baby number 1

pregnancy recap

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

*after reading this post, I realize it would be much more exciting if I’d uploaded some pics to help tell the story.  Well….that would take time.  And time is something I don’t have much of.  If I get around to uploading them, I’ll post a link in a newer blog. Deal?*

Like I mentioned before, I found out I was pregnant with Theo super early…4 weeks and 1 day.  So the first trimester that I couldn’t tell anyone dragged on and on.  I remember early signs or symptoms such as suddenly having to pee all the time, my boobs got big and sore, and there were a few days of crampiness and spotting right after I found out and that scared the crap out of me.  It turned out okay, as I ended up getting a couple extra ultrasounds out of it and heard his heart beat for the first time at 6 weeks. 

The 12 week appointment was kind of fun because we got to see his little arms and legs on the ultrasound and afterwards, I paraded around my office with the printouts.  There was one perfect picture of his tiny hand where his thumb was 90 degrees from his pointer finger like an “L.” Right then was when I knew he was gonna be super cute.

At 14+ weeks we had a bunch of stupid genetic testing done, because I thought if something was wrong with my baby, I wanted time to plan and prepare for it.  Reasons that was a dumb idea: 1) It’s not like I would have aborted it regardless  2) It was too late and the results weren’t even reliable 3) It ended up costing us $600+ out of pocket because it wasn’t medically necessary. 

At 18 weeks, we found out our little munchkin was a boy.  The ultrasound tech said at 14 weeks that she thought she saw a penis but it could have just been the cord in the way so she wouldn’t commit to her hunch with any certainty.  I figured it was a boy, but I don’t know if it was becuase of some motherly instinct or if it was because I secretly hoped to have a girl first.  Okay, not so secretly.  When we found out it was a boy, I don’t think either of us were surprised.  Happy either way, but not surprised.  I was just glad to finally know SOMETHING about the baby so I could start planning and buying stuff.

I started showing aroung 16 or 17 weeks.  Man, was I impatient.  I wanted that cute belly like crazy.  Too bad there’s a period of about 2 months where you just look fat, not pregnant.  I don’t know how cute it was when it showed up, but it did.  I think I was 18 weeks and 5 days when I felt what I knew for sure were kicks.  It was so cute – I was sitting on the couch, using the laptop and I felt some flutters.  I yelled at Theo’s daddy and he came running in and put his hand on my belly, thinking he would be able to feel him too.  I was closer to 22 weeks when he was able to, but that was kind of a fluke.  He wasn’t able to feel much again until 24 – 26 weeks.

Heartburn developed around 24 weeks and lingered with me throughout the pregnancy.  The first time I had it, I thought I must be dying.  For people who get heartburn all the time, pregnant or not…oh man.  Your life sucks.  I’d never had heartburn before and it felt like my throat was closing up to where I couldn’t breathe.  It was hot and painful and made my eyes water.  It subsided after 10-15 seconds, but often came back multiple times.  Sometimes what I ate seemed to make a difference, but towards the end, it didn’t matter much at all.  Tums and Zantac were my BFFs for awhile.

The belly was definitely getting big by 28 weeks, which was the week of Christmas.  I had my 2 hour glucose tolerance test that week and the 3 hour test at 30 weeks, then my result…BIG FAT FAIL.  I will write another blog on Gestational Diabetes, but from there on out, I was on a strict diet and was checking my blood sugar 4x a day.  Ick.

Also around 30 weeks, I went into major freakout mode because all we had in the baby’s room was furniture and a few clothes.  No carseat, no stroller, no mattress, no changing pad, diapers, etc.  Nothing!  And no baby showers were scheduled yet so I was nervous about lots of things.  Then, everything magically fell into place.

I had a baby shower at 34 weeks and another one at 35 weeks. I am still astounded by everyone’s generosity.  We barely bought anything in Theo’s room.  In fact, I can look around his room today and identify pretty much every item in there and who it was a gift from.  The only big purchases we made were his furniture and bouncy seat. 

After Theo was born, we traveled 7+ hours (it’s supposed to take 5) to my mom’s, where she threw Theo a book party.  Since we already had everything we needed, mom asked everyone to bring a favorite children’s book with an inscription.

My husband’s work threw him a “diaper shower” so everyone brought a pack or a box of diapers.  My sweet cousin, who works at a hospital, can get diapers at a discount so she has given us TONS of them.  I’m happy to say that we have only bought diapers at the store ONE time in over 6 months…in case you didn’t know, that’s pretty awesome!

To date, I have sent out over 80 thank you cards (and I still have a short list of names on the dry erase board of people I still need to send them to).  So overwhelmed by the love!

I remember around 34 or 35 weeks thinking “what’s wrong with people? Being pregnant’s not so bad!”  I had heard so many people talking about being DONE with pregnancy and taking all sorts of measures to try to coax their bodies into labor.  I was in no hurry.  I figured that I was a lot less busy than I would be after the baby was born, not to mention the physical discomfort I would be experiencing after giving birth!

That mindset changed pretty rapidly once I hit 36 or 37 weeks.  Everything was uncomfortable.  Sitting. Standing. Lying down.  Showering. Eating. Using the bathroom. Tying my shoes.  Everything.  Every day was a day when I couldn’t imagine being pregnant for another 24 hours.  Each week felt like a lifetime.  Ooof, that was rough. 

At my 38 week appointment, the doctor suggested an induction the following Monday, which was the day I would reach 39 weeks.  After asking a million questions, we agreed and started reciting Theo’s birthday in our heads.  March 8th … it has a nice ring to it.  🙂

One thing I liked about the timing of my pregnancy was the weather.  It gets damn cooooold in the midwest for several months at a time.  While the winter wasn’t too extreme last year, the coldest parts of the winter were towards the very end of my pregnancy…January and February.  I became so hot-natured that I would have to go stand outside in 10 degree weather after blow drying my hair.  Everyone else would be freezing and I was comfortable for a change.  I can’t imagine being hugely pregnant through the summer.  For anyone who has endured it…props to you. 

Soooo, anyway…I went to the hospital on Sunday, March 7th to start the induction process, but that’s a story for another day!

Have a great weekend, ya’ll!

~C~

any excuse to go to Cheesecake Factory

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

I’ve talked before about the day after our 6th wedding anniversay and how special it was, because it was the day we got our BFP (big fat positive, in case you missed it).  That morning, I couldn’t hardly believe my eyes (which were still fuzzy with sleep and blurry with no vision correction), but at the same time, I knew exactly what I saw.  It was nothing out of the ordinary for me to take a pregnancy test as soon as I possibly could, more or less to put the anticipation of not knowing one way or the other out of my mind.  That fateful morning, I saw 2 lines.  I tried to think of ways that a false positive could have happened while I took a shower.  I think I smiled the whole time I was in the shower because I knew better. 

(not me.  or my pregnancy test. just for effect)

When I got out of the shower, I called my sweet husband into the bathroom and tried to look confused.  I told him I wasn’t wearing my contacts and asked him if the test looked like it was showing one line or two.  He looked at it and said assertively “two.”  I continued playing dumb and asked him to look at the instructions to see what two lines meant.  He looked at the instructions, then at the stick, then at me, and repeated that cycle about three times.  By the third go-round, I’m pretty sure I had a huge grin on my face and we started hugging and laughing.  Neither one of us could believe that we finally got what we had wanted so desperately for the last several months. 

That day was possibly one of the worst days for me at work, but I handled it with grace.  Nothing could spoil my good mood.  After work, I took another pregnancy test, which turned positive immediately, and that was reason enough to go to Cheesecake Factory.

We kept our little secret to ourselves for about 24 hours…the next morning (after I did one more test, just to be sure), I started making phone calls to my family and very best friends.  That night we told my in-laws over dinner and surprised them, as they didn’t know that we were trying.  Surprising people was one of the funnest (jury’s still out…is funnest a word?) parts of getting that BFP. 

We waited to announce our news to acquaintances, Facebook, our employers, etc. until we got the thumbs up from the doctor at my 12 week check up.  Truth be told, I was terribly afraid that I would miscarry.  I was pessimistic after trying for several months to conceive and afraid that whatever made it take so long might also create a hostile environment for our little embryo.  I tried not to get attached to the idea of the baby – pretty tough thing to attempt.  The anxiety let up after 12 weeks and we were happy to share our news with the world.

That 8 weeks from the time we found out until the time we were able to shout it out was undoubtedly the longest part of my pregnancy.  I wanted so bad to be able to tell everyone and to look pregnant, because I certainly felt pregnant.  I don’t know why people say pregnancy feels like it lasts forever…overall, I thought it zoomed by in a flash.  Good thing too, because I remember feeling quite miserable towards the end.

I guess that’s a story for another day.  Hope your day is a good one!

~C~

does BD mean Baby Dance or Bed Down?

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

Just wondering, because there are so many acronyms that you learn when you obsess over having a baby… anyway…

Before we were even married in 2003, DH (dear husband) and I had a ten year plan.  I don’t think we ever called it that, but we had talked about how we hoped things would play out.  I would graduate from college in 2 years.  We would start trying for a baby in 4 years, and deliver that bouncing bundle of joy in no more than 5 years, and so on and so forth…

Well, it took 4 years to graduate from college.  When we had been married four years, I had been at my job for 2 months and wouldn’t qualify for FMLA unless I worked there for 1 year at the time the baby was born.  Even then, I didn’t feel right getting pregnant at the same time I was just getting my feet wet with my new social work-y, super stressful job.  Not to mention the fact that we. just. weren’t. ready.

After 5 years, we started talking about it and decided that we would start TTC (trying to conceive) in the Fall of ’08, because, well, wouldn’t it be lovely to give birth in the Summer of ’09?  We could put little sunbonnets on our newborn baby and life would be all daisies and butterflies.

The Fall of ’08 rolled around and I heard about an Aflac disability policy that would mean I could get paid a nice little chunk of change for my maternity leave, so I signed up.  Problem:  You could give birth no less than 10 months after the policy activated.  Of course, to be safe, it seemed like the responsible (and non-money-wasting) thing to do to wait 2 months instead of 1, just in case said baby was born 4 weeks early.  Because naturally, I was going to conceive the very first try.

With the way things worked out, we ended up not being able or ready to start ttc until late November 2008.  Not too shabby…just in time for that Summer ’09 babe.  I had thought of all kinds of cute ways to announce at Christmas to the in-laws and my family that we were expecting and knock their baby booties off with the surprise.  Two days before Christmas… AF (aunt Flo).  And of course she was 4 days late, just to be a wench.

No big deal, must have just been a fluke.  Our timing was off or something.  You know, because, you’ve spent your ENTIRE adult life trying NOT to get pregnant so it seems like the first time you have totally unprotected sex, BOOM!  Knocked up.  Uh uh.

January:  BFN (big fat negative), AF showed up
February:  lots of BFNs because AF didn’t show up at all
March: BFN, AF.
April: BFN, AF.
May: BFN, AF.
June: BFN, AF.  And lots of crying because it had been 7 months since we started TTC and nothing.  This was supposed to be easy.  It’s what a woman’s body is biologically created to do, right?  Six unsuccessful cycles and trust me, we weren’t just “winging it,” we were taking advantage of just about every product on the market that is intended to increase fertility and chances of getting that ever-evasive BFP (getting the hang of this?). 

I researched fertility on the internet.  I talked to my doctor.  I read forums and Yahoo! Answers.  I bought books about fertility.  And then a friend bought me the book Taking Charge of Your Fertility, which is all about charting your ass off and taking your temperature every day, etc.  I won’t go into the ooey gooey (heh heh) details of it all, but I started charting.  Coincidence or not, I don’t know, but …

July ’09: BFP!!!!

The day we found out was the day after our 6th wedding anniversary and I kicked myself for not obsessively taking the test the day before I was technically supposed to, like I had every month before.  I was in shock and disbelief.

It was 8 months from the time we started trying until we got that BFP and it felt like a lifetime.  Every month was full of anticipation and heartbreak, followed by growing feelings of desperation.  And we were still in the “normal” range of how long it takes a couple to conceive.  I cannot imagine struggling with fertility for years on end like some folks we have known.  I was already trying to decide if fertility treatments were in our future and if that was the road we would choose if we were unable to conceive on our own.  I had received some disappointing news from my doctor when I had labs done and had begun to give up.  Already….after 6 unsuccessful cycles!  I feel for those who have to try for a long time to get pregnant, because once you have that desire in your heart, you can’t turn it off.

My pregnancy story to come at a later date…

~C~