One in Eight

Dearest D,

It’s National Infertility Awareness Week. This week brings awareness to the 1 in 8 struggling with infertility. These people have unprotected sex (Daddy will talk to you about that later!) for at 12 months without a viable pregnancy. There are so. many. different kinds of infertility. 

Infertility isn’t all in your head. You can’t just relax and magically get pregnant. Despite what people tell you and how it worked for their friend’s sister’s uncle’s barber’s wife…

Infertility is a medical issue.

Infertility is a gut wrenching, relationship testing, tear-filled, self-esteem crushing roller coaster.

Infertility is a b*tch. 

And one in eight struggle with it.

One in eight 

• Have timed intercourse 
• Taking basal temp every. single. day.
• Taking ovulation tests
• Inspecting the cervical musous on toilet paper
• Spend tons of money for medicated cycles
• Spend more time with a wand in their bits more than their husband
• Go through medical procedures to retrieve eggs
• And test sperm
• Countless procedures to monitor how follicles are growing
• Appointment after appointment after appointment
• IUI
• Embryo transfer(s)
• Sperm donors
• Egg donors
• Surrogacy
• Adoption
• Living child free. Which is not giving up! Living child free is a deeply personal decision. 

D, these are just a few things people go through in their quest to have a family. 

Mommy and Daddy are one in eight. We wished, hoped, prayed and cried plenty of tears in our journey to become parents.  You are our miracle baby. 

Being parents isn’t always unicorns and butterflies. But it doesn’t have shit on the infertility ride.

We are some of the lucky ones.  

I love you to infinity and beyond.

Momma

Let’s Talk About Poop

As the mother of a boy and wife to a 30-something boy I’m pretty confident that this won’t be the last poop post.

Saturday D blew. out. his diaper. Twice. 

Since his surgery D has been a once a day kind of guy. The time of day varies, but 9 times out of 10 he would leave a present in his diaper for someone to discover at some point during the day. Until Saturday, D had only had one blow out in his entire three (?!?!?) months. I thought maybe it was a growth spurt, a fluke or maybe D wasn’t feeling well. He slept in until 11am Saturday. Thank you, D!

No such luck.

Yesterday morning I walked in D’s room and was assaulted by an incredible stink. D, his pajamas, swaddler, sheets and blankets were covered in poop. I *knew* there was a reason I had ‘neglected’ to change sheets Friday! Booger earned himself his 3rd bath in less than 24 hours.

B had to work this weekend, so D and I went to my mom’s house for coffee and Sunday lunch. D ate right before we did and no sooner did we sit down than D (quite audibly!) filled his pants. His diaper managed to contain everything this time and all he needed was a diaper change and we were good to go.

After his next feed it was the same story. Auntie H feed D his bottle, burped him and not 10 minutes after finishing his bottle, blew out his britches… clothes and all. The look on my sister’s face was hilarious!

I have never in my life seen my sister hand over a baby that fast. 

B fed D after we got home. Same story. B was so grossed out, he put D right down. Poop on the carpet be damned!

D ate his last feed with no issues. I thought all was well.

Wrong!

I went to get D out of his crib this morning and sure enough. Shit City. All over the clean sheets I had just put on his bed! At least I was smart enough to put dark sheets on his bed. I got D all cleaned up and ready to eat. Sans clothes. Momma ain’t no fool and I despise doing laundry.  And poop laundry is just as bad as puke laundry. 

Sure enough. In the time it took me to put D in his bouncy seat and rinse out the bottle, he had pooped. It was a contained crap, but a crap nonetheless.

What is going on with my son?!

Is pooping this much normal frequency and quantity wise?

Am I being a neurotic first time mom? I will be the first to admit that I am on high alert when it comes to D’s digestive system.

How can I contain the crap so it isn’t every-damn-where?

Does he need bigger diapers? He wears size one diapers and is well within the weight range for the size, but they aren’t loose. B’s solution to containment is to tighten the diapers, but if I go any tighter the poor kid is going to lose circulation!  

Help!

I think I’ll keep him. Even if he’s a poop machine.

 

 

Yeah, Toast!

Number Two is getting married in about six months.

I’m Number One, natch. Nothing to do with birth order… 

I can’t believe my little sister is getting married.

Monday I got to tag along as she tried on what she thinks may be The Dress. It totally is. 

As one of the Maids of Honor and the only Matron of Honor (ugh, matron?!) I’m slated to give a toast. I’ve never given a toast before!

Seriously, who came up with term Matron on Honor. Doesn’t make me feel like a dowdy old lady at all. Oof.

There are tons of stories from growing up together that I could incorporate into my toast, but to anyone who hasn’t lived in the House of Crazy with four daughters and one bathroom… they won’t translate the same. I definitely don’t want to embarrass my sister or myself  but I want to give a personal, heartfelt, entertaining toast that she will love. I don’t want to drone on and on either.

I remember going to one wedding where every. single. person. in the huge bridal party gave a speech and we had to listen to speeches for over an hour and being very uncomfortable as the best man told stories of the groom’s previous…exploits and other embarrassing stories. It was awful and not something I want to do. 

I want to add to my sister’s experience as a bride, not detract from it.

Help a Matron of Honor (ugh!) out.

What has made toasts you’ve heard memorable? Any horror stories of toasts you’ve heard? And what in the world do I say? 

Whirlwind

So the past few weeks since the last post have been an absolute whirlwind.

Christmas with all the various parts of the families.  I didn’t have to change a single diaper Christmas Eve OR Christmas. Win!

New Year’s. The only reason I was awake to ring in the new year was because someone was demanding to eat. Men! 🙂 D had issues maintaining and gaining weight. We were going in for weekly weight checks. 

Once the 2013 rolled around I figured the chaos was behind us and D and I could figure out and set a schedule for how our days were going to go.

Wrong!

A few days after the new year D started throwing up. Seriously throwing up. We started using blankets for burp cloths because regular burp cloths couldn’t contain the mess. It escalated to projectile vomiting after every. single. feed. I was up to at least one, if not two, pukey loads of clothes a day. D’s and mine. I loathe doing laundry. Especially puke laundry. 

I tried everything to stop the vomiting. Smaller feeds. Burping after every ounce. Taking the bottle out of his mouth ever 30 seconds so D didn’t get too much at once. Smaller nip.ples on the bottle. Soy formula. Gas drops. Sitting up for 15, 30, 60 minutes after a feed. Everything twitter, facebook, family and friends suggested. None of it was helping and I was losing my mind.

I didn’t want to be the mom who constantly takes her child to the doctor for no reason. Sunday night D was still projectile puking and I decided I would make him an appointment just to be on the safe side. My gut was telling me this wasn’t normal and maybe he needed some reflux medication. I called Monday morning and the on call nurse agreed that with D’s vomiting and his sudden lack of wet diapers that D needed an appointment and we scheduled one for Monday afternoon. My sister came over to hang out Monday morning and decided to come with us to the appointment to spend more time with D before her class right around the corner from the doctor’s office.

The doctor asked why we were there and after giving D an exam He’d lost all the weight he’d fought so hard to put on and was back down below his birth weight. Again. she thought D may have something as simple as reflux but suspected he may have pyloric stenosis (thickening of the muscle between the stomach and small intestine that keeps food from being digested requiring surgery to fix) and sent us to the hospital for a stat ultrasound to confirm the diagnosis. Auntie A and I drove our cars to the hospital focusing on driving was the only thing keeping me from falling apart. and went straight from out patient testing back for the ultrasound. I hated having to call my sister and let her know we probably weren’t going to make it to the appointment to pick out bridesmaid dresses and see her in her wedding gown. Thankfully M was awesome at calming me down. And she was debating whether to cancel the whole appointment to come down to the hospital. Thank you, Tia. We love you!

Thank goodness Auntie A decided to come along for the appointment. B working, doesn’t have any cell reception in his building and was due to be leaving any minute. I sent him an email and text messages letting him know I needed him to call me asap. I didn’t want to focus on the worst case scenario, as hormonal, first time moms who are kicking themselves for waiting so long to take their kids to the doctor could possibly be, surgery, and tell him over the phone or in an email.

I finally got a hold of B and told him that D and I were okay but he needed to come to the hospital. I will never forget the sound of B’s voice when I told him what was going and that our son may need surgery. B was worried, but he was incredibly reassuring and supportive. And didn’t make any jokes about my cry voice over the phone.

B got there in time to hear the radiologist’s diagnosis- D did have pyloric stenosis and was going to be admitted straight from the ultrasound. My four week old son was going to have surgery.

Due to flu season being in full swing the peds floor was full and I ended up in the waiting room for 30 minutes with a baby who was starving and letting every person in the waiting know for a room to open up while B went home to pack bags. D couldn’t eat until after surgery…and we had no idea when that was going to be. Poor guy was starving, but he was a trooper!

Once we got a room the nurses took D’s vitals and needed to draw blood to see what his electrolyte levels were and to start an IV. They draw blood and start IVs in a procedure room so the parents can either stay and watch or as a reason to not have to see their child poked and prodded and to have all potentially needed tools in the same room. And it was painted with a really cool mural on the wall to put the kids at ease. I opted to go with for my peace of mind- to know that D wasn’t in too much pain and to make sure the nurses knew what they were doing. Not that I could do it myself. One nurse distracted him with one of the many toys in the room while another tried to start an IV, but because D was dehydrated his veins wouldn’t cooperate and he ended up with a scary looking one in his head. D’s labs came back and he was scheduled for surgery Tuesday morning at 11am.

Monday night was quite possibly the longest night of my life. D was beyond hungry, would not. stop. crying. and I was running solo. It was the night of the Notre Dame/Alabama championship game, the televisions at the hospital are itty bitty, it was not going to be quiet for B to hear the commentary and these sick little kids did not need to see/hear the adult temper tantrum that was a possibility if the game did not go well for ND so I sent B home. Definitely the right choice!  

Tuesday morning finally rolled around and my Dad came to keep me company while I waited for B to get to the hospital. There was someone coming to appraise the house to refinance our mortgage. Interest rates are LOW, yo! I was incredibly thankful my parents were with me. My youngest sister had emergency brain surgery at 2 weeks old and they know exactly how it feels for your child to need a surgical procedure out of the blue and how helpless to do anything you feel. 

D went back to pre-op at 10 and I managed to keep it together. Definitely helped that I got to carry him instead of walking behind him being wheeled down in the bed that looked like a cage. D’s surgeon was an amazing man who sat down, looked me in the eye told me step for step what he was going to be doing, in terms that I could understand without a medical degree. He told us that D would probably be taken back for surgery about 11am, the procedure would take roughly an hour, D would be post-op and we could hold our son by 12:15pm plus/minus 15 minutes. We could lay eyes on our son and hold him by 12:30. Definitely reassuring to know exactly what was happening and when we could see D. B made it to pre-op in time to hold D and spend a few minutes with him. The surgical nurses came in, commented on how adorable D was (naturally), and took our little baby away. Then, I lost it.  

My parents, B and I checked in to the surgical waiting room and the waiting game began. There was an adorable  little girl not much older than D in the waiting room and I lost it all over again. After a few minutes one of the nurses came out to let us know D’s surgery had started. Right on time. 90 minutes until we could see our sweet boy, tops.

Thank goodness for technology and wireless internet!

Right at noon the surgeon came out to let us know the procedure went well and let us know D was in recovery and was starting to wake up. He even showed us photos from the surgery! Another nurse came out and took us back to see D.

D in recovery. Hard to see our son like this, but nice knowing he was on his way to feeling much, much better.

D was going to be in recovery for at least an hour and my parents were anxious to see D as well. B and I ran down to the cafeteria to get a quick bite to eat while the grandparents spent some time with D and he was back in his room before we could finish eating.

Daddy holding his son for the first time post-op.

D had to wait 3 hours after surgery to eat for the swelling to go down and potentially keep food down. B gave D his first single ounce of food in over 24 hours. For the first time in days  D kept food down! I held D after he ate and kept the bottle down. He looked me right in the face and smiles for the first time. There was no doubt in my mind that D was feeling tons better.

Feeeeeeeeeeeed me!

The next few feedings did not go as well as the first. The surgeon had told us that 90% of patients go home the day after surgery. D needed to keep 2 oz down for 3 feedings in a row in order to go home and he earned himself an extra night in the hospital. I had a lot of guilt about D needing to stay the extra day. I felt like a really bad mom for not listening to my instincts and taking him to the doctor sooner. But that’s another story.  

After lots of tears D’s and mine D finally kept his 2 oz down for the 3rd time the wee hours on Thursday morning and the three of us finally got to go home! B burned through vacation days to stay at the hospital with D and in support of me. I did the ugly cry more than once in the days were in the hospital. I am forever thankful for how supportive B and our families were.

I was more than a little nervous to take D home and take are of him, but this face was a definite step in the right direction.

D’s Birth Story

Dearest D,

Today we’ve been home from the hospital for a whole week and you are a whopping 10 days old. Or at least you were when I first started writing this. You don’t leave me a whole lot of free time… It feels so much longer and so much shorter at the same time.

Sorry, Momma’s been slacking and hasn’t written down your birth story before now. But you’re too cute and slightly demanding. 🙂

The night before you were born was the last Saturday I was supposed to be pregnant before being induced the following Friday. I was planning on taking a taking a final picture each day of the week before you came.

Last Saturday pregnant

Little did I know that this would be the last belly pic I would ever take of you. I went to bed Saturday night thinking it was just like any other Saturday night.

I woke up at 2:15am having to pee and feeling a little…weird. It took me a second to realize that my water was breaking.

Let me tell you, Little Man, that having your water break is absolutely nothing like the Hollywood makes it out to be! No one ever told me that once your water breaks, you continue to leak/occasionally gush fluid until the baby is born. Who knew! And thankfully your Dad strongly suggested I sit on a towel.

As soon as I knew what was going on I ran to the bathroom hollering holy shit!

Strangely enough, the same thing I said when I got  the first big fat positive. 🙂

Your Daddy woke up and started getting the last few things ready for the hospital bag while I called the doctor and he told me to go ahead and head to the hospital. After making sure I didn’t pee myself…

We packed up and got to the hospital about 3am and bypassed triage and headed straight to labor and delivery.

Our nurse, Pam, was hilarious. She had us laughing and joking around to distract us from the life changing event that was about to happen to us. She had us up and walking the halls and by 4am I had some pretty decent back contractions going on. Pam suggested the birthing ball for pain relief and to move you down.

Just a heads up…the birthing ball looks more like a pair of balls than an actual ball-for balance. Pam, Dad and I had plenty of laughs about how balls are what got us in the situation we were in. Sorry, your parents are incredibly immature. 

The birthing ball definitely worked. When Pam checked me she could actually feel your head! My contractions were definitely more intense. And ALL in my back. Pam said you were face up and having a hard time making it under my pelvic bone and that’s why everything was in my back. The ball and breathing weren’t cutting it and it was time for an epidural.

The anesthesiologist came in and despite his Big 10 Ohio State t-shirt Daddy let him in the room and he gave me an epidural. As die hard Notre Dame-ers we are NOT Big 10 fans. 

It didn’t work.

I tried to tough it out a little longer, but back labor is no joke and who-who-he wasn’t cutting it.

By this point Pam had gone home and we had a new nurse named Lori. Lori let me know that it was totally okay to ask for the anesthesiologist to come back and try again and that being in this much pain didn’t have to be part of the process if I didn’t want it to be and no one was going to judge me for asking for an epidural. Dr. Ohio State gave me another epidural.

It didn’t work.

Dr. Ohio State decided that the third time was the charm and to try again. I don’t know if it was in my head or out loud, but I remember asking God to make this one work and to provide me some relief. Daddy said the doctor was so focused on making the epidural work that he got half way through and started over again.

It didn’t work.

I’m sure time must have kept on ticking, but I honestly don’t remember much. I remember holding on to the bed rail as hard as I could and trying not to cry. I remember Grandma and Grandpa stopping by after church and Grandma’s ice cold hands feeling amazing as she brushed my hair out of my face and told me how she definitely thought you were going to have my lips based on the ultrasound picture I received earlier in the week.

I remember Daddy coming over and asking me what he could do to help and telling him I wasn’t sure I could do this much longer, that even when I wasn’t having a contraction, I could feel everything in my back and it felt like I was. Dad went into full on Daddy Mode and asked if he could push the button for the nurse. Lori came in and Daddy asked her what Plan B was, because this was NOT working and he couldn’t stand to see his wife in pain like I was in. He said if there was no Plan B, someone needed to come up with one right now because this wasn’t going to cut it any longer. Lori called in Baby Doctor who checked me and said I was still at 8cm.

I remember being 3cm and 5cm, but I don’t remember being 8…  

Baby Doctor said you weren’t going to be coming out on your own and he thought it was time for a c-section. He ran through the risks and Lori grabbed paperwork and got Daddy some super attractive paper scrubs. While Daddy changed Lori quizzed me on what Baby Doctor said some of risks of a c-section and had me sign the consent form. I know I wrote something, but I’m not positive it was my name I signed. I asked Baby Doctor how long it was going to be before I was wheeled back and he told us 30 minutes or less. I made sure to look at the clock and it was 1:10pm

I also remember thinking it sounded like a pizza was being delivered rather than a baby. 

I was wheeled into the operating room after running into no less than 2 walls/doors and I remember thinking it was incredibly bright. Lori helped me slide from the bed to the operating table, told me how fabulous I was doing, that I was going to get to meet you soon and held my hands as I breathed through contractions while Dr. Ohio State started attempting the spinal.

Truth be told, I was absolutely terrified the spinal wouldn’t take and I was have to be put under general anesthesia. Dr. Ohio State warned me that might need to happen if things didn’t work out the way he was hoping they would when he gave me his piece before I went in the OR. He held my hand and promised me he was going to do everything in his power to make sure the spinal worked and that he was incredibly sorry the epidurals didn’t take and that I was in pain.

After several attempts, the spinal FINALLY worked I cried and I was delightfully numb as the people in the operating room were counting instruments (which I found strangely comforting) and putting a big blue curtain up so I didn’t see anything. Baby Doctor came in with Daddy right behind. Daddy sat right behind me on my left side and I remember looking at him and thinking that this was the last moment it was going to be just the two of us, forever. And I cried.

Baby Doctor did his thing and I remember hearing your first cry. It was loud and strong and I was instantly smitten with you. I looked at your Daddy and started to cry. Yes, again. You were handed off to a nurse to be checked over, cleaned up and weighed. Daddy got to watch and take pictures. He even moved the curtain back to make sure I could see as much as I could of your first moments in the world.  Once she was done, the nurse bundled you up and brought you over so I could see and meet the tiny person that I’d felt moving  and growing inside of me. I gave you and kiss right on your chubby little cheek and cried some more. Surprise, surprise. The nurse gave you to your Daddy to hold for a few minutes. I remember looking over my shoulder and watching your Daddy fall in love with you as he looked in to the face of his son for the first time. I won’t say whether or not Daddy teared up, but I sure did! After a few minutes you, Daddy and the nurse went to wait for me in the recovery room while Baby Doctor finished up. Which seemed like forever. I wanted to be with my family.

Eventually I was wheeled into recovery and the first thing I saw was your Daddy holding you skin to skin. As soon as I was situated it was my turn to finally hold my sweet baby boy and bond with you. It was definitely heaven on earth. After an hour-ish as a family your grandmas came back to meet you and then Tia Melissa and Aunt Hannah got to meet you. Aunt Hannah was hilarious, the first thing she did when she came back to recovery was ask when she could hold you. She was the first person other than hospital staff and your parents to hold you! After a few hours in recovery we went to our room and Uncle Jeff and Grandpa C got to meet and hold you. Poppa W would have been there if he could have, but he was really sick with the flu and didn’t want to get any of us sick. 

When it was all said and done, you came in to the world 12/9/12 at 1:54pm weighing 8lbs 4oz and 20.5in long. D, your Daddy and I have fallen hopelessly in love with you and more and more each day. You are our precious miracle baby that we are loving getting to know. Despite the difficult delivery, the complicated pregnancy and heartbreak in getting pregnant, you are beyond worth it and i wouldn’t change you for the world. Thank you for choosing us to be your parents.

I love you to infinity and beyond,

Mom

Our first family picture!

The End is Near

Tomorrow I start going to the OB twice a week until Nugget makes his grand entrance.

Exactly one month from tomorrow is my due date and just over a week away from being considered ‘full term’.

It’s definitely time to pack my hospital bag. As B so kindly reminds me. Daily.

The thing is, I don’t know what to pack!

I know I’ll need pj’s, phone chargers, undies, toiletries, comfy clothes to go home in, a few days worth of B’s meds and some outfits for Nugget, his car seat and snowsuit.

And lotion and lip balm. It’s winter(ish)  in Michigan and the hospital I’m planning to deliver in was so dry when I spent time there in August. If my lips and skin were dry then, I can only imagine what it’s going to be like in December.  B is incredibly picky about what kind of lotion he uses and the crap they had was useless. 

That can’t possibly be it. I’m a notorious over-packer. 

And how much can I pre-pack? I’m definitely going to be using my toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner and shaving my legs between now and when this baby is born.

That’s the other thing. Depending on how much bigger this child gets determines how and when he’s going to be born. I am not tall/big in stature. My OB has already warned me that if Nugg is 8lbs or less I should have no problems with a vaginal delivery. If he’s 9lbs or less she would be comfortable attempting a vaginal delivery as long as I knew that it may result in a c-section. If he’s bigger than 9lbs, which I was, it wouldn’t be safe for either of us and I would need to have a c-section.  Nugget was 6lbs 4oz and counting at the 35 week growth ultrasound last week. For all I know, we could be celebrating Christmas/B’s birthday in the hospital!

What was/would you pack in your hospital bag?

 

Dear Grandma

Dear Grandma,

Happy would be 98th birthday!

I have no doubt you, Grandpa and Aunt Patricia are having a ball up in Heaven. I’m sure the angels are enjoying you serenading them with your amazing piano skills and I’m willing to bet Jesus is a big fan of your amazing chocolate chip cookies. I know I was.

I miss you like I can’t even describe. I know you’re in a much better place and feeling so much better now. But? Selfishly, I wish you were here for this season of my life.

I really wish you could have met B before the strokes took away your memory and sparkling personality.

I wish you were still alive to see me get married.

I wish you could see the joy on your daughter’s face when she talks about becoming a Grandma.

I wish I could take advantage of your years as a nurse and your knowledge and experience as a mother of seven.

Mostly, I wish you were here to meet my son. He isn’t even here yet and he’s already the most important and amazing thing I’ve ever done in my life.

I can only imagine the smile on your face, and mine, when you meet and hold Nugget for the first time. It breaks my heart you won’t ever meet him and be a part of his life.

Even though you’re not longer here with us on earth, you live on in our hearts and memories and I know you’re looking down on us from heaven.

I miss you. And your chocolate chip cookies.

I love you.

A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.

Love,

Shugah

 

 

 

Po Dunk, Pregnancy, Procrastination and Picoult

I have a bit of a tendency to wait until the last minute to do things. I genuinely work better and more productively under the gun.

I learned this week again that something are best taken care of sooner rather than later.

Like registering for parenting classes. 

To be perfectly honest, the classes were first brought to my attention at my very first OB appointment at 6 weeks. At that point, no one other than parents and sibs knew I was pregnant. It wasn’t until after the 12 week ultrasound when B and I heard Nugget’s heartbeat and saw our baby that we told our extended family and friends.

I didn’t want to register for any kind of classes until Nugget reached viability. I didn’t want to jinx anything.

Then life, pregnancy complications and an intestinal parasite  got in the way and I was genuinely focusing on not crapping my pants several times a day. And worried about the health of my son.

At my last OB appointment I was asked if I’d registered for one of the classes yet.

Of course not.

Softball season was just about over. There was no way I was going to get B to agree to go to while he was playing softball 3 nights a week. Nor did I particularly want to have another weekly commitment.

And football season is in full swing. This Momma ain’t no fool. I know better than to foolishly suggest we spend an entire Saturday at a parenting class. Especially when Daddy’s Notre Dame Irish are undefeated! Manti Teo for Heisman!

The very last softball tournament of the season was last weekend so I looked into classes.

Every single class from now until January is full. I will be more than a little upset if I’m still pregnant in January.

I managed to find an opening for a tour of the birthing center the week before my due date.

I’m on waiting lists for more than a few classes, but I’m basically ass out. I put out an SOS on facebook and asked what books/blogs/etc people found helpful and would recommend to a terrified first time parent on childbirth and breastfeeding. I bookmarked the **blogs,** wrote down the books and headed to the library to checkout the recommended books.

Our local branch didn’t have a single suggested book. Seriously, not even What to Expect When You’re Expecting. There are several books on potty training, parenting unruly teens and even books for expecting teens, but nothing like what I was looking for. I was really surprised. It’s not like I live in an extremely rural area. I could drive the extra 10-15 minutes to go to the downtown branch and see if there is a actual larger selection there. But come on. How do they not have What to Expect When You’re Expecting?!

I left with one book for first time parents on pregnancy and birth.

And some just for fun books. Seriously, I’m kind of over sitting at home day after day. 

Including a couple of my favorite Jodi Picoult books and the newest one I haven’t yet read, Sing You Home. Based on the jacket cover summary I wasn’t prepared for what the first 50 pages held and had to stop reading. Not that this isn’t going to be a fabulous book, I’m just not emotionally or mentally in the right place to read it at the moment, but I do plan on reading it at some point. I love Jodi Picoult’s books! She’s fabulous. 

Seriously, if you haven’t read any of her work you are missing out! 

Moral of the story? Do. Not. wait until the last minute to look into registering for parenting classes, don’t go to a small-ish library, go read Jodi Picoult.

**Amy’s blog was recommended to me based on a (fabulous!) series of posts and guests posts on reader questions and things/tips/tricks Moms wished had been shared with them . And? Amy battles with infertility. She’s a fabulous read no matter where you are on your infertility journey.**

What books or blogs have you or friends found to be really good and would recommend?

 

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

It’s November 1st.

The official beginning to my most favoritest time of the year. I am totally aware favoritest isn’t a real word. THAT is how much I love this time of year!

November means Thanksgiving is mere weeks away. Not only does Thanksgiving bring delicious, once a year culinary masterpieces it’s the first family togetherness holiday.

No matter which parts of which family time is spent with when. Dysfunction(s) and all.

Too bad Xanax isn’t an option this year…

Right after Thanksgiving is another personal holiday.

My birthday! 

And it will two years since my parents’ separation. Instead of mourning all the emotional baggage, I’ve decided to try focus on all the positive things that have come from it and positive changes. In my relationships with my parents. My sisters. My husband. I can actually see and find positives. That’s some serious progress in the past 2 years.

Two weeks after my birthday, my son is ‘supposed’ to be born.

The son I never thought I would have.

Two weeks after my due date is a double whammy.

Brian’s birthday AND Christmas.

More fabulous food family togetherness!

I love this time of year. All the decorations, the food and the family. I can hardly wait!

But seriously, how is it November already?! Where did 2012 go?!

 

 

National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

To those remembering a child they never got to meet or a child that was taken too soon, I’m sending you love, hugs and hope. You are in my heart.

Today is recognized by lighting a candle at 7pm, regardless of what time zone you’re in.

For support and more information on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance please visit october15th.com