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D’s Birth Story

22 Dec

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. ūüôā

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

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.¬†ūüôā

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,


Our first family picture!

Our first family picture!


The End is Near

11 Nov

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?


Po Dunk, Pregnancy, Procrastination and Picoult

2 Nov

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!

1 Nov

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?!



No More Complications, Please!

5 Oct

This morning I had my 30 week OB appointment.

I went to my appointment by myself like I usually do. There’s no point in B missing work to come to a 15 minute appointment where I pee on a stick, have my vitals taken, get my belly measured and the doc listens to the heartbeat. I literally spend more time in the waiting room than I do with the doctor.

My pee looked good, I have no idea what my weight was (I get on the scale backwards. I really don’t want to know) my blood pressure was 120/72. The doc measured my belly at 33 weeks.¬†Oh. Em. Gee. I was a GINORMOUS baby and B was a good sized baby even being born 2 weeks early.¬†

Then the doctor put the doppler on to listen to Nugg’s heart. Nugget is usually pretty active in the morning and today was no exception. He was moving all over the place and the doctor was having trouble getting his heartbeat for more than a few seconds at a time. When he did get it, there were skips and irregularities in Nugget’s heartbeat. Doc immediately said he wanted an ultrasound asap to check Nugg’s heart and growth.

I was trying really hard not to freak out and desperately wishing Brian was there. Thankfully there was an open slot right after my appointment and I pretty much went right back for the ultrasound.

Nugget’s heart was strong and steady the entire time. Thank goodness! ¬†Doc thinks it was a fluke due to Nuggs moving around, but will keep monitoring just in case.¬†

U/S also showed Nugget is only about a week ahead of schedule and I have lots of fluid that’s making me measure big. I may even get to have this baby naturally around the time he’s due.¬†Here’s hoping… 12/12/12 would seriously be the most bad ass birthday, ever!

Ultimately the appointment went well, for which I am extremely thankful.

But I think I’m going to bring a friend with me from now on. Just in case.


26 Sep

Last week I went to have my labs drawn for the gestational diabetes test.

Totally standard for 28 weeks.

Seriously, that stuff is beyond disgusting. I’ve only ever had the orange flavor when going through testing for¬†PCOS.

I didn’t even have to drink The Juice.

I failed by two flipping points. 

It was a fasting test. I honestly wonder if I had been able to take my meds for the insulin resistance issues I would have passed. 

I now have a diagnosis of gestational diabetes.

Today I had my GD (gestational diabetes, not The Other GD) info class. Where I learned I will be poking myself and testing my blood sugar¬†four times a day.¬†¬†I don’t have issues with needles, but I would definitely prefer NOT to stab myself multiple times a day.

But at 29 weeks, I only have to do this for the next 11 weeks. Holy shiz. Nugget will likely be here in 11 weeks or less. Oh. Em. Gee. 

I will do anything and everything in my power to provide the best and healthiest environment for my son.

Even if it means keeping track of every morsel I eat. Even on Thanksgiving.

I may or may not have drooled a little bit…

Even though B has a 2 day +/- on Nugget being here on Thanksgiving. He just better be here by Christmas! ūüôā

Pregnancy Guilt

13 Sep

Is it wrong to feel guilty about being pregnant when so many friends in real life and the infertility community on twitter are struggling to get and stay pregnant?

Each couple’s infertility story and journey is different and unique to them.

Comparatively, our journey could be a lot different.

I stopped taking birth control pills shortly after our first anniversary summer of 2010. We weren’t trying, but we weren’t¬†not¬†trying either.

Then I missed my period.

Holy crap!

The pregnancy test was negative.

No big deal, my body just needs time to adjust. I’d been on the pill for about 5 years to help with extreme cramping and really heavy periods.

My period never came.

I took pregnancy tests every few weeks on the off chance that I was somehow pregnant. Always trying to prepare myself to see the one line but hoping to see those two lines saying I was pregnant.

B knew that something was going on, but I took great lengths to hide all the pregnancy tests and tried not to show him how scared I was that I would never be able to give him the kids he wanted. In the back of my mind I didn’t want him to regret marrying someone who couldn’t make him a Dad. ¬†Tampon boxes are the perfect hiding place.¬†

By November I still hadn’t had a period. I scheduled an appointment to see my doctor and have all the tests done.

Thanksgiving weekend 2010, the bottom fell out of my world. My parents separated. The family unit I had known my entire life was changing. A few days later I was diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) and was told the chances of my getting pregnant without significant medical intervention were slim to none.  And two days after that I turned 25. Happy freaking birthday to me.

Telling Brian I wasn’t going to be able to have children was far and away the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.¬†I don’t know if it was the wine or the hours and hours of crying but I felt like absolute ca-ca the next morning. Emotional hangover mixed with wine hangover- no bueno!

I started meds for the treatment of the pcos and prenatal vitamins for the other symptoms I was experiencing. (Acne, hair loss, facial hair, bumpy and brittle finger nails) I wanted to punch the pharmacy tech who congratulated me on my pregnancy and need for prenatals. Jackhole.

After several months of missed periods and then periods that lasted 2+ weeks my family doctor sent me to a fertility specialist. After looking at my temperature charts and being monitored by the specialist, she wanted me to start taking Clomid¬†December of 2011¬†and go from there. After failed Clomid cycles I wanted to hold off on doing another until we figured out how and if B’s new epilepsy meds were going to affect¬†¬†his fertility. I didn’t see the point in spending time, money, energy and heartache until we knew for sure something else wasn’t going on.

After taking the Clomid I had 2 regular periods. I was really excited that my body was actually starting to function in the way it was supposed to, but cautiously optimistic. I didn’t want to get my hopes up on to have my heart broken. Again.

My period was due 10th-20th of March if things were going to keep going regularly, but it never came.

I finally decided to take a pregnancy test April 7th, 2012 just to see what was going on.

Holy shit, it was positive. As were the next 6 tests I took. 

I was pregnant.

I’ve only had minor complications, right at and just after viability.


Getting pregnant definitely wasn’t wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am easy. ¬†But it wasn’t failed fertility treatment after failed fertility treatment after miscarriage after miscarriage, or (so far) dealt with serious complications to me or Nugget.

For that, I feel guilty. It’s not fair that I’m pregnant and will have a baby after 2 years at 27 years old. There are TONS of women who have tried for 2, 6, 8 times longer.

I definitely don’t wish away this miracle pregnancy. I ¬†feel guilty for feeling guilty. But I feel guilty all the same.

I just wish I could wave a magic wand and take away the heartache and financial and emotional cost of infertility and give everyone who wanted it a happy, healthy, uncomplicated pregnancy.

Infertility just sucks a big one.



Please feel free to comment but note that these are my genuine thoughts and feelings- word vomit or not. Please be kind. 


Focusing on the Positive

9 Sep

*There’s definitely some pregnancy/baby talk and a belly pic in this post.*

I’ve been feeling pretty down lately.

I still have the icks¬†and I haven’t been released to go back to work.

The doc won’t let me go back to work until I’m non-symptomatic.¬†I’m definitely still symptomatic. What ¬†26 week pregnant woman has to take anti-diarrhea meds instead of stool softeners. I mean really.¬†

No work means I’m spending lots and lots of time at home doing a whole lot of nothing. I would love to¬†do¬†things, but my energy level is seriously lacking and I don’t want to potentially expose a whole lot of people to this GI invader. I can’t think of anyone I would wish this upon. ¬†And let’s face it, I can’t stray too far from the bathroom.¬†

Needless to say, I’ve been feeling pretty crappy.¬†Haha, I’m so punny.¬†

Today I read a post¬†¬†from Courtney¬†reminding me to be thankful. That there is always a bright side.¬†I’ve never met Courtney, but the optimism and hope she has blows. me. away. ¬†

I was inspired.

Despite being off work (with no PTO or vacation time) for almost a month and being cooped up in the house there is no denying there are good things going on.

Nugget is doing fabulous. He’s continuing to grow, thrive and measure ahead of schedule despite my being ill and losing 26lbs.

He’s moving, shaking and tumbling a whole heck of a lot. I can actually watch my stomach jump and pop out¬†when I poke at it. It’s the weirdest thing ever to watch Nugget roll from one side of my stomach to the other. It’s¬†awesome¬†but weird.

I haven’t been able to work, but I have been able to have some coffee dates and spend some time with my Dad. ¬†I’ve been able to get Nugget’s room painted, furniture assembled and room mostly set up with the help of Hubs and his parents.¬†I really wish I had before and after pictures of the nursery. The previous owners¬†must¬†have let their kids paint the room. Speckles and splatters ALL over the ceiling and floor boards. And FYI, red takes¬†THREE¬†coats of primer to cover…

I haven’t been able to get comfortable or stay asleep at night (or get out of bed easily) but I haven’t had to get up at the butt crack of dawn to go to work.

And? I don’t have to put on a bra if I don’t wanna!¬†ūüôā

Sure, I’d love to go back to work and earn a paycheck, but I really don’t have all that much to complain about.


Here’s the most recent belly pic.


26 weeks 5 days

Adios, August!

31 Aug

I’ve not been a fan of August this year.

Of course there are my Mom’s and sister’s birthdays to celebrate as definite highlights.¬†We won’t mention my parents’ anniversary.


Side note- I cannot believe my baby sister is¬†seventeen¬†years old. Especially since I’m just shy of 10 years older than her. Cheese and rice that makes me feel old.

The beginning of August I got sick. Like 12 straight hours of puking and abdominal pain. This was the first time I had actually thrown up during this pregnancy.¬†Definitely wasn’t the first time I felt like puking, though.¬†I went to the ER per the on call doctor’s advice and was admitted (For the first time in my life) for suspected appendicitis. 36 hours later and no sign of my appendix on ultrasound or MRI it was decided my appendix was not infected and I had ligament stretching.

Ligament stretching my ass. That was unlike any ligament stretching I’ve ever felt. Ligament stretching has never lasted for more than a few seconds and doesn’t hurt THAT badly! Thank you, Mr. Doctor, sir.¬†

I got to go home after a night in the hospital and all was well.

For 2.5 weeks when I started having…’gastrointestinal issues’ and running a fever. B headed out, with my blessing, to hang out with the softball team and give their sponsor the trophy they won. I felt like crap on a cracker and texted B asking him to come home. B said he was getting his tab and would be on his way as soon as he could.

I guess I didn’t ask him to come home soon enough. I remember going to the bathroom and walking down the hall back to the living room and starting to feel dizzy. My poor husband walked in the door to find his wife passed out on the floor. I couldn’t make myself move. I couldn’t catch my breath. Stomach cramps like nothing I’d ever felt before.

My second ER visit and hospitalization in 2.5 weeks.¬†At least labor is going to be covered. I’ve¬†definitely¬†met my deductible.

Nugget and I were admitted to the ante partum unit due to severe dehydration and continued tummy troubles. Let me tell you, those nurses and doctors took¬†excellent¬†care of us. Fluids were encouraged and pushed brought every hour and not one person seemed pissed (haha) at having to help me to the bathroom all the time.¬†I wasn’t allowed to go on my own in case I passed out again. ¬†Nugget’s¬†heartbeat was checked every 4 hours and I spent at least 30 minutes on the monitor 2 times a day.¬†My uterus was angry that it was dehydrated and gave me a few warning contractions but no actual, labor contractions. ¬†Thank God!¬†

Thankfully B and our families were extremely understanding. The bathroom was huge and extremely echo-y. NOT what someone with a musical ass wants to deal with.

Day 3 of our stay the nurse came in the room and told me there was finally a diagnosis.¬†Campylobacter jejuni. The nurse asked if I’d been camping recently and I straight up laughed in her face. I do NOT do nature. Ew. Since I haven’t been camping, drank contaminated water or¬†unpasteurized milk or gone swimming, I must have gotten that organism that decided to make my insides home from some kind of food, probably¬†under cooked¬†meat.¬†And I haven’t eaten meat since…

Can we say EW!!!!!

Day 4 I was able to maintain fluid myself and got to go home! To my own bathroom. And shower. And bed. *Insert contented sigh here*

A week later I’m still trying to kick this invader out of my system. ¬†Had a follow up appointment with my OB today and Nugget looks fabulous. His heart rate is right in the 150s and he’s measuring at 28 weeks despite the fact that I lost 12 lbs in the 2 weeks of the icks and am 25 weeks pregnant.¬†

Here’s hoping that September is a lot more low key, I spent more time at home and work and Nugget stays put for a while longer!


25 week bumpage


It’s A…

28 Jul




So I’m not very good at this sharing information in a timely matter thing.

In the last post I wrote about the upcoming ultrasound appt where we would find out the gender of  this little Nugget.


I don’t know if it was just the tech I had that was tease or if that’s how it’s done. The tech asked if we wanted to know the gender as soon as we walked in the room, squirted the gel on my stomach and started taking measurements. Asks again if we want to know the gender because she can see it. We again say yes.

And she continues to take measurements.

Then she shows us this.

It’s a TURTLE!

I wish someone else would have been there. I started to cry and B started fist pumping. Like Jersey Shore fist pumping.


Now we just need to come up with and agree on a name.

Because there is absolutely no way I am naming my son Brian Jr and calling him BJ. Putting his twig and berries on the internets is cruel enough.