I have been severely lacking in mental abilities and motivation of late, which partially explains my recent online absence. The other reasons are being just flat-out tired and having guests in from out of town. A friend's daughter, who for some reason thinks we are too much fun, came and spent several days hanging out with us. She's a sweet girl, and I hope she will come back very soon. Incredibly mature for a high school sophomore, I often forget she's not an adult. Regardless, we had a good time showing her around town and introducing her to our favorite eateries.
My brother is in town from Virginia for a couple more days. He and his two grown sons stayed with us for two nights and are now over "mooching from" another sibling (his words, not mine!) till early Saturday morning, when they will load up and head back to their goat farm. Little Bit and WonderDog are moping around the house now because they are gone! And by the way, if you've never been to that part of the country, it's a trip well worth taking. The scenery is incredibly beautiful, and the weather is amazing. Not to mention the TONS of history that went on in and around there. Their house is five minutes from Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, where John Brown conducted his infamous raid during the Civil War. Great place for history buffs, to say the very least. The house where my brother & family live, and where my sister-in-law grew up, predates the Civil War and has even been designated a historical landmark. Pretty nifty, if you ask me. Alas, no one did, but this is my blog, so I get to say what I want. ;-)
One of the places Big Brother and Sons wanted to go to while here in town is a BBQ restaurant called the Salt Lick. It's an absolute dive but has the best barbecue you'll find for miles. And I do mean miles, as it is a good ways outside the city limits. It's in a dry county, so those that want beer with their beef have to bring it with them. Seriously! On weekends, if you don't arrive before 5pm, you'll easily have a minimum 2-hour wait just to sit down and look at a menu. Thing is, it's worth the wait. We took them there the last time they came to visit eight years ago, and they've been bragging on it to their Virginia cronies ever since. After eating there the other night, one of my nephews commented, "Waited eight years for that, and it was SO worth the wait." Truer words were never spoken.
We are currently preparing for Little Bit's birthday next week, as well as my sister and her husband coming in from Kentucky for several days. School starts the following week, and we found out who our teacher will be for this next year. Little Bit had a couple of teachers she hoped to get and did get one of them, so she is very excited. All through 2nd grade she prayed to get a certain 3rd grade teacher, but God said no, not this time. So I am very happy that she has a teacher she really wanted. Add to that the fact that one of her best BFF's (best friends forever, for those of you who don't have pre-teen daughters) is in her class this year, and fourth grade seems to be shaping up into a great year.
I have just over 4 weeks to go at this point, and I am SOOOOO TIRED! My brain is shot, I can't seem to focus on anything, my house is a wreck, and I can't get comfortable to save my life. Tiny Bit is her busiest at night when I would REEEEEALLY like to get some rest. Fat chance. I try to remember at those times that it will all be worth it once she gets here, but I'm not always so successful. So while I'm in the mood to grouse, I'm going to pass on an article from the good folks at WalletPop.com: their list of what they think are the 20 most annoying things done at grocery stores. It's a great list, and I agree with most of it. I've even found myself doing a few of them...most often for me is aisle blocking. My sincerest apologies to anyone I have blocked!!! Things I would add to the list? People who don't put carts back in the cart stalls provided (there's a good reason they are provided, people!!!), and pedestrians crossing the parking lot that seem to think that they don't need to hurry and get out of the way of impending traffic (SO rude!!). So go see if you agree with their list, and I'll be back next time in a better mood and better rested.
Yeah, right.
Showing posts with label update. Show all posts
Showing posts with label update. Show all posts
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
More Baby Stuff
I'm writing this shortly after reading the final blog post by Andrea at Punk Rock Mommy. It was my first time to read Andrea's blog, an online journal of her battle with breast cancer, and I am moved to tears. Her final words are beautiful, moving, and a good reminder of what's important in life. My heart rejoices with her as she is in the presence of her Maker, yet at the same time breaks for those she left behind. I look forward to meeting her one of these days when I also enter heaven. For now, I will grieve with and pray for her family.
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On a significantly lighter note, my doctor appointment this past week went, once again, very well. Since I had an emergency C-Section with Little Bit, I wanted to schedule this one. Little Bit's entry into this world was exhausting. My water broke at midnight, and after several hours of epidurals and pushing, Dr. P strongly suggested a C-section because she wasn't coming out. She was finally born at 11:42 am the next morning. Not pleasant. Tiny Bit, unless she comes sooner, is due no later than September 14th. However, she is now scheduled for her first appearance bright and early on September 9th. That means that, as of this writing, she is only 9 WEEKS AWAY. OH. MY. GOODNESS. (Panic has officially set in.) Dr. P didn't want me to go past the 14th (40 weeks), so we had to schedule it during the week prior (39 weeks). My only request was "NOT on September 11th!!!" I just couldn't saddle her with that birthday, so September 9th it is. I go back again in two more weeks, when we'll do one more sonogram. Little Bit is very excited about that, so she's going with us for this appointment.
So here I am at 31-ish weeks:
************************************************************************************
On a significantly lighter note, my doctor appointment this past week went, once again, very well. Since I had an emergency C-Section with Little Bit, I wanted to schedule this one. Little Bit's entry into this world was exhausting. My water broke at midnight, and after several hours of epidurals and pushing, Dr. P strongly suggested a C-section because she wasn't coming out. She was finally born at 11:42 am the next morning. Not pleasant. Tiny Bit, unless she comes sooner, is due no later than September 14th. However, she is now scheduled for her first appearance bright and early on September 9th. That means that, as of this writing, she is only 9 WEEKS AWAY. OH. MY. GOODNESS. (Panic has officially set in.) Dr. P didn't want me to go past the 14th (40 weeks), so we had to schedule it during the week prior (39 weeks). My only request was "NOT on September 11th!!!" I just couldn't saddle her with that birthday, so September 9th it is. I go back again in two more weeks, when we'll do one more sonogram. Little Bit is very excited about that, so she's going with us for this appointment.
So here I am at 31-ish weeks:
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Baby News
I had hoped to have a belly picture to post last week after my doctor appointment, but as so often occurs, life gets in the way and it didn't happen. I am on the every-two-week plan now--THE HOME STRETCH!!!--and go in again this Thursday (or today, by the time most of you read this), so I will once again attempt to post a picture at that time. My last appointment went very well, and God used it to encourage me in a rather shallow area of my life.
Before I tell you how good God was to me last week, I need to give you a tidbit of information about my pregnancies. I have been pregnant only two times in my life. Both times happened shortly after I had slimmed down somewhat. Prior to Little Bit, I had lost 15 pounds; before Tiny Bit, I had gone down two sizes. I figured God could've used better timing and let me enjoy my slightly more svelte self a while longer, but ultimately who am I to tell Him what to do? So with both pregnancies I have tried to not focus on that, but rather be grateful for the privilege of getting to be a mommy. I haven't been so good at it this time around.
Last week I had been feeling somewhat akin to the Goodyear blimp, and not the scaled-down toy version, either. I kept expecting them to call and ask me to fill in for the blimp at the next major sporting event. Every time I went into my closet I got discouraged as I looked longingly at my non-pregnant clothes, aching to be able to wear them again. Some of my most favorite warm-weather pieces were ones I really didn't get to wear much, since I bought them last fall right before I found out I was pregnant. Add a tub-full of guilt on top of that desire to not be rotund--I wasn't being grateful for this precious gift--and I felt awful. In case I haven't mentioned it before, I went through 5-1/2 years of infertility before I was blessed with Little Bit. If I was still going through that battle with infertility today and someone had said to me what I was currently thinking, that she was more worried about not getting back into her non-pregnant clothes rather than rejoicing in the fact that she was getting to be a mommy, I would have clocked her upside the head with a baseball bat for being so ungrateful. It was a no-win situation, and I was absolutely pathetic. A couple of times hormones took over and I just started bawling. Poor HOFFER didn't really know what to do, and frankly, there wasn't much to do but let me vent.
When I go see my doctor, the first thing that happens when I get called in for my appointment is the dreaded weigh-in. I mentioned to the nurse on one occasion that I didn't want to know my weight, so she told me to close my eyes. On subsequent appointments I have just stood on THE BEAST with my back to it. (HA! Tell me how much I weigh, will ya???? I'll show you!!!) Last week's appointment was no exception. I outsmarted THE BEAST yet again and stood with my back to it, ignoring its evil declaration.
While I outsmarted THE BEAST, apparently no one told Dr. P that I didn't want to know my weight. And technically, he didn't tell me how much I weigh. What he did was listen to Tiny Bit's heartbeat, measured my belly, and looked over the information on my chart. Our brief conversation went something like this:
Dr. P: "Looks like you're doing great. You measured the right size, baby's heartbeat is strong, and you've only gained 10 pounds, so you're doing great."
Me: "I'm sorry...what did you say? Did you really say 10 POUNDS?"
Dr. P: "Yes, only 10 pounds. I think we talked about..."
I stopped listening at that point, because it was really all I wanted and needed to hear. ONLY TEN POUNDS!!! Then I tuned in again as he said "You should be back to your regular size in no time."
I could hear the angelic chorus singing "Aaaahhhh!!!!"
Call me shallow, but this was SO INCREDIBLY ENCOURAGING to me!!! With Little Bit I gained about 40-50 pounds...blew right past the 200 mark. I ballooned to the size of a hot air balloon, which for someone who has been relatively petite for most of my life, is very bad! But I didn't care because I was so VERY excited just to actually be pregnant. I have been a bit more careful this time around. I eat at Sonic only 2-3 times a week instead of every day. (I wish I were joking!) I honestly believe it is the vitamins I'm taking...it's the main difference between this pregnancy and my first one (other that not having a daily dose of foot-long Coney, large tater tots and a Route 44 Coca-Cola with extra ice). The cool thing is they are not prenatal vitamins...they are the same vitamins I've been taking on a daily basis for about five years. So I continue to take these vitamins (in addition to my prenatals) and am continuing to do well. The only concern was that, in spite of taking an iron supplement every day, I was still anemic. So I have been given a stronger supplement, and that seems to be working well.
I wish I weren't so shallow. But I think I will look at it in a more positive way: I'm grateful that I have a healthier pregnancy than my first one, and that I'll be back to my old self much sooner than the first time around.
Before I tell you how good God was to me last week, I need to give you a tidbit of information about my pregnancies. I have been pregnant only two times in my life. Both times happened shortly after I had slimmed down somewhat. Prior to Little Bit, I had lost 15 pounds; before Tiny Bit, I had gone down two sizes. I figured God could've used better timing and let me enjoy my slightly more svelte self a while longer, but ultimately who am I to tell Him what to do? So with both pregnancies I have tried to not focus on that, but rather be grateful for the privilege of getting to be a mommy. I haven't been so good at it this time around.
Last week I had been feeling somewhat akin to the Goodyear blimp, and not the scaled-down toy version, either. I kept expecting them to call and ask me to fill in for the blimp at the next major sporting event. Every time I went into my closet I got discouraged as I looked longingly at my non-pregnant clothes, aching to be able to wear them again. Some of my most favorite warm-weather pieces were ones I really didn't get to wear much, since I bought them last fall right before I found out I was pregnant. Add a tub-full of guilt on top of that desire to not be rotund--I wasn't being grateful for this precious gift--and I felt awful. In case I haven't mentioned it before, I went through 5-1/2 years of infertility before I was blessed with Little Bit. If I was still going through that battle with infertility today and someone had said to me what I was currently thinking, that she was more worried about not getting back into her non-pregnant clothes rather than rejoicing in the fact that she was getting to be a mommy, I would have clocked her upside the head with a baseball bat for being so ungrateful. It was a no-win situation, and I was absolutely pathetic. A couple of times hormones took over and I just started bawling. Poor HOFFER didn't really know what to do, and frankly, there wasn't much to do but let me vent.
When I go see my doctor, the first thing that happens when I get called in for my appointment is the dreaded weigh-in. I mentioned to the nurse on one occasion that I didn't want to know my weight, so she told me to close my eyes. On subsequent appointments I have just stood on THE BEAST with my back to it. (HA! Tell me how much I weigh, will ya???? I'll show you!!!) Last week's appointment was no exception. I outsmarted THE BEAST yet again and stood with my back to it, ignoring its evil declaration.
While I outsmarted THE BEAST, apparently no one told Dr. P that I didn't want to know my weight. And technically, he didn't tell me how much I weigh. What he did was listen to Tiny Bit's heartbeat, measured my belly, and looked over the information on my chart. Our brief conversation went something like this:
Dr. P: "Looks like you're doing great. You measured the right size, baby's heartbeat is strong, and you've only gained 10 pounds, so you're doing great."
Me: "I'm sorry...what did you say? Did you really say 10 POUNDS?"
Dr. P: "Yes, only 10 pounds. I think we talked about..."
I stopped listening at that point, because it was really all I wanted and needed to hear. ONLY TEN POUNDS!!! Then I tuned in again as he said "You should be back to your regular size in no time."
I could hear the angelic chorus singing "Aaaahhhh!!!!"
Call me shallow, but this was SO INCREDIBLY ENCOURAGING to me!!! With Little Bit I gained about 40-50 pounds...blew right past the 200 mark. I ballooned to the size of a hot air balloon, which for someone who has been relatively petite for most of my life, is very bad! But I didn't care because I was so VERY excited just to actually be pregnant. I have been a bit more careful this time around. I eat at Sonic only 2-3 times a week instead of every day. (I wish I were joking!) I honestly believe it is the vitamins I'm taking...it's the main difference between this pregnancy and my first one (other that not having a daily dose of foot-long Coney, large tater tots and a Route 44 Coca-Cola with extra ice). The cool thing is they are not prenatal vitamins...they are the same vitamins I've been taking on a daily basis for about five years. So I continue to take these vitamins (in addition to my prenatals) and am continuing to do well. The only concern was that, in spite of taking an iron supplement every day, I was still anemic. So I have been given a stronger supplement, and that seems to be working well.
I wish I weren't so shallow. But I think I will look at it in a more positive way: I'm grateful that I have a healthier pregnancy than my first one, and that I'll be back to my old self much sooner than the first time around.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Mystery Revealed
First I will start with my most recent belly pic. Here I am:
Not whale status yet, although that will come about soon enough. Here I am at 19 weeks, 4 days, and everything is progressing beautifully and as it should be progressing. Today I had my monthly check-up AND my 5-month sonogram. This is the time when the sonogram tech checks to see that the baby's development is correct: fingers, toes, bone structure, vital organs, etc. (if there is any etc.). This is also when parents find out if they are having a boy or girl.
First let me say that everything looked great. All the vital organs were developing as they should, 10 fingers, 10 toes, the spine looked perfect...everything was normal and as it should be. So for that we say THANK YOU, LORD! Your handiwork is amazing!
Next we found out what we are having. If you recall, I was absolutely certain we were having a boy. (For that post, click here.) The HOFFER, however, was convinced it was a girl. Little Bit didn't really know but really hoped for a girl. She was being told by friends and classmates that little brothers were Satan's direct attack on big sisters and were to be avoided at all costs. Either way, whether boy or girl, it didn't matter to me. I was just grateful for the privilege of being a mommy again.
I went in for my appointment this morning all alone. The HOFFER had a regrettable scheduling conflict that really couldn't be avoided, so it was just me. I was actually okay with that...as long as he's there when the baby arrives!!!! I walked in with a VCR tape and an envelope for keeping the news a secret till we could get together as a family. As I said before, the appointment went very well...all is normal, and normal is good. My sonogram tech took a picture of the baby's privates, made sure it said either boy or girl, slipped it in the envelope, and sealed it.
After I came home, I let Chester the Wonderdog out for a bathroom break, then brought him back in so the two of us could take a nap together. I was running on about 4 hours of sleep and was really ready for some rest. Ten minutes into our nap Wonderdog let me know in no uncertain terms that he needed to go back outside for another potty break. I reluctantly got up and took him back outside. After all, it beat having pee or poop on my bed. Unfortunately for me, a short section of our fence is missing and in the process of being repaired, so he ran to one of his favorite places to potty: our next-door neighbor's yard. As if that weren't bad enough, he hasn't mastered the art of coming when called and COMPLETELY ignored my desperate pleas to come back to our yard. Right as he squats for a poop break, my neighbor walks out of her back door. Oh, how embarrassing!!!! I cringe. "I am so sorry! I will clean this up...I PROMISE!" She told me that she was only coming out because she saw me and wanted to find out what we were having. (She really is a sweet neighbor.) I explained the situation, that I didn't know and that results were in a sealed envelope, but that I would be glad to let her peek inside. (I felt a bit obligated since Wonderdog had soiled her lovely lawn!) So I cleaned up the poop while she checked the envelope. She made one comment that made me think it was a girl, then said something else that made me think boy. She was nice enough to keep the secret.
We went to dinner with some close family friends to share our big news. After ordering our meal, we handed the envelope to Little Bit to let her reveal the Big Secret. It took her a minute to figure the picture, but then finally found the answer to our question:
"GIRL!"
Her name is Sarah Grace.
Not whale status yet, although that will come about soon enough. Here I am at 19 weeks, 4 days, and everything is progressing beautifully and as it should be progressing. Today I had my monthly check-up AND my 5-month sonogram. This is the time when the sonogram tech checks to see that the baby's development is correct: fingers, toes, bone structure, vital organs, etc. (if there is any etc.). This is also when parents find out if they are having a boy or girl.
First let me say that everything looked great. All the vital organs were developing as they should, 10 fingers, 10 toes, the spine looked perfect...everything was normal and as it should be. So for that we say THANK YOU, LORD! Your handiwork is amazing!
Next we found out what we are having. If you recall, I was absolutely certain we were having a boy. (For that post, click here.) The HOFFER, however, was convinced it was a girl. Little Bit didn't really know but really hoped for a girl. She was being told by friends and classmates that little brothers were Satan's direct attack on big sisters and were to be avoided at all costs. Either way, whether boy or girl, it didn't matter to me. I was just grateful for the privilege of being a mommy again.
I went in for my appointment this morning all alone. The HOFFER had a regrettable scheduling conflict that really couldn't be avoided, so it was just me. I was actually okay with that...as long as he's there when the baby arrives!!!! I walked in with a VCR tape and an envelope for keeping the news a secret till we could get together as a family. As I said before, the appointment went very well...all is normal, and normal is good. My sonogram tech took a picture of the baby's privates, made sure it said either boy or girl, slipped it in the envelope, and sealed it.
After I came home, I let Chester the Wonderdog out for a bathroom break, then brought him back in so the two of us could take a nap together. I was running on about 4 hours of sleep and was really ready for some rest. Ten minutes into our nap Wonderdog let me know in no uncertain terms that he needed to go back outside for another potty break. I reluctantly got up and took him back outside. After all, it beat having pee or poop on my bed. Unfortunately for me, a short section of our fence is missing and in the process of being repaired, so he ran to one of his favorite places to potty: our next-door neighbor's yard. As if that weren't bad enough, he hasn't mastered the art of coming when called and COMPLETELY ignored my desperate pleas to come back to our yard. Right as he squats for a poop break, my neighbor walks out of her back door. Oh, how embarrassing!!!! I cringe. "I am so sorry! I will clean this up...I PROMISE!" She told me that she was only coming out because she saw me and wanted to find out what we were having. (She really is a sweet neighbor.) I explained the situation, that I didn't know and that results were in a sealed envelope, but that I would be glad to let her peek inside. (I felt a bit obligated since Wonderdog had soiled her lovely lawn!) So I cleaned up the poop while she checked the envelope. She made one comment that made me think it was a girl, then said something else that made me think boy. She was nice enough to keep the secret.
We went to dinner with some close family friends to share our big news. After ordering our meal, we handed the envelope to Little Bit to let her reveal the Big Secret. It took her a minute to figure the picture, but then finally found the answer to our question:
"GIRL!"
Her name is Sarah Grace.
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