BabyBit's Nursery

So I’m not quite complete on the nursery, but I keep meaning to show it to you. If I wait until it is complete, babybit will be 10 years old by then.

This room was our guest bedroom so fair warning to any future guests, you will now have to sleep on the couch. Due to tax reasons, we have to keep the Den/office an actual work area so that room was off limits for sleeping accommodations.

I don’t really have any before pictures, more just in-progress after we emptied out the room and were trying out paint colors. 

Room prep/progress

I knew I didn’t really want to do pastel pink and blue, or even green and brown (which has become the go-to gender-neutral colors). My goal was to do primary colors without being over the top. Its funny how the mood board originally created looks nothing like the end result. No matter, I’m VERY happy with the results. The baby blanket I made was really the color palatte I tried to stick to.

Baby Blanket Color Pallate


We chose a rich honey butter color to paint the walls. Side note – make sure the home improvement store properly mixes the paint when you buy it. We circled the room before we noticed that all the pigment was at the top of the can. As you can see we had two different colors where the gallon started and finished. A second coat fixed that problem though.

Paint Fail

As soon as I showed Aunt Biscuit my idea for the alphabet letters, she requested that she take on that project. Considering how juvenile my craft projects typically turn out and what great style she has, I was happy to let her take it on. I wasn’t allowed to see the letters until they were complete. They are awesome. It took me too long to hang them on the wall and as you can see I eyeballed it when hanging them. Some are closer together than others and crooked but ce la vie.

Alphabet Wall


I’m actually surprised at how inexpensively we decorated the room, thanks to all the donations. The dresser and mirror were in the room already. I just re purposed them with white paint. The other furniture was all hand-me-downs (rocker from SIL, pillow made by Momma T, crib from co-worker, and changing table from a friend). The lamps were craigslist finds that were painted. The rug was on sale at Menards (where you can save big money, by the way).

Dresser and Mirror


Crib and Alphabet (please ignore all the clutter that I don't know where to store)


Changing table and Rocker (imagine white storage cabinet above the changing table)


As you can tell, space is a premium in the room – already storing things under the crib and where ever we can find room. There are a couple of remaining items, including shelves/storage over the changing table.
 
Only 4 days until the due date - Merry Christmas from BIGbit

Too much time to worry...

With the holidays approaching, work is starting to slow down. Multiply that by the decline in projects due to my looming maternity leave and you’ll understand that I have a little too much time to be impatient, worry about complications and generally stew about motherhood.

That means you all get the joy of reading about every thought that crosses my mind. At least I’ve put it here so you can ignore it without insulting me directly!

Patience – It is a virtue I’ve never been blessed with. I was moving along fine with the idea that it would be January before babybit arrived. I had told myself there was still a lot more waiting to be done. That was until my doctor examined me last week and said I was 80% effaced (google it if you really want to know what that means). I was so caught off guard with the idea that my body was actually progressing toward labor that I rushed through the last of my tasks to get the house baby ready. It took exactly one day. Since then, no more progression, despite all the aches, pains, Braxton Hicks (that hubs has affectionately named Braxton Millers), sore boobs and overall uncomfortableness (pretty sure that isn’t a word). Don’t get me wrong, I KNOW that first time moms typically go past their due date. I KNOW my mom and my sister both went late. I KNOW that there is NO WAY to know when you are going into labor and I keep telling myself that another couple of weeks is NOTHING compared to the 9 months of being pregnant, and the years of trying to get pregnant. But logic hasn’t taught me patience.

Complications – Hubs asked me a question the other day that has been a cloud of a thought in my own mind for months. A thought that I didn’t really want to give shape and texture to, “What if our baby has special needs or isn’t completely healthy?” Well, if you know the Hubs you know the question wasn’t that succinct, but that was the gist of the conversation. With the pending introduction to your new little one, I imagine everyone fears their bambino won’t be perfect. My response, also originally not as succinct, “I can’t worry about it, because the worrying won’t do anyone any good. We’ll handle whatever comes our way the best we can.” But of course now the question is out there. A constant worry than I can’t really ignore.

General anxiety – It is probably naive of me, but my fear of labor hasn’t been about the pain. I guess knowing an epidural is an anesthesiologist away helps put me at ease with that. My fear, grounded completely in infertility struggles, manifests around my body not doing what it is “supposed to”. The uncertainty of being able to breastfeed manifested itself into a dream where Momma T was scorning me for starving my baby. She took matters into her own hands and feed it canned cat food. SOMETHING had to be done. Of course then there is the fear that I’ll have a C-section fear if I don’t dilate. This fear is only compounded by my sister’s disappointment that result for her own labor and her painful recovery process.

But not everything is all doom and gloom of "what if things go wrong". Some of the time spent is thinking about all the cool wonders of pregnancy, like:

There are currently TWO souls in my one body – how crazy is that?

If babybit is a girl, then the eggs have already been created in her little ovaries, and I am carrying not only her but possibly my future grandchildren.

I am more proud of my stomach than I have EVER been in my life (and probably will be again). I am showing it off to anyone that will look. My skin has NEVER been this tight.

I really love feeling him/her move inside of me. I spend so much time with my hands on my belly, trying to discern the shapes of a leg or a butt that I am bordering on the obsessed.

Let the waiting begin

December is here! I am so excited to finally be within THREE WEEKS of my due date. I do think that there is no WORSE time to be pregnant though. I'm totally stressed out about Christmas shopping. I have so much to get done, but I can only stand to be out at the stores, fighting the crowds for short periods. Hubs and I tried to go shopping last weekend and only 30 mins into it, I was leaning over the cart to steal some back ache relief. Last night I had to go to Target and Lowes. I ended up paying WAY too much for stuff at Target because I wanted to skip the trip to Lowes since I was already drained. I guess it's going to be a online shopping kind of year.

Biscuit finally unveiled the finishing touch for the Nursery last weekend. Hopefully this weekend we'll assemble and take pictures for the blog. I'm excited to show the before and after pictures of the room.

Not much else going on. Just trying to keep myself busy, because, you know, a watched pot...

Tick, tock.

Baby Shower and Nursery Assembly

Well I know I haven’t been updating the blog as often as I should but that just means more content when I do get around to it.

Two weekends ago, Biscuit, in collaboration with my Sister In-Law and Step Mother in-Law threw me an awesome baby shower. It was a great Sunday afternoon with family and friends. It was also Baby Q’s first big social outing.


I was overwhelmed by the people that took time out of their schedules to spend the afternoon with me. I’m so very lucky to have such a supportive family and group of friends. Plus, did I mention the food? Biscuit did it up. She even baked Grandma’s famous carrot cake recipe for the occasion.

After the shower, we unloaded our booty into the Nursery, already questioning where we are going to keep/put/store all this baby stuff. Hubs and I have been spending weeknights organizing the room. Unpacking things and trying to find their permanent home. The first major task that Hubs was excited to tackle was putting together the crib. It was a hand-me down but it looks great (even if there is a voluntary recall). I figure it’s nothing compared to the death traps we slept in as babies, right?



Even though I haven’t washed any of the bedding yet, Hubs insisted we had to put it on so you could see the final product and take pictures.

The next night we assembled the stroller car seat travel system. I read the instructions as Hubs assembled. I must admit, they make these things pretty dummy proof now a’days. As he was playing with the new stroller, I added the ‘winter coat’ accessory to the car seat. Think of it as a sleeping bag for the car seat so you don’t have to put a coat on your baby each time you go outside. We surveyed our work and both agreed that 1) our baby will be very warm and 2) that they need to make more things this soft and comfortable for adults!

As we collapsed into the couch once the stroller was wheeled into the already cramped nursery, I asked “What are we going to do when we run out of things to put together?” I guess the answer is, we let the waiting begin

Don’t get me wrong, we aren’t at all “ready”. There is no rug on the floor, nothing on the walls, hubs hasn’t picked up the cradle and Oh yeah, the baby is still pretty content playing soccer with my internal organs. But you all know how good I am with waiting. At least I have the baby blanket to complete. That will keep me busy for another couple of nights.

Updates

On Being Pregnant:
Well only two more months to go! You know what that means for YOU right? Christmas is only a short 8 weeks away. Better start shopping.
For me, it means bending over has become almost impossible. I try to explain it like this - I have a basketball attached to my waist. It's not like fat because that would smush and move to the side. I bend over and the basketball pushes inward on my lungs and internal organs. I've gotten to the point where I get really mad when i drop something. I'm even tempted to just walk away from it, but there is a part of my dad in me that can't stand knowing that paper towel is just cluttering the floor . Side note, leave open a cupboard or closet door at my parents house and see how long it remains unnecessarily ajar.

I'm taking pre-natal yoga, which I love. I'm tired more often but every day is different. Most of the mirrors in the house are from the chest up so my only indication of how pregnant I look is gauged by the number of times strangers ask "When are you due". I know it's a bad outfit when someone says, "Why are you still working". Umm yeah, TWO MONTHS LEFT.

Baby Bit moves all the time, though mostly between 8 and 10 pm. Now that there is limited room for the squirmer, the kick/punch combos tend to land squarely on my bladder, ribs and/or internal organs. While sometimes painful, I love knowing that everything is ok and he/she's moving!

On my new niece and my new sister-momma:
Quinn and Momma are doing good. Meg has been helping set realistic expectations for me of what the first month with a newborn is really like. Quinn is already proving to be a beauty like her mother, wide-eyed and attentive for her first photo shoot. Q's first formal social outing will be my baby shower and I almost can't wait that long to see her again!

On the nursery:
Well the furniture is finally painted and reassembled. This weekend Hubs and I will be painting the room. It will feel much more complete once we have that done. I took some before pictures so once I have all the pieces and parts I can share.The bedding is on its way. I still need to figure out what to do about shelves, a rug and curtains (not sure if the current ones will work or not). I'm glad I have that to keep me busy because I don't have much else to do but wait. And I'm not very good at the waiting.

On the animals:
Both Franklin and Sammy are curious about all the work going on in the old guest bedroom/new nursery. The door remains shut to keep out unwanted animal hair! When the door is opened, sure enough I find Franklin sneaking in to smell everything. He knows he's not supposed to be in there because the minute I say "What are you doing" he looks up at me sheepishly and runs out of the room. Other than the room, they are oblivious. Franklin enjoys my frequent trips to the bathroom, which he considers his room. We've since taken to calling the bathroom the cat's office.

Oh and because we need to make sure we know what we're doing, we did have to test out our diaper skills. .
He puts up with a lot!

Introducing Judith Quinn

It was an eventful week last week as Meg and Jack welcomed my new niece Judith Quinn. Quinn is a beautiful bright-eyed bundle of joy. I think she resembles her dad mostly, but I'm sure we'll see how that changes as she grows.

I've never been one to coo or to be turned immediately to mush when presented with a newborn as are most other women. So blame it on it being my sister's pregnancy, my own hormones, my own anticipation but I LOVE that baby. The hardest part was to leave and know she is going to grow and change so much by the time I see her next. Welcome to the world baby Q!

Letters to Baby Bit

Dear Baby Bit

I guess it make sense that I pick back up writing to you as your kicks and punches demand my attention throughout the day. I smile to myself as I feel you turn over, hopefully finding a cozy position. Most of the time, your movement makes me smile, but sometimes my bladder is full and you poke, poke, poke it. I get that you don't know that I am currently in the car and can’t get to the bathroom.

My belly is getting so big, it's hard to believe its possible. Everyone is anxious to find out if you are a boy or a girl. In the beginning, everyone was convinced you were a boy. Now it seems that people have their money on a girl. Everything I do is analyzed as clues to your gender. I eat sweets, you are a girl. I am irritable, you are a girl. I am carrying in front, you are a girl. I have always thought you would be a boy just because I can imagine a little toe-headed version of your father running around, but then last night I had a dream that you were a baby girl with a head full of hair. We talk about your features. The ultrasound showed that you’ll probably have your dad’s nose (lucky you!). I think you will favor your Dad’s family. Only time will tell.

You cousin is due this month and Uncle Meg is very ready to meet the new baby. There is so much going on right now as the whole family gets ready for your arrival.

Love you,
Mom

Here you are at 27 weeks:

Husband vs The Bees

Since my drinking shenanigans have been curtailed, we have found other ways to entertain ourselves. Below is my documentation of the Husband taking care of the bee's nest. While typically we would not resort to KILLING the bees, they pissed us off enough that we meant business.

Oh and keep in mind that this is taking place in the dead heat of summer.

Enjoy.

Baby Bit is 23 weeks along

So it's been almost 6 months now so I know it's time for an update. I'll start with some things that I've learned thus far.

Lessons that pregnancy has taught me thus far.


You can never pee on too many sticks when doing so makes that sweet positive sign. It’s like getting a “GREAT JOB” every time.

My husband can’t keep a secret.

The only thing that sucks worse than constant nausea is when it is coupled with fatigue.

My body is no longer under my control – tired? Forget the caffeine and Redbull, just sleep. Allergies? Deal with it. Hungry? THERE IS NO IGNORING IT! In the middle of a meeting? The gas and burps can not be contained.

My body is no longer recognizable– currently my breasts are being consumed by giant areolas that I can’t help but stare at in fascination. You could bounce a quarter off my stomach, which despite all my vain efforts has never been a flat, tight surface.

Knowing is different than experiencing. You can absorb as much information as other Moms, the Internet, your sister and Doctors are willing to tell you, but not until you have experienced any of it do you have a strong realization that words fall short and the descriptions of things like morning sickness and pregnancy fatigue are akin to describing a bullet wound as a scratch.

I am tired of being “cute”. I suddenly empathize with any adult that has a cherubic face, kid-like features or any other quality that one might describe as such.How are you supposed to feel good about yourself when you are just so DARN CUTE! I know there could be worse things but PLEASE the next time you see me, don't say I look CUTE. Any other positive reinforcement will suffice. If it isn't positive, be prepareed. I have discovered hormones make me disgustingly passive aggressive.

And finally on a positive note - Actually SEEING the baby move is one of the most amazing things I’ve witnessed thus far.


Things Husband has learned:

Do not hide chocolate from your pregnant wife.

Do not reference your pregnant wife’s moodiness by saying you hope she gets something to eat soon.

Be careful how you reference your pregnant wife's current size. No matter how positive you paint the picture she will hone in on the word BIG.

There really is something growing in my belly (besides my appetite) He saw it kick this week.

AUGUST ALREADY???

I'm sorry, I know I haven't posted much but consider it a sign of a busy summer. I can't believe how fast it's gone already.

July was a blur kicking off with the annual 4th of July BBQ. Then there was a weekend in Cleveland for two bridal shower's. The following weekend the wedding parties continued with Mo's bachalorette party, a canoeing/cabin weekend. Quickly after that was a family vacation to Dale Hollow, where Mellow Yellow was the star (not breaking down once). While we were skiing and relaxing, Sammy enjoyed adventures being boarded at Doggie Day Care. When she came home we thought she might be sick because we'd never seen her SO EXHAUSTED. No time to relax when we got home from Vacation because it was time for a family get together on the other side of the Fam the last weekend in July.

The blur of July bled into August as we celebrated Momma T's 60th. Happy Birthday Momma, you are beautiful!

Of course all of these events should garner independent blog posts, but honestly I can't find the TIME!

To compound all of this craziness, I still haven't written an announcement post that I AM PREGNANT. Of course, I was planning to announce it with much more fan-fare, especially considering all the time I spent writing about our infertility struggles. There was so much to say at a time when I wasn't telling anyone. The fear of miscarriage, the excitement of success, the planning. I would have written it and posted it all later but the nausea and fatigue drained every good intention from me. Then suddenly I was feeling better and the summer rush was upon me.

Don't worry, many of my upcoming posts will focus on the awe, excitement, utter fascination and HUMOR this experience has brought us. I keep delaying those posts because, as I mentioned, I wanted to ANNOUNCE it first. So consider this The Announcement! BabyBit, is due on Christmas Day, with hopes that he/she will decide to come earlier or later so it's birthday is not overshadowed by Kris Kringle and decorated evergreens.

Internet - meet BabyBit:

It's a dog's life

In preparation for vacation, we decided to check out a new boarding facility closer to home. This new place has doggie day care, is cage free and very close to home – walking distance in fact.

When we inquired about boarding, we were informed that she had to come in for a day to ensure she got along with the other dogs, very important considering the cage free environment. We are not really the “doggie daycare” type, but it was required.

It was a Tuesday before work when I loaded her into the car. Usually sleepy and not really awake when I leave, she was perplexed but eager to wake up as I dug for her leash. As I led her to the car, she danced with happy feet at the excitement of a car ride.

Around the block and down the street, I pulled into the new place. Sniffing, smelling and straining on the leash, I let her pull me inside. Once inside, I met the owner face to face and introduced her to Sammy who’s tail was wagging so hard I have lash marks on my legs. I let her know that Sammy is good with other dogs BUT she tends to have an excessive amount of energy. She will insist other dogs play with her despite the fact that they have exceeded their exertion level.

I waiting for a couple minutes uncomfortably, not sure I was ready to leave her before I decided to go.

I finally departed for work worried that I’ll never be able to manage leaving my kids at daycare if my hemming and hawing about leaving the DOG was any indicator.

I was eager to leave work and hear how she did at her first day with friends. I pull up and she was outside near the fence. She recognized me immediately with the perked ears and alert stance. I called out to her and she looked back towards her new friends, conflicted. She couldn’t get to me from where she was, so she stood there watching me unsure what to make of the whole situation.

I went inside to get her grade. The owner said she was wonderful, a truly happy dog. I was beaming from the pride. She let her inside and Sammy came to greet me, excited to tell me all about her day’s adventures.

She was full of excitement and energy until we got home. Once home, she collapsed on the cool hardwood floor, panting with true satisfaction. From what the Husband tells me, she was pretty immobile the next day, another indication of how hard she played.

As we get ready for vacation, my only worry is that she plays so hard she makes herself sick! Must be a good life.

Remember me?

I'm still here. Guess what, it's SUMMER. That is my only excuse for not posting as of late. The summer schedule has been in full swing and I'm caught up in it all.

The summer kicked off for me and the Hubs with the Warrior Dash. We had signed up eons ago and when the time came to compete, we forgot to train. Oops. It was still a blast, with the obstacles being relatively easy while the uphill trail running and afternoon 90 degree sun depleted what energy we had to begin with.

It was a muddy, wet, knee-scraping competition and we had a blast. At the end we were all smiles behind a wall of mud.



I was disappointed in my lack of athletic ability, but the Hubs was nice enough to wait and walk with me. I think part of him wanted to make sure I didn't really hurt myself. I mean really, I'm not the most nimble. It was much more fun to have someone by your side.

Afterwards we were sprayed down by a guy who was having way too much fun wielding a fire hose. Wet and not even relatively clean, we sat in the sun to dry and people watch. The event was huge and the people watching was never-ending. The boys drank beer while I gnawed on a turkey leg, proud warriors content to spend the day outside.





More summer fun to follow. Come back next week to read about Sammy's First Trip to Doggie Day Care, A Christmas in July surprise and of course our Annual Fourth of July Party Recap.

Random Friday

This week has been busy so this is my Random Friday recap.

We saw baby Lilly this weekend. She is so cute. Evidently she has a strong resemblance to Hubs Grandma. Let's hope she grows out of that.

During the week I was running around with so many things to accomplish, I forgot to pay attention to what Roxie was telling me. That little orange gas light was on all day. I didn't even look down at my dash until it was TOO LATE. Yes, that's right. I ran out of gas. Did I mention that I was ON THE HIGHWAY. I pulled over and turned on the hazards preparing to hear 'I told you so' as I dialed the Hubs. Turns out, he had a feeling something bad had happened and was just relieved that I was ok. He was there to my rescue in record time. Thanks Babe.

My absentmindedness continued throughout the week, putting the peanut butter in the fridge. I know some people keep the peanut butter in the fridge but we do not. It gets hard and cold, yuck. I told you this was a random post....

Tonight is dinner with some of my friends that I haven't seen in a while - YAY.

This weekend I have NO PLANS and I am going to keep it that way. I will instead worship the sun in my back yard - wanna join me Biscuit???

I hope you all have a great holiday weekend!

No new post?

The SUN IS OUT. It is 80 degrees. I do not want to be inside.

Get out and enjoy the blue skys. Remember, soon it will be over 90 with crazy humidity and we'll be cursing the weather for other reasons.

Maybe I'll take Sammy to the Park and post some pics on Monday.

Happy Friday All.

Infertility Myth – Infertility means you will never get pregnant

As you’ve noticed, I’ve dedicated my posts this week to National Infertility Awareness. This awareness week is sponsored by RESOLVE. This organization has challenged bloggers to bust an infertility myth. The goal of this challenge is to bring together bloggers from the infertility community as well as other bloggers interested in the topic to answer the question: What is the biggest infertility myth and how has it effected your life or the life of your friends and family members?


The Myth – If you are diagnosed with infertility, it means you (and your partner) can never get pregnant. The second part of this myth is that once you get pregnant, you are CURED or no longer affected by infertility.

We are so lucky to live in a society with medical advancements that make it possible for someone like me, with a hormone imbalance, to take medication to assist in conception and pregnancy. Don’t get me wrong, each month that I take my ever increasing dose of drugs, get blood work and skip lunch for a doctor’s visit it eats away my hope for a positive outcome. But the chance is still alive. My doctor is confident that it will work.

Infertility means something is medically wrong, standing between you and your future. Infertility steals the romantic picture you imagined of that unexpected surprise. It divides you from your friends and family that don’t understand your journey. For a time, It silenced this typically outspoken woman. It challenges your sense of self as a woman. It erases any naivety that you control how you will have your family.

I know this process has worked for MANY other women. If When it works, infertility will still haunt me. Even if I get the positive result I’ve been seeking, I’ll still be plagued by the knowledge that my hormone imbalance could cause me to miscarry. If I am able to have a baby, I will always carry the knowledge that this emotional, cold, scheduled process will have to be endured for each subsequent child.

I am extremely hopeful that I will end up with a healthy pregnancy. Please take time to read some of the other myths that bloggers have busted, here. There is an amazing diversity of stories. As I was sifting through these blogs, I was inspired and comforted.

Thank you for taking the time to read my blog posts this week. Hopefully I've given voice to a topic that is typically silent.
A basic understanding of infertility here - http://www.resolve.org/infertility101
Background on National Infertility Awareness Week - http://www.resolve.org/takecharge

National Infertility Awareness Week - Day 3

This week I'm honoring National Infertility Awareness week by sharing the one way I've been able to remain positive throughout this journey, letters to my future baby.


To learn more about infertility and how it affect 1 in 8 couples visit http://www.resolve.org/.

Come back tomorrow for a post that is part of RESOLVE's Bust a Myth challenge.
 
Dear Baby,



Well baby, this wasn’t the month for us to meet you. It is better this way though. As long as you spend the proper 9 months in the oven, I will qualify for maternity leave. It will be a better financial situation for all of us. I’m going to take this month to get healthy so everything is good and ready for you baby. I’m also going to schedule the appropriate Doctor’s appointments so we can get everything checked out. If we can’t conceive you, we need to know so we don’t lose time trying to adopt you. I’m open to all the potential ways you may come into our lives. We are getting ready for you.


We saw a friend’s baby yesterday. She was asking all about you. Why you are not here yet? Why we are not talking about all our efforts to find you? She made me mad baby. She doesn’t understand that this is going to happen on YOUR schedule, not ours. I was upset about this because she made me question my efforts and process.


I need to let it go. She doesn’t know how hard it is to wait for you. She may have her own struggles that I don’t understand. I went to see your Aunt Biscuit and she was so supportive. She listened to me be angry, sad and finally helped me rediscover my confidence. You will love her baby. She is almost as impatient as I am to meet you. It would be great if you were here to see her wedding!


Oh baby, we have so much planned for you. Your dad and I have so much fun together. It almost makes me sad that you aren’t here to experience it and play with us.


We love you!

National Infertility Awareness Week - Day 2

As I mentioned yesterday I'm honoring National Infertility Awareness week by sharing the one way I've been able to remain positive throughout this journey, letter to my future baby.
To learn more about infertility and how it affect 1 in 8 couples visit http://www.resolve.org/.

I should add a caveat that these letters were all written in the previous 6 months and represent the roller coaster of emotions I'm always trying to curtail.

Dear Baby,
Oh I hope my uncomfortable cramps are you…. Your dad and I got into a fight last night because I told him I’m pregnant. He is doesn’t want me to be sad if it’s not true. He hates to see me sad. I tried to make him understand that I’d rather fantasize about how great it will be. If this is not the month, I will be sad, but I am still full of hope and anticipation.


Plus I feel little twinges. Is that you baby? Are you trying to let me know that you are growing? I will take a test this weekend and see...

National Infertility Awareness Week

This week is National Infertility Awareness week. First, let me start with a basic definition of infertility so you can understand what 1 in every 8 couples are struggling with:

Infertility is a disease or condition of the reproductive system often diagnosed after a couple has had one year of unprotected, well-timed intercourse, or if the woman has suffered from multiple miscarriages and the woman is under 35 years of age. If the woman is over 35 years old, it is diagnosed after 6 months of unprotected, well-timed intercourse. You can learn more here, http://www.resolve.org/.

In dealing with my own struggle with infertility, I have tried many different things to cope and remain positive. One of my private outlets has been to write letters to my future baby. In an effort to shed light on a problem that has women suffering in silence,  I’m going to share one of my letters each day this week.

Dear Baby,

Every day lately I think about you. I am so impatient; it is hard for me to wait for you. I know you will come to me when the time is right, but I think about you all the time.

Right now I spend every day thinking you might be a tiny embryo. Will the next nine months be spent preparing for your arrival or is not the right time yet? I tell your dad every month that this is the month and I am pregnant. He doesn’t believe me. I’m hoping you and I can play a trick on him. He is so used to me claiming pregnancy that when it is really time, you and I can surprise him. Oh baby how much fun we can have with announcing your entrance into the world.

Your dad and I talk about you when we’re alone, away from the pressure of other people’s expectations. We debate names, funny ones, serious ones and even family inspired ones. We wonder if you will have more of my genes or his, if we will be able to conceive you, or if we will be blessed to adopt you. We know you are out there; we just have to find you.

I can’t wait to see your dad in action. He is so excited to take care of you. He has so much love just waiting to shower you with.

It is such a hard task, waiting for you baby. I’ve never been very good at waiting. Maybe that is your first lesson for me, patience. If it is, you are just like your father.

I’m hoping that writing you letters will help me deal with the waiting. Help me explore my hopes and not be disappointed when it’s not yet time.

Happy Easter

While the weather maybe cold and gray, I'm excited about the Easter weekend. I was remembering how we celebrated the holiday as kids. We usually spent it with Momma T's side of the family.

In the morning there would be three Easter Baskets lined up on the hearth, each with one large chocolate rabbit nestled in that iconic florescent plastic grass, sprinkled with jelly beans and other various candies. There might also be some peeps and a Cadbury egg in there too.

We'd get ready for church, fighting the whole way with Momma T. about the outfit she pick out for us (OK, maybe that was just me. If you saw the pictures, you'd know why I was protesting). There would always be a picture taken in the backyard of us three girls together to be sent to family members afar. Then off to church where the thought of all that candy waiting at home would make us act like Satan's children during the longest Mass EVER. 

One home we'd dash through the door to do a quick inventory on our Easter baskets, making sure none of that candy had gone missing. We'd dig into some of the candy before we could be told no. If we were having everyone come to our house, we would then be permitted a reprieve from the itchy, binding dress clothes.

The family then all came together for an early dinner. The parents hid the eggs. And we'd all be waiting patiently for the figurative horn to blow, unleashing me, my sisters and my cousins to scatter through the yard. We would diligently search for each of the hard boiled eggs that we so carefully decorated earlier in the week. We learned at a young age that the eggs that could be easily located were for the "young kids". We were smarter than those babies anyways, right?. A cry for attention would arise each time an egg was discovered, lauding ourselves for finding a well hidden egg (OK, probably only me again).

I did a quick survey at work today to see if others had the same tradition. Turns out most other families hid the plastic eggs full of candy or coins. That seems like less of an adventure to me. It would be OK if not all the plastic eggs were discovered. Now the hard boiled eggs, you HAD to find all of those or risk a smell come summer that left you running.

Because Momma T and Padre might have not been paying attention to where they hid all these eggs, they used the egg crates to keep track of the count. There would usually be one spot left in that cardboard crate that would send the clan clamoring back into the yard, searching for the last elusive egg. 

After that we'd all keep ourselves busy, probably eating candy and driving our parents crazy as they attempted to get dinner on the table, ultimately celebrating the way our family always does - over food.

We had some great Easters growing up. What was your Easter like as a kid?

Good Morning

Earlier this week I had a RUDE awakening, but before I get into all that, you have to understand some background. 

Sammy used to have all kinds of stomach problems when she was a pup. There were weeks straight where we would come home to find her crate a mess with diarrhea. It was heart wrenching to see her ashamed, cowering in her own mess. We didn't keep her in her crate for long. While we were working with the vet to solve her 'issues' we did many things to ensure she could let us know when she HAD TO GO. First we hung a bell from the door and every time we let her out, we encouraged her to touch her nose to the bell. It's amazing to me that years later, she still uses this technique, especially when we are ignoring her. Second she must sleep upstairs with us. I am a light enough sleeper that I can hear her paws on the linoleum. This discover came after we discovered she would sneak to the basement to do her business in the middle of the night. Now if I hear those paws moving, I'm up in a flash. If I'm really sleepy I''ll tell her to get back in her bed. If she REALLY has to go, she'll whine and I know I'd better get up.

OK, fast forward to earlier this week. I'm snug as a bug in a rug when I hear those tell tale paws heading for the stairs. I was so comfortable..."get in your bed Sam" I told her as I started to drift back asleep. It could have been two minutes or five minutes, but I heard her paws on the floor again. Just as I was about to tell her to get back in her bed, i hear a sound of something between a liquid and a solid splat on the ground. No matter the end it came out of I was on my feet, out of bed, giving her a WIDE berth fumbling for the light switch. There was probably two seconds in the dark that my mind tried to discern based on the sound, which end the mess originated from.

The second I found the switch, the smell smacked me in the face. It wasn't puke. I raced downstairs to let her out and grab cleaning supplies. By the time I cam back to the bedroom, I was walking into a wall of the foulest smelling dog poop you could imagine. Hubs was in bed, covering his face with a blanket, gagging. I normally have a strong constitution for these type of things but this time, this time I almost vomited all over that mess.

I cleaned furiously.  i did not want to give that smell enough time to permeate. When I got the mess cleaned as much as I could, I went outside to find Sammy. I opened the side door to see her hiding around the corner of the house. She wouldn't come near the door as she stood far away. Her ears were perked as she looked at me as if to ask, "are you mad at me mom?"  Damn that dog is cute. Almost cute enough for me to forgive her. I cheerily invited her back inside to show I wasn't mad. She ran straight to her bed. I gave her a couple pets to reassure her that I know it was her fault while I mentioned that she could have at least whined once or twice. I mean, I thought that was our system.

So here we all are, back in the bedroom with the poop stench still lingering and I look at the clock: 5:30 AM.

Once upon a time...

...there was a girl that longed for sunshine. Her skin turned gray and her smile snuck into hibernation. Age began to show on this girls face, the weight of too many winters wore deep wrinkles around her eyes. Oh sunshine, please bring warmth and rescue this girl. Lift her spirits and smooth her worries. Remind her of the simple pleasures of birds singing and flowers blooming. This girl needs you sunshine.

Embarrasing story time

A group of people were talking the other day about the strangest places their cat has ever peed. This got me thinking about Franklin and how much I didn't know about cats before I got him.

As a dog person, I'd heard horror stories about cat pee. Cat pee will stay in your house forever, seeping into the floorboards, eating through concrete, contaminating the soil with a stench so deeply rooted that calls come in from the other side of the world complaining of the stench.  This was my impression of cat pee.

Cut to me, living on my own, wanting a pet. I found Franklin at the shelter, no bigger than the palm of my hand. I brought him home.


Purchasing kitty litter and supplies, I remembered all the horrific stories. What was I going to do? When ever I was home, I would stalk him around my two bedroom apartment, always supervising to make sure he didn't pee. I think he thought this was a fun game as he dashed from room to room with me on his tail.

Eventually I relaxed. He was a good kid, used his litter box like a good boy. I figured all of those 'stories' I'd heard must have been from bad, temperamental cats.

Fast forward to moving into our house. He was a little shocked by the move, but pretty resilient for a cat. That Christmas though, we through him for a loop when we brought home SAMMY. Even though she was only a mere 40lbs at the time, that was 40lbs of crazy, tail flailing, limb flying shenanigans that Franklin wanted none of. And he wanted to LET US KNOW.

He decided to jump into a clothes basket, full of clean, folded clothes, and PEE. I have no idea when he did this, because by the time I was doing my normal morning dash through the house to get to work on time, I went to grab some clothes from the laundry basket and they were still nicely folded and DRY.

It was probably about 10'oclock at work when I finally yelled over my cube wall, "Do you guys smell that? It STINKS in here". They were all 'no, I don't really smell anything'. I was all "REALLY, I think it smells like PISS!" I think I might have even asked a couple of people to come in my cube to see if they could smell it. Either they said they didn't smell anything or I'm blocking it out......
Later that day I was in the bathroom stall when I actually took a whiff of my shirt. As you can deduce, IT WAS ME. I was wearing cat piss clothing.
I was horrified.

Of course, now, two jobs later, I can share this story and laugh at the way it all played out.
The moral of the story is, don't piss off your cat or he will piss on you.

Hot Dogs

So in light of last week’s uber serious post, I thought I’d let you know how irreverent our lives typically are.

The scene: Husband and I were going to go to grab dinner last weekend, but instead we drove past the movie theater and decided to abandon our previous plan and instead see a movie (LOOK MOM, I’M BEING SPONTANEOUS). On our way to the movie we concur that dinner will have to be composed of popcorn, candy and soda. No complaints here. So there we are in the concession stand line when I decided to get a hot dog too. We were already spending more on food than on the movie, what was one more item. That is when Husband added commentary regarding my choice.

Husband: you really love your hot dogs (I’m sure this was husband making a bad pun but I choose to ignore it.)

Me: I do! Why do you think hot dogs get such a bad rap? I mean, people talk about how they are made up of lips and assholes. I get that they aren’t made from the prime cuts of beef or pork, but who cares? Isn’t it important to not waste? Because I think hot dogs are a good use of the ‘other stuff’. Besides, they TASTE GOOD. Seriously, why do people hate on hot dogs so much?

Husband: that sounds like a blog post.

What's going on?

Ok, I know I haven’t written anything in very many weeks. There is a reason behind this. I had previously decided not to write about a specific topic. It turns out that so much of my energy has been focused on this that nothing else has seemed blog-worthy. So I’m just going to change my mind and write about it (with hubs permission of course)

Behind the closed doors of our house, hubs and I have been working diligently towards a common goal – to have a baby. We purposefully haven’t announced this to the world for several reasons 1) It ruins the fun/surprise when you do announce you’re pregnant 2) It’s private 3) We don’t want to set any expectations. In other words people watching what you drink or answering every phone call from you with baited breath. 4) I was scared to admit that it was something I wanted, afraid to be labeled “baby crazy” and desperate.

Well guess what? 1) Expectations are set the minute you say ‘I do’. 2) People know no boundaries and have no problem asking about your family planning situation. I’m not talking about family. I’m talking about the acquaintance that knows you through your husband and interrogates you about why you aren’t pregnant yet. This topic alone has some blog-worthy content. Besides, when have I ever been private? 3) It will always be a surprise. 4) I have to stop caring what others think. It is something I want.

I have been very private about this, and I’m not sure why. I am usually the first to open up and share my story. But, you know what? I’m done trying to make this process/journey into what I think it should be and take it for what it is.

This blog post is sadly not about our success. It is, instead, about my monthly failure struggle. Even though there are tears in my eyes as I type and cross out that word, I’m leaving it in. I KNOW I haven’t failed at anything, but it sure as hell FEELS that way (so far).

There are days that it feels like one of the hardest emotionally personal struggles I’ve encountered. Yesterday was one of those days. Through it all, my Husband has been my saving grace. Just yesterday as I was silently crying in my cube at work, he called to remind me how much he loves me. He constantly makes my heart smile in spite of how down I may be. While the husband makes me smile, Biscuit lets me cry. She is my champion. I can’t count the number of times I’ve showed up in tears on her doorstep.

One of the things I have trouble reconciling is how selfish it feels-so focused on our goal, our family.

There are also days when I let go of the pity and focus on the positive. I have faith that things happen for a reason. Ultimately it will work out. Luckily these days outnumber the former.

Anyways I am putting this out there. Why? Because I need to embrace the situation and find new ways of dealing/laughing/being inspired by it. Maybe now that I’ve opened the door, I won’t be as daunted to share, be it funny, interesting, depressing or exciting. There have defiantly been many blog-worthy situations along the way. There is an unconfirmed account that Husband actually peed on a pregnancy test to “see what would happen”.

So that's what's going on with me.

Crafts take two...

Remember Crafty Crap? In case you forgot, read here.

Oh what a difference a year makes. I finally accomplished crocheting scarves that were straight and (mostly) error free. This year I decided that I would tackle the 'granny square'.

First I must tell you how every friend, person, instructional website, stranger on the street and Sammy told me that granny squares are the easiest thing to learn. I must be an idiot because it was NOT the easiest. Maybe it's because I'm self taught.Andthe crochet vernacular was just too confusing: single crochet, double crochet, half double crochet (isn't that a single crochet), chain stitch, and more.

I have no idea what I taught myself when i made the scarves, but it was the reason I couldn't grasp the granny square. I finally devoted an evening to watching instructional you-tube videos, yarn in hand.


Ok, ok, now I get it. I see why people say this is easy. Check out my first granny square blanket or Lapgan (afghan sized for your lap). When I took this picture, it wasn't completely done. You can see that Sammy thought she was going to be the model for this photo shoot - not this time baby girl.



I am really proud of this. The only problem was the size. I love the colors and the yarn texture so much, I might go back and make it bigger.

I proudly took my craft accomplishment to Biscuit's to show off. She immediately put it on her couch to show me how GOOD it looked right there in her house.  Sorry Biscuit, I'm keeping this one.

Giving Back

The other day I was participating in a community message board and someone mentioned being a bone marrow donor. Now this is something I’ve always wanted to do. If there is something in me that could save another's life with little risk to myself, why wouldn't I offer it up?
At that moment I decided to read up on joining the registry to become a donor here.

After reading all about it, I went home to talk to Husband about my desire to join the registry. If I did get selected as a donor, I’d need support and I wanted to make sure he was on board.

He was pretty skeptical.

I was pretty passionate.

With his support, I signed up.

About a week later a kit came in the mail for me to swab my cheek and mail my DNA submission to the larger database.

From what I read, there is a slim likelihood that I will be contacted. The majority of the donors are Caucasian, while the need is stronger for those with a more diverse genetic code.

The reason I’m telling you all this is 1) in case you ever want to clone me, you can get my DNA from these people 2) so you can encourage others to consider joining the registry 3) because I don’t have anything else to write about and would normally keep this to myself…

Speaking of giving back, I believe I told you about my involvement with Women For Women International here. I’m proud to announce that Ms. Change Laraba has graduated! My new sister that I am sponsoring is in Kosovo. She started her training in December and will graduate in November of 2011. I strongly believe in this organization and believe in what they are doing. Please check it out if you haven't already.

Also, see the link below for the book that speaks to what the organization is trying to do.

Happy Anniversary!

Monday marks my 2nd wedding anniversary. It makes it sound like we are still newlyweds, when in fact we've been dating since 2002 and living together since 2005. We are long past young love. That isn't a bad thing, our relationship has grown much stronger and deeper over the years.

This year, by our anniversary, my goal was to FINALLY finish the wedding album. It arrived yesterday in the mail, but we are waiting to open it together this weekend. I actually am glad I waited this long to assemble the album. It was a fun exercise to piece together all the details, sift through the photos and carefully select the best representatives. In cause you are new to my blog (sarcasm) here and here are my blog posts detailing our wedding day.

It was a great day, but it has been an even better two years. To my better half - I love you.

My vows:
"From this day forward, I promise to try to be the best partner I can be for you.

I will be tender with you when you’re troubled, laugh with you when you’re funny, conspire with you when your mischievous and be your strength when you wane. I will care for you, be patient with you, sing your joys and always be a constant reflection of our love.
From this day forward, I will cherish you. I will look down the path of our tomorrow's, and find peace and happiness knowing we will walk it together, side by side, hand in hand, heart to heart."
 

January

And it's here.....

That awful time of year when the cold has permeated into my bones so deep that they are frozen. There is no amount of heat, layers, blankets, or hells fury that could thaw my bones. When I'm warm, it's only a surface warmth. Deep down the chill has taken over and settled in.

The deep freeze has even clouded my demeanor. Be nice to my Husband this time of year, because chances are I'm not.

On top of the cold, the lack of sunshine exacerbates the problem. Even if I did get out of my cube before sunset, chances are the clouds would take prison hold that precious vitamin D hostage. For everyone's sake and my own sanity, here's hoping for a short winter.