and say "just wait" like I'm stupid) I'm not stupid and I am fully prepared to revisit this topic in a few months.

1. You bloat. I'm convinced this happens right after conception. Every bit of fat on your body suddenly swells and sitting, breathing and crossing your legs becomes a chore.

2. Your hair becomes thick and lustrous - ALL your hair. Everywhere. It grows much quicker also. And grooming? Forget about it. Unless you get waxed by a professional all of the unwanted hair is hard to reach and you are tired and cranky. Your husband will be sleeping next to sasquatch.

3. You become stupid. Not cute Jessica Simpson stupid. Literally retarded. You forget in middle of sentences that you were even talking. Once I came home from the store and walked into the house and left my car running.

4. Your china swells. It swells so bad that sometimes when you pee late at night (one of the 8 times you get up to pee) the pee shoots straight to the left because of the swelling. It runs down your hairy legs and you are too tired to care. You also get the same "happy trail" that looks so sexy on men. It does not look sexy on you and becomes longer as you grow bigger.

5. Your farts stink worse than the dogs and you become extremely gassy.

6. You don't have your period but don't throw those pads out! You get discharge, lots of discharge - or twatsnot if you will.

7. Unless your mother and grandmother didn't get them you WILL get stretchmarks! All of the vitamin E, cocoa butter, olive oil, what have you does not help. And slathering yourself up (as Jenny McCarthy so delicately put it in her book Belly Laughs) makes you feel like you are greasing a huge ham.

8. You are either constipated or have diahrrea.

9. You get acne.

10. Your belly gets in the way during sex and you feel more like you are sumo wrestling your husband.

11. Strangers offer you advice as well as their own horror stories.

12. You get more boogers. Tons of boogers, and bloody ones. Just like your cervix becomes more "mucusy" so does your nose. There's a term called Pregnant Rhino-something or another. What this means is that you constantly have your finger in your nose.

13. You smell everything. You give you husband a complex because you can smell the sweat that has not left his body and you ask him daily if he forgot his deoderant.

I am very sure that if the guest speaker at the sex ed class walked in and showed her ungroomed, swollen vagina while letting out the worst fart on earth - covered in Acne, finger in her nose, bloated and adorned in stretch marks... girls might think twice.

*disclaimer - don't get me wrong. I am delighted to be pregnant and so excited to have a baby. Many women feel like if they complain about their pregnancies then they are somehow being ungrateful. This is not meant to come across that way and I would love to type more but I need to change my pad and grease up my ham.