8 weeks

I wish I knew how to eliminate the shadow by my face :(

We had our 8 week ultrasound yesterday.  It's amazing to see how much you've grown in only 2 weeks, little one!  You look less like a lima bean and more like a teddy graham or gummy bear.  Daddy says you look like a boy.

What a blessing to be able to see your flickering heart and to hear it's strong beat...Music to our ears.  This appointment was strictly for an u/s, which was at the request of my RE back in NJ, since IVF mamas generally aren't released to regular OB/GYNS so soon.  Our ultrasound tech was so friendly...seems to be the trend out here in the mid-west.  I'm not complaining.   She was actually the one who suggested we take a video of the heartbeat.

I also had one of the nurses, who was equally as sweet, take a look at my backside since my injection sites are recently super sore, bruised, and even swollen.  My hypochondriac self was fearing I had an abscess or something and was going to go into septic shock.  I know, I know.  I can be a little dramatic sometimes.  I'm pretty sure giving myself the injections last week since Paul was away was the cause for my hurting hiney.  The nurse said I was more than welcome to come in every morning and have one of them administer the shot.  Seriously?  So sweet.  And considering Paul is gone Monday-Thursday, I may just take them up on that offer!

I'm feeling pretty much the same as I've felt since week 6.  Nauseous, but not terribly.  Just a queasy, nothing sounds appealing sort of upset stomach.  I've learned that if I stay on top of eating, it isn't as bad.  The only problem is finding something that sounds appetizing.  Just like with Elena, I have no desire for my once beloved morning coffee.  The thought of it actually repulses me.  Instead, I have to have a nice cold glass of OJ.  I've been surviving on carbs for the most part and anything that I used to eat as a twelve year old.  Think bagel bites, Apple Jacks, Sour Patch Kids, and Pop Tarts. I'm praying that I start craving salads or protein soon.  I gained 37 lbs with Elena, and would like to aim for 25-30lbs with this pregnancy, which is the recommendation for my BMI.  Gulp. 

Unlike my pregnancy with Elena, this time I am extremely exhausted.  Like no energy whatsoever.  Sloth.  Waste of space.  Lazy piece of shit, basically.  It's a chore to do most anything. I thank my lucky stars my child sleeps through the nighT, generally until 8:30.  I'm not dealing well with the lack of ambition and motivation.  Maybe it's having a toddler to keep up with?  I don't know.  I'm hoping that burst of energy meets up with me at the start of my 2nd trimester! At least it's the winter so I don't feel as guilty doing nothing but staying in the house and playing all day. 

Overall, I am just feeling incredibly blessed and thankful.  So grateful that this FET worked and so beyond excited that Elena is going to be a big sister.  All of our immediate family and close friends know, and of course you all...my favorite internet strangers!  We look forward to 12 weeks when we'll share our news with the rest of our extended family and friends.  Paul has been dying to tell some of his work peeps.  He is so excited.

Really excited to be able to document and share this pregnancy on my blog.  It makes me sad that I didn't do the same for Elena, but my heart and mind were a lot more fragile and fearful at that time, as I shared in this post about how we make babies.  

That's all for now.  I'll get to meet my OB for the first time on the 24th at my 10 week appointment. 
Looking forward to it...so far, I'm really liking the practice that I chose. 

On Breastfeeding: A letter to my baby

When I was pregnant with Elena I worried that I wouldn't be able to breastfeed her.  I had always known I'd wanted to breastfeed, and perhaps because getting pregnant was such a struggle, I just assumed everything that came along with pregnancy would be difficult, too.  Breastfeeding included.

In any case, it was a legitimate worry in those months leading up to her birth. I can remember squeezing my nipples in the shower hoping that some breast milk would come squirting out, and panicking slightly when it didn't, no matter how hard I tried.  I prayed, actually prayed to God to allow me to be able to nurse my child.  It was important to me.  

I remember the moment that I pulled Elena onto my body immediately after she was born.  All the fear that had built up inside me about being a new mother washed away.  At that exact moment in time it was as if I was fulfilling the role I was always meant to have.  There was no fear.  No worry.   No "what do I do now?"  Those first moments of meeting her in the flesh are the most precious moments of my life.  Laying her on my bare chest and seeing this sheer miracle of life rooting her little rosebud lips to find my breast, well, it was beauty in it's purest form. All that worry seemed for naught.

I'm eternally grateful to my sister-in-law who photographed Elena's entire birth and captured those first tender moments of us together once she had arrived.  I cherish them.   Having the pictures of my sweet little babe latching on for the first time will always be a treasure.  

I wanted to remember the last time as beautifully and clear as I remembered the first.  On the evening after our last "milkie" I wrote this in my phone.  I'm finally getting around to transcribing it here.

 ***Written on 10.14.12.  A letter to my baby.  My little love. ***

511 days I nursed you.  Just a week shy of your 17 month birthday.  Could we have gone longer?  Yes.  Did we go longer than I thought we'd be able to?  Yes.  Did we keep at is as long as I'd hoped?  Indeed.  I'm proud of us, little girl.  So proud.  

At this point, we were down to just one milkie session a day.  First thing in the morning.  It was the last session to go because it was your favorite.  The one you asked for and cherished.  Me too, little girl.  Me too.  Nothing filled my mama heart more than having you reach for me as soon I walked into your room-sleep still in your eyes and baby's breath filling the room.  Your crazy hair, wild from last night's sleep.  I will miss this.  Our special bond.  Our quiet cuddle time.  It filled me up and made me feel necessary and relevant. 

I had hoped to stop when you were ready.  Are you, my sweet love?  I don't know.  It's not on your time- our stopping- and that hurts Mama's heart.  You cried this morning when I told you there was no more milkie as you pulled at my shirt and feverishly signed please and milk.  That broke my heart, sweet girl.  But, that shattered heart grew two times in size with love and pride when you finally settled to take some milk from a sippy cup.  You are such a big girl and my heart swells every time your independence shines.   

I'm sure our milkie time was more out of comfort than nutrition at this point.  Though I know you still reaped the benefits of whatever mama's milk you got.  My breasts are full and heavy now if that is any indication that my milk was, in some regards, plentiful.  Even this far along, I still felt the "let down" sensation and will miss it.  Waiting for it.  Expecting it.  That rush of endorphins.  The high of knowing I was filling you up with goodness and nurturing your physical being and your emotional little self, too.  

I had always hated my breasts before you, little girl.  They weren't big enough, or sometimes too big depending on what I was wanting to wear.  They weren't as perky as my 20-something boobs and dammit if my areolas weren't the size of silver dollars!  But nursing you?  Man.  That was a game changer in terms of how I felt about my girls.  I am thankful for them.  Proud of them.  In awe of all that they have accomplished and overcome in 17 months of motherhood.  It wasn't always easy and we had our obstacles from latching issues to a nursing strike.

I have never really felt crazy passionate about something.  Until breastfeeding.  Plenty of people-most in fact-though it was less than normal for you to still be nursing.  Don't even get me started on that, BooBoo.  I could get all La Leche League on their assses.  I would feed you anywhere.  Anytime.  In fact, I probably did.  Always using a cover or blanket if we were in public.  Not because I'm against just whipping them out, but because I'm a modest gal of sorts and that is what was comfortable for me.  

One of the craziest places I ever nursed you was when we were driving on one of our 10 hour car rides between NJ and OH.  I unbuckled myself, climbed in the backseat, and hovered over you in the carseat for you to nurse.  Not the safest for Mama, I know.  I would have proudly breast fed you longer.  In fact, I wanted to at least nurse you until your 2nd birthday, but it was time for Mommy and Daddy to start trying to get your a brother or a sister.  And, with IVF there are lots of medicines that wouldn't be safe for you, my love.  So this is what we had to do.  Our approach was slow- eliminating one session every two weeks and I hope that it helps to make this transition easier on you.

I couldn't have made it this far without the love and support of Daddy.  He really surprised me with his support of extended breastfeeding.  He isn't a self-proclaimed hippie type like Mommy.  At all.  But he adored the bond it fostered between us.  You and I.  And he loved that it was the magic panacea for pretty much anything that ailed you.  Mommy and her magic boobies.  I will miss that.  My boobies sure were great problem solvers.  Daddy was known to say- "Give her the boooooob!" He's so silly.  

But now, as you advance into toddlerhood, I'll look forward to all the new ways we can grow together and bond.  You're such a busy bee and are so excited about the world.  Luckily we won't be at a loss for things to do to keep us going.  And when you reach for me and pull at my shirt, clearly in your language of wanting milkie, I will offer you comfort with all the mommy love and kisses and squeezes you need.  I won't let go baby until you tell me to.  

I hope you'll still let me hold you like my baby and rock you.  So I can stroke your hair and trace my fingers over your cheeks and perfect little nose, taking in every square inch of the miracle that is you.  Nursing you became so much more than feeding you.  It filled you up, but I think it filled me up just as much.  Thank you, my sweet love, for all that you are and all that you've allowed me to become as your mother.  Thank you for giving me a confidence and strength I never knew I possessed.  We've got this gig down, girlfriend.  I can't wait for all the wonder and joy that awaits us.  Together. 

So What! Wednesday

This week I'm saying So What! if....

I'm experiencing such crazy fatigue with this pregnancy that I could lay  down in the middle of Time Square and easily catch a quick nap.

I think Taylor from RHOBH's mouth is the scariest thing I've ever seen.  I literally have to look away when the camera focuses on her.  I mean, honestly, it saddens me the lengths people go to in order to look "beautiful."  

I've started the naughty corner/time out with Elena because she thinks it's hysterical to pinch my cheeks really hard.  She was either an old great aunt in her past life or she's  dominating the terrible twos a little early. 

Doing nothing is all I think about lately.  That and disgusting, processed carbs. 

I feel really bad about myself for being such a sloth.  But hey, I'm incubating a human, right???

I left the house to go to Target today and realized I hadn't brushed my teeth.  Really???

I have no shame is proudly professing my love of the Bachelor.  I will continue to look forward to this train wreck of a season every week.  

I get embarrassed watching my favorite reality shows and sometimes hide my face behind my hands even when I'm alone. 

I came home from the grocery store with these items: Strawberry frosted Pop Tarts, Apple Jacks, Bagel Bites, Kraft Mac n' Cheese, frozen soft pretzels.  Clearly I'm twelve again.

I haven't written out Christmas thank you notes yet.  My mother is rolling over in her grave, I'm sure.

I'm over the moon happy because Elena is finally having somewhat of a language explosion.  She's starting to repeat words we say and offer up words when she sees something she knows.  Makes my heart melt.

I haven't done a weekly bump update yet.  Still just so nervous.  Have my 8 week ultrasound Friday and then I'll get to clogging your feeds with baby news.

I got a follow request on Instagram from a blog crush and I got all geeky excited.

I recently removed my blog url from my Instagram profile since in real life randoms and extended family don't know I'm pregnant yet.  Only internet strangers, of course.  Duh. 

I'm impressed I was able to come up with so many so whats.  Slacker, whooooo?

Excited to see what you are all so whatting! this week...Thanks for stopping by!

Not sure what happened to the end of 2012, but I'm back.

Hard to believe that it's a week into the New Year and I'm just coming around.  Blogging fell by the wayside when we home in NJ for the holidays.  Not spending a single day of the month of December in my own home really threw my schedule and routine for a loop.  Not to mention the whole getting pregnant thing was time consuming and stressful.  Oh yeah, and the holidays happened.  In any case, I'm glad that I focused more on family and friends than my social media vices.  It feels good to be back, though.

Stay tuned for belated Christmas and New Year posts, even though I  did a pretty poor job of documenting our month home.  I blame it on the ridiculous fatigue that I've been feeling.  I was just too tired. That makes me sad but it is what it is and I'm not gonna beat myself up over it. 

I rang in 2013 with a hacking cough and an overall feeling of crappiness, but am so thankful that it didn't develop into anything worse.  Unfortunately, my little love was not spared.  She's come down with a nasty cold...only the second one she's had.  Productive cough, runny nose, gunky eyes.  Breaks my heart to see her sick, though you'd never know it by her attitude and energy, which radiate even when she's under the weather.  

Sick baby snuggles.

The upside to the toddler sickies are the increased toddler snuggles, which this mama does not mind. 

We're hoping the biggest baby of them all {ahem, Paul} doesn't get sick next.  He's traveling this week so at least he'll get a break from the germs and hopefully will come home to two healthy girls.  

Once we're out of the sick ward I'm planning to get back into my groove here.  Lots of things to talk about....Baby #2 news, weekly updates, holiday recap, some new recipes, Pinterest creations, and a whole lot of all the little things.

Santa Baby...Then and Now

We did a lot of prep for this, ya know.  Pointing out every Santa we saw to familiarize her with this fat jolly bearded  stranger.   Santa "drive bys" at every single mall we've visited since the North Pole invaded for the season.  I even bought her a life size (toddler life size, anyway) Santa balloon from the grocery store, hoping they'd be fast friends.  

Much different than my approach last year.  You know,  for first year Santa pictures. 

Last year was a breeze.  We tortured her by changing her in the middle of the mall because I didn't want her dress to wrinkle in the car seat (puhleeeaze...first time mom shit right there).  She hardly complained.  We waited on line for an hour.  She was a peach.  We plopped our roly-poly on Santa's lap and it was like love at first sight---full out tugging on his beard and all smiles for the camera.  

And this year, well...

She was all "Hiii Santa" with her cute open/close wave when we were next in line.  Clearly my month of planning was successful.  For a fleeting moment I thought we had a chance.  But really? Deep down in my mama gut?  I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would have no part in sitting on his lap willingly, let alone with a smile. 

And really? 

I was secretly hoping for the token get-me-the-hell-off-this-fluffball's lap picture.  And I got it.  Complete with screamfest 2012 and a clear shot of back molars for the win.  #success


Merry Christmas!

Grieving for the grieving

I keep pushing this post aside because, honestly, I'm not even sure how to tackle it. Not even sure I feel okay with sharing my own emotions as they are so trivial in comparison to those that have lost their loved ones.  Those that have been directly affected.  But I  needed to give a voice to my feelings and emotions.  And I know in my own times of grief and heartache, the shared collectiveness of others who grieved for me, helped to heal me. 

I have a million things on my mind.  All things I want to blog about and share.  All of which seem, right now, like fluff.  Of course these things are important and relevant in my life, but in the face of what has happened in Connecticut, my thinking has shifted to heavier things.  Things that I couldn't *not* talk about.  Baby bumpdates and Christmas cards can wait. 

I cannot begin to imagine, for even a fraction of a second, the guttural pain and anguish the parents of the Sandy Hook shooting victims are feeling.  I just.  can.  not.

I'm usually one to sit glued to the television when tragedies are unfolding.  When JFK Jr. died in the plane crash, you couldn't peel me away.  September 11th, as we awaited news on a family member, I watched in utter horror and disbelief.  For days.  And days.  And days.  Jason never came home.  And as a 10 year old I remember watching Baby Jessica being rescued from the well.  My anxieties skyrocketed and I couldn't sleep, but I also wouldn't stop watching. 

This tragedy?  This unspeakable, heinous, heartbreaking tragedy?  I cannot.  Cannot bring myself to watch it unfold on television.  The moments I have watched left me on my knees, in front of my child, choking on tears. 

The children.  Those little babies.  I can only rest in knowing they are with Our Father now.  Safe and sound and unafraid.  But to think of them in those last moments of their fragile, innocent, barely begun lives fractures my heart into a million splinters each and every time.  And their parents?  My mama heart just can't go there.  I can't. 

Just hours before the shooting, I had been at my 4 year old nieces Christmas show at her pre-school.   After, when I saw the news I couldn't help but imagine if a crazed gunman had opened fire in the Church auditorium as the little lambs and angles and shepherds sang of Jesus' birth.  How unsafe we can all be at any given moment even in the safest town.  Doing the safest things.  Watching a Christmas pageant.  Going to school.  How when you say goodbye to your child as you usher them off to school, you never in your wildest imagination could fathom never seeing them again.  

I cannot stop thinking of the principal, the school psychologist, and the heroic teachers of Sandy Hook Elementary who gave their lives in an attempt to protect those children.  Though it is so easy to focus solely on the children, I have been reminded of the faculty that died that day and offer my prayers for them and their grieving families.  All lives were cut too short that day. 

There are just so many elements of pain that saturate this tragedy.  I am heartbroken for the families.  Absolutely devastated as I imagine being in their shoes.  It wrecks me.  So though I may not be immersing myself in the news, I have been faithful in my prayers.  I have whispered their names up to God.  Each of those babies' names.  

It is unimaginable to me as I hear the journalists on TV talk of healing.  How will this town heal?  The parents and families of the victims?  I'm not sure.  All I am sure of in this moment is that I will pray for that healing to come.  Pray for the families and the community. Hug my own family tighter.  My daughter.  Give thanks one night at a time that she is here for me to hold and love and enjoy.

God bless the souls of those that were lost and the lives of those that live to pick up the pieces. 

So What! Wednesday

This week I'm saying So What! if...

You all know I'm pregnant before most of my in real life people.

I cannot stop peeing on sticks to confirm that there are still, indeed, two pink lines.  

I have spent a fortune on the above addiction habit and can. not. stop.  I have limited myself to two a day.  Starting tomorrow.

I think Al Roker looked better when he was fat.  

I haven't sat down to address my Christmas cards yet.  I am totally procrastinating.  Any volunteers?

I went through the McDonald's drive-thru today and ordered a two cheeseburger meal.  Hold everything but the cheese.  One for me.  One for Elena.  And we ate in the car. 

I am not even 4 weeks pregnant and am feeling queasy.  And this excites me.  Morning sickness...bring it! 

I think it's cool that tomorrow (today, by now) is 12.12.12.  I like numbers.  This does not mean I am good at Math.  I suck at math. 

I can't believe it's been a year since we decided to treat Elena with the DOC Band.  I miss that cute little helmet head of mine!

I'm kind of scared of my child's behavior as of late.  I don't know if it's the terrible 2's, her eye teeth, being away from the routine of home, or if it's just her already feisty/stubborn/independent personality gaining strength, but she has been giving me a run for my money lately.

I hate sleeping with socks on, but my room at my Aunt's (where we're staying while home in NJ) is above the garage and is so cold I have to.  

I can't wait to hug it out with Paul and jump up and down to celebrate those two pink lines. He's been gone in Ohio since Saturday. 

I'm about to ugly cry like a baby while I watch Parenthood.