Father's Day 2010

welcoming our man

He's here!

Liam Michael Smalley

May 25, 2010

9:40 p.m.

8 lbs. 10 oz., 23 inches

We love our man beyond belief. It was quite a journey getting him here (in more ways than one), and I know I will never, ever be the same, now that I have my two babies with me forever. In my overwhelming moments, I know that at least if I died tomorrow, I would have known true love in my life in so many forms, through my husband and the gifts of our two children.

I'm one for gory details, and I have been yearning to write down Liam's birth story since he was born, as it has been the thing it has taken me the longest to adjust to and recover from. Let's just say his birth was NOTHING like Maura's. Here goes...

So, I was supposed to be induced on Monday, May 24th. My mom came into town on the Friday before to help take care of Maura while we were in the hospital. All weekend I was having major contractions and lots of cramping and pressure, and I almost thought for sure I would go into labor on my own. Needless to say, I didn't. Monday morning arrived, and I called the hospital at 6 a.m. as instructed to confirm that they would have space for me. I was told the Friday before by my favorite nurse when I was at the hospital for an NST that there is always a chance that the induction would be delayed or bumped if L & D was too full, but that it rarely happened. She said sometimes people were delayed a few hours but almost never were bumped until the next day.

Just my luck of course, at 6 a.m., they said they had had a crazy night and to call back at 9:30 when they would have a better sense of when I should come in. 9:30 I call, they say to call back in 30 minutes. 10:00 I call, and they tell me to come in for an ultrasound and biophysical profile and then they would decide whether it was necessary to induce me right then or whether I was safe to come back tomorrow. We loaded up our bags, kissed Maura goodbye, and headed to the hospital, only to be home 3 hours later after all the tests came back fine and they determined I could wait until the next day.

I tried to be so understanding and nice to everyone I saw at the hospital, because they all felt terrible about having to delay me after such anticipation. I was, apparently, a once in a long while exception to the general practice of everyone getting induced on their actual scheduled day.

In the end, Tuesday morning came along fast enough and we were off. I was excited more than anything else, and convinced, after my past doctor's appointments and my dilatation, that things would go moderately well, if not quickly and smoothly.

Of course again, I was wrong.

I was hooked up to the pitocin by 9 a.m., and when they came in to check me to get a baseline, I started to get a little nervous. I hadn't dilated any further, was no more effaced, and the baby was high, higher than they originally thought. My Bishop Score was a 5, which basically means on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the most likely for a successful induction, I only had a 50% chance of success (meaning a vaginal delivery without a c-section).

The morning went well, fairly slowly in fact, with the contractions picking up but not too painful. I was dilating slowly, but they pushed for the epidural earlier rather than later in case I shot up fast, which they were still thinking would happen. So by 1 p.m., they were there to numb me up. Which, given the days track record, again did not go well.

They couldn't find the "sweet spot." It took a full hour and two attempts to get the needle in the right place, and right away, I knew things weren't going to go well. I never got fully numb like I remember I did with Maura, and within 10 minutes of them letting Jay back in and them cleaning up,I started to feel like I was going to pass out, likely a combination of the epi and of my vasovagel syncope. Sure enough, they took my blood pressure, and it was low -- like 65/40 low. VERY low. They all kind of panicked and I started crying, knowing it wasn't good. Within a minute they had given me meds to keep me from passing out and to help the nausea, which was unbearable. They kept telling me that this was normal, that lots of people had issues with blood pressure and epi's, but it still felt very surreal and I was very worried I would lose consciousness.

After about a half hour they stabilized me, although my blood pressure remained low, and between contractions that I still felt, I tried to rest. I was really out of it for a while, and my next real memories were around 5:30 p.m., when they checked me again and said I was 10 cm and that it was time to push. I remember being shocked, thinking I wasn't really ready for it yet, because I didn't have that distinctive pressure that signals it's time. But again, my delivery with Maura was so easy because she was so small that I kept trying not to compare.

I must interject and say that both doctors I had been with that day manually checked my belly and said they though the baby was around 7 lbs...

So in my head, we started pushing out a 7 lb. baby. The nurse called the doctor and the pediatrician (when they broke my water there was meconium in the fluid so they needed to take precautions), and I started pushing. Everyone geared up and turned out lights and prepared the warmer and was ready to go.

Within about 15 minutes, I knew it wasn't working. The doctor had an irritated look on her face, the nurses were sort of half helping, and I could just tell I was a ways a way. Sure enough I was, the baby was not coming down. They told me I needed to labor down and save my strength for when I could really push him out. So I sat up and stared to labor down.

At which point, my epidural wore off.

The pain was unimaginable. For the next three hours and 40 minutes that I labored down and pushed, I was the woman everyone dreads. I was screaming, moaning, losing my sense of reality, floating in an out of awakeness, blood pressure dropping, crying, ready to give up. They had to bring the anesthesiologist back to give me more of the epi, but my blood pressure was so low they didn't want to do too much. I remember focusing on Jay's face, as we were often left alone since it was taking so long. I remember the doctor and nurses telling me not to scream, that I was wasting my energy, to get mad, to keep pushing, and I thought for sure (as I imagine most woman do) that I couldn't do it any more. They brought out a mirror to let me see the head coming down, telling me to look for motivation. I looked; all I could see was swelling and blood and pure pain. It was truly, truly bad.

There was all of a sudden talk of shoulder dysplasia, a "big" baby, a baby stuck and unable to "turn the corner." I snapped out of it at the point that everyone in the room, maybe 6 people, all looked at Jay and said "TURN YOUR HEAD!" I saw the scissors come up, and they told me I had torn but the baby was lodged and they had to cut me open. I know they gave me a local; I could feel everything.

3 hours and 40 minutes after I started pushing, out he came with a huge scream from both of us, almost 2 lbs. bigger than anyone expected. I was literally delerious with relief. They took forever to get him to me, like more than a half hour, and this time they didn't let Jay cut the cord. He wasn't in distress, but because of the meconium, they had to give him oxygen and a few more tests, it seems. I just kept asking for him, wanting him in my arms. I was so hot, so tired, and my placenta was taking forever to come out. They kept telling me I had to keep pushing, and I at that point, I didn't care if they had to stick their arms up me to drag it out. I wanted it over, and I wanted my baby.

And then I got him.

He was perfect. Huge. The tallest baby anyone had seen. My mind was finally clear. He looked up at me, so alert, so ready for me. I was in love all over again.

The only thing that seemed the same as Maura's birth was the deleriousness that followed having him in my arms. Jay fed him while they kept cleaning me up, we made some calls, they gave us a new room, I took a shower, Jay and I cuddled in the tiny hospital bed while he went to the nursery for the night.

There are tons more details, but you get the idea. It was tough, amazing, sad and happy all at the same time, to put it mildly. I never hesitated or was concerned that I wouldn't have enough love to share with two babies. And that has remained my reality.

We came home from the hospital early, and there have been the standard adjustments, maybe even amplified more because Maura was such a different baby in so many ways and he's not a typical second child in that way. He's more alert more awake, more vocal. I'd forgotten how anxiety provoking a newborn's screams can be. But after a tough two weeks, I can say I feel strong, ready and happy. None of the tears like last time. Less of the anxiety. To be honest, I worry more about Maura than him. She's a wonderful big sister, pretty much ignoring him save a sweet attempt at covering him with a blanket or handing him a binkie. I've tried to rest, to spread myself between both children and Jay, and to take care of myself. It's been wonderful, in ways I will never be able to fully express, to have this time with Jay and the babies. Of course, I can't imagine how I'll ever return to work. But I will and I know we'll adjust all over again. But right now, even though I'm tired, unshowered, and at the moment, wearing a nightgown over my capri cargo pants because I was having hot flashes but am too tired to get fully ready for bed, I know these moments are the best of my life, and I feel lucky that they are mine.

wow

Well, I lied (unintentionally) about the update...more than a few days has passed. Life kind of took off on us...

Today I am 38w3d, and the baby will receive his eviction notice on Monday, the 24th, at 7:30 a.m. at 39w1d. I'm going to be induced, and as my doctor says, "have a baby by lunchtime." We'll see about that. The past three weeks have been a whirlwind -- we finally finished the baby's room (never try to use dark paint on walls when you have a popcorn ceiling that prohibits a straight edge), got him some clothes of his own, borrowed the swing and bouncy seat and packed my hospital bag. Tomorrow is my last day of work.

I've been dilated and effaced since week 36, so we had a bit of a panic that he was going to come quicker than we anticipated. I've heard every story in the book about how women can walk around dilated to 3 cm for weeks before giving birth, but when it's you, it's different. You feel like you have days, minutes, not weeks. And I have been very nervous about who was going to stay with Maura, how that would all be arranged if I went into labor in the middle of the night, etc. etc. My mom is coming on Friday night to be here to watch Maura, and I feel finally at ease that things will be taken care of without the chaos of a middle-of-the-night labor.

Now, watch me go into labor tonight.

I've had lots of Braxton Hicks contractions, and a few regular ones, but nothing consistent or painful enough to be real labor. That's what's dilating me more, so I'm at least pleased that my body is making progress. The baby is very, very low (my doctor was actually feeling his head during my exam a few weeks ago) and that's more freaky than anything else. He gets angry when I have the contractions, and it feels like he's so low he's going to crawl himself out.

And as you can see from my belly:

He's big. Plenty big. Close to 8 lbs. by this point. Right in the 50th percentile. I was never this pregnant or this big with Maura (she as born at 38 weeks) so sleep is nearly impossible and I have one dress that fits. I have no idea how I've only managed to gain 16 lbs. I think I've eaten my weight in Dunkin Donuts coffee rolls the past few weeks. I guess it's because I really can't sit around like I did when I was pregnant with Maura -- I've got her to take care of and work to do, and weekends are for errands and visits and play, not rest.

And my little 3rd percentile babe?

She doesn't know what's going to hit her. I'm sure all parents feel this way on their second baby, but I do feel genuinely terrible that there's really no way for her to comprehend the situation she's about to be in, no matter how much we talk about it. At 21 months, she's just too young. My only consolation is that she is not going to remember any of this, and that in essence, although we'll have a baby around, to her it will feel like she has more time with me since I'm usually at work all day and see her so few hours in the evening (less than 2 on most days). And since I can't nurse, it's not as if I'm tethered to the baby and can't at any point put him down if she needs me. And she and Jay are so close, and that won't change. I'm sure we're going to see some regression, some whining and crying and unhappiness. But I'm not one to borrow trouble, and I'm just going to behave as though it's all normal and not make a huge deal of it. Because frankly, there's not much I can do about it. He's going to be here on Monday at the latest and will be in her life forever from that point forward. And this is what we wanted, for her to know and love a sibling that was close to her age.

Most of all these past few weeks, I've finally cleared some head space to just be so excited and ready to meet my son. I'm looking forward to it all -- from the labor and delivery to the sleepless nights -- because what it means is that I have my family, my purpose. I'm bound for nothing greater than this, because this is the greatest there is.

I won't make any promises, but I hope to post soon after his birth. I have the emails for all three of you who read this, and of course we'll update facebook.

Say a wish to the universe for us if you think about it, wishes for a healthy baby.

in desperate need of a good update

which I promise I will soon provide, but in the meantime, a bit of good news.

The baby boy is growing! 6 lbs. 3 oz. at my 35 1/2 week ultrasound today. We're looking at a 7 1/2 lb. baby, at least! Yeah! I don't think Maura was 6 lbs. until she was 2 months old.

He's no longer breech, either, which is a shocker, as he has been most of the pregnancy. Literally yesterday I was planning my c-section with the doctor, just waiting for final confirmation at today's ultrasound that he was in fact still breech. Now it's just a waiting game!

I promise an update with pictures later this week.

back to the real world

I've been living so much to make sure I follow all my restrictions, do as I'm told, take it easy, etc. that somehow a month has passed since I last updated.

All is well, as best as can be.

I have done what they have told me, and as a result, I've made it to 32 weeks with no additional complications, and only a few bouts of aches and pains from doing too much. But all and all, just like the bed rest, the restrictions do become second nature after a while. I miss being able to live my life as normal, but it feels like we're finally in the home stretch. I'm so excited to meet him, and I'm trying my best (from a seated position) to do my best to get ready for him. We have most of the things we need, and although I haven't been able to get out a pick out cute outfits and things, we've got the basics and online shopping has become my new evening activity. We're still going to be borrowing a lot, but that's just how it goes. The tape is up in the room, ready to be painted, and that will happen in the next few weeks. I'm back to my usual obsessing; this time, it's about finding the right pj's to take with me to the hospital so I don't have to be in a gown the whole time like I was with Maura. I'll feel so much more human, but I really don't need to obsess quite this much. I'm packing my hospital bag tonight, and had Jay go to Target to get me sample size toiletries so I could have everything I need. I'm making a list tonight, too, of things I need to throw in the bag at the last minute.

I feel comfortable and ready to do all of this because the baby is growing just fine. At our appointment on Wednesday at 32 weeks, he was 4 lbs. 3 oz., just 12 oz. shy of Maura's birth weight, which is pretty unbelievable. He'll grow (hopefully) a half pound a week for the next 8 weeks, so if I deliver around 40 weeks, he should be 8 lbs. or so. Perfect. I'm still nervous about the growth because this is about when Maura stopped, but they're watching me closely and I'm trying to relax. We had a non-stress test today, and his heart rate was great with no contractions on my part. I am breathing a little easier. Here's the man, sucking his thumb like his momma and sister:

Maura is doing great. As I've said before, she's quite the toddler, and it is frustrating for her to want things and not be able to say them. We're working on her speech, and she gets better everyday. She still cannot/won't/doesn't say Momma or Mommy, which is tough. I know once she does say it she'll go overboard and I'll regret that I was worried, but I just don't feel too good about hearing Dada all the time and nothing even close to resembling Momma. I'm trying not to get a complex. At 19 months now, she is smart, creative, adorable, cranky, cuddly, spastic and focused, and every other mix of characteristics you can think of. She is currently obsessed with her activity table my Mom bought her last weekend, and this morning, refused to have her diaper changed and instead insisted on coloring at 6:30 a.m. She looked so beautiful I had to take pictures:



All in all, the next few weeks will fly by, I'm sure, as most of our weekends are fully booked and work is plenty busy and life must go on without us holding our breath. I'm so ready to meet him already, but hoping to hold out just a little while longer.

A Round of Updates

So much for things being pretty uneventful lately. A bunch of updates:

Mauralicious:
At her 18 month appointment, she was a whopping 20 lbs. 14 oz. and 30 inches, down from the 9th to 7th percentile. Can I get a growth spurt? Please? Pedi's not concerned as this basically follows her usual curve, but my word, she's a peanut. But she's doing AMAZING -- running around, talking more, all around a true joy. Meals are still the most frustrating part of the day, but I think it's par for the course for most toddlers so I try not to let it stress me out. Overall, she is like this most hours of most days:


The Momma:
I had a bit of a scare on Friday (at 27w2d) and started bleeding and ended up in labor and delivery, so I'm on bed rest this week and then very restricted activity the rest of the pregnancy. Like, no grocery shopping, no cleaning, no lifting Maura, can only work three days a week; pretty much no anything. It's going to be a massive adjustment and it's taken a few days for it all to sink in. The full extent of it has not yet.

After some initial confusion, it seems the bleeding was caused by a bit of detached placenta (which, frightening as it sounds, is apparently a common cause of bleeding during pregnancy.) They assured me there's plenty of placenta to go around, and that I may, in fact, lose more and keep bleeding off and on for the rest of the pregnancy and still carry to full term. They cannot confirm or detect this on ultrasound unless the placenta is literally detaching itself, so it's nothing but an educated guess we can't predict.

So from now on I go every other week to the doc, and once 32 weeks hits at the end of the month, I'll go every week to her, every week for non-stress tests at the hospital, and every two weeks for a Level 2 ultrasound. This is one of the most examined kids in history, I think. That's all very reassuring, and there's nothing we can do but take it at two week intervals at this point. The next goal is to make it to 32 weeks, which secures him in a good position if he happened to be born (even though he'd be in the NICU for a while) and that's only 4 weeks away, so I feel positive we'll meet that goal. Bed rest is hard, but I'm loving the time at home with both Jay and Maura. The saddest part is now I see what I've been missing everyday when I'm at work and that pretty much breaks my heart.

Here's my belly about 10 days ago, which has increased dramatically in girth since bed rest began (although oddly only up another pound! So bizarre!)


The Little Man:
Despite all of this, the baby is growing GREAT. Huge in fact! He already gained a pound in the last three weeks since my last ultrasound and is 2 lbs. 11 oz. already. Something like the 65th percentile. He's under no stress whatsoever, and as long as I comply with doctor's orders, I'll be doing everything in my power to be sure it stays that way.

I couldn't do this without Jay, as if that even needs to be said. So many men would have given up on me a long time ago, and he continues to show me tremendous patience and strength, and I know this is very hard for him. He has to do everything. Not that I'm much of a housekeeper, but to not even be able to help a little...it's tough, to say the least. And he's exhausted, since his sleep is so off now -- since Maura was born he's gotten to sleep in on the weekends since he works so late at night, and now he can't because I can only lift her once a day to put her into her crib at night for bed when he's at work so I can't get up with her in the morning by myself. We'll be relieved in more ways than one when the baby is born happy and healthy (and fingers crossed, full term). 9 more weeks until full-term; we can do it, I know we can.

That's all for now. Overall, we're managing just fine and have had many a laugh laying on the sofa this week. As much as adversity sucks, it has always helped to bond Jay and me even closer together. I'm so thankful.

quick update

Baby Boy is doing great! 1 lb. 11 oz., 45th percentile, and looking fantastic. Finally I'm 1 lb. over my pre-pregnancy weight. So bizarre, given his size and the size of my belly. And he's no longer breech. Hee haw. I should know tomorrow whether or not I passed my gestational diabetes test.

All for now! Look at that sweet face!

she walks!

On her 17 month birthday on January 21 (and be reminded that 17 months is the cut off for "normal" age for walking), Maura took her first independent steps. From then until now, only two short weeks later, she has gone from taking 3 steps to walking around the house, turning around, squatting and picking things up, and then coming at you with her arms wide open for a hug. As everyone said, I can hardly remember what it was like when she didn't walk. I'm relieved, sure, but more overjoyed that she is enjoying herself so much and getting so confident. She is certainly a full-on toddler at this point, picky about her food, cranky one minute and lovely the next, but I really am lucky that she has stayed quite happy through almost every stage. This face makes up for any amount of half-chewed fish sticks I pick up off the floor.


I'm getting more and more excited for the boy to get here. As much as I love being pregnant, it's so much different this time around, and I know now that's because I know how great it will be when he gets here so I just want him to hurry and up and do it! I'll be 25 weeks on Wednesday and have a hard time believing I have 15 weeks to go. Sleep is tumultuous, depending on the day -- a mix of nightmares, chills, anxiety, insomnia and utter exhaustion. I'm not having to pee 40 times a night like I did with Maura, but paybacks are hell and the alternative is much, much more unsettling. I got so good at peeing at night I could almost do it without opening my eyes. Waking up from a nightmare thinking someone is robbing my house -- not so much.

Otherwise, he seems to be growing fine -- I'm GIGANTIC, as big as I was when I delivered Maura. I've only gained 3 lbs., but the belly is fully out of control. He's a quiet baby during the day, and kicks the hell out of my pelvis at night. It still feels like he's trying to crawl out, and I could seriously use one of those belly support belts but I'm just too ick feeling right now to add some kind of contraption to my wardrobe. I want to be in nothing but pajamas these days. I have another appointment on Wednesday and we'll see then how big he's gotten. Last month he was measuring a week ahead still on ultrasound and my belly was two to three weeks ahead. Yikes. We could have a 10 pounder on our hands.

Here's some more recent photos of the walking. When I can figure out how to upload a video, I will.

22 weeks

Things are going well in the Smalley household. The doldrums of winter have set in and it feels a bit like the same thing every day at this point. Maura is becoming quite independent and quite strong, and everyday I feel a mix of pride and sadness that she is growing up. She'll be 17 months tomorrow, and is almost walking on her own. She'll push every cart or toy in the house imaginable, walking everywhere into walls, and just this last week (and perfected today) she can stand on her own. I think it's a confidence issue at this point, and I give it another week until she's walking all on her own. It really is remarkable to watch her do these things that a few short months ago they said she would never do without tremendous trouble. 17 months is the top of the curve for walking, and developmentally she's always been about 6 weeks behind since she stopped growing at about 34 weeks, so really, we're right on target (or maybe that's just my justification).

The baby boy does not seem to have the same issues, at least at this point. I'm going every month for an ultrasound with the perinatologist and every month to my OB, so literally every other week he's getting poked and proded and looked at, and so far, so good. At last week's ultrasound he was measuring his usual 4 days ahead. Today at the OB, my belly was measuring almost 2 full weeks ahead, at 24 weeks as opposed to my real 22, and I gained 6 pounds this month, which although a lot, brings me even with the 8 lbs I had lost the first trimester. Hard to look at me now and believe I weighed this amount, but differently distributed, before I was even pregnant. Motivation for sure to get my ass in gear after he's born. Regardless, he's had quite a growth spurt even in the course of the week, and while it scares me a little to think about delivering a 10 lb. baby, I'll be thrilled to do it, if it means he's healthy. I look enormous, and have grown so much even over the past week. It really is bizarre to see my body grow along with him.

He's quite active, and breech, so he kicks me in the crotch all day with the occasional flailing punch in the gut. That's the feeling I miss most not being pregnant. While there's nothing like holding them in your arms, a close second is feeling that movement tucked away inside you.

It's cold here, and snowy and grey and wet, and every day I wish for at least 40 degrees so I can thaw out. I've had about enough of winter this year. No signs of spring yet, but hopefully soon.

Here's Miss Attitude and her mother, Miss Holy Hell That's a Big Belly.

holidays in pictures

As is the way around the holidays, there were tears and there was laughter, and in the end (once the tree comes down and the presents are all put away), I am reminded yet again of the real magic -- my baby girl. I would give up every holiday if it meant she would only ever know love.

a change of heart for the new year

When I first started this blog, it was a way to document my pregnancy with Maura and keep people in my life who didn't see us often up-to-date with what was happening. When she was born, I wanted to keep it up and open so that people could enjoy her and the wonderful lady she was becoming. It instead turned into a great vehicle for me to talk about my post-partum issues without fear of judgement or criticism, since I was basically writing into some vapid space. I got to write again, about things I cared about. But now, pregnant again, I'm having a change of heart.

I'm just not cut out for as much openness anymore. This time around, I'm more protective, more attuned to the need to have things of my own that only I think and feel and experience. I've always been an open person, because honestly, there's nothing new under the sun, and I've always felt like hearing the reality of other people's lives has helped me with my own. I am learning to take comfort in the fact that the people that I love know I love them, and that if anything were newsworthy in some way, I would tell them personally. And I've decided that much of my life, apart from the amazing goodness of things that happen with Maura and will happen with our next child, is not going to be shared in the same way. I see now the beauty of keeping between you and your spouse and the four walls you live in the things that are deepest in you.

Through silence and through comments, I've gotten a lot of support on here, and I appreciate that so much. It's been nice for me to imagine who might be on the other end of this, reading about me and us and putting us in their good thoughts, even if just for a moment. As I've said so many times, I'm such a lucky girl that I have this life.

I'm going to keep updating the blog weekly as I have (or as I've tried to) as a place to check-in about Maura and our son (yes! it's a boy!) and keep our family and friends up-to-date. I don't know why I feel the need to say anything more about why I won't be writing quite as personally, but I guess because I have gotten lots of great support I feel like it's the most gracious thing to do.

So, to you three readers, merry christmas and happy new year. See you on the flip side.

a very long week and a half

It started last Tuesday, with an appointment at an orthopedist for Maura. I was almost sick with worry before the appointment. It's a very long story, but the bottom line is that she has been having some challenges standing and walking and we sought out early intervention services at the advice of our pediatrician. EI evaluated her, quickly determined (a little to quickly for our taste) that she was 7 months delayed in her gross motor skills, and sent us panicked off to a brace clinic to meet with a PT about orthotics for her feet. The brace clinic recommended the orthotics, but they weren't like little cookies for your shoes like I thought they would be. They were like full-on braces that came up her above her ankle from her toes, white hard plastic things like a walking cast that they wanted her to wear for 9 months every moment she was awake. To the tune of $1500 (which thankfully we found out insurance would cover). We walked out a little stunned and skeptical. Two days later at our pediatrician, we expressed the same and sent us to this pediatric orthopedist at MGH, some big wig. After we finally made it there Tuesday after 2 hours of traffic, Maura was a mess and didn't want to cooperate but they x-rayed her legs and pelvis and found there were no skeletal issues and recommended that we give it more time until we did anything to intervene, that at not even 16 months, she was far from his estimation of delayed and that EI was basically taking us for a ride.

We were relieved, and pissed. Although it was comforting to have a specialist determine that although he could see the issues with her feet and pronation we weren't going to do the braces, we had to lug all over creation because EI essentially wanted us to sign-up for services. So right now we're just taking it day by day and I feel confident that she'll walk when she's damn well good and ready.

Then Wednesday, we had an awful snow storm, and Jay's car had been having lots of problems, starting and not starting, getting jumped and working and then not just hours later. Anyway, I took the piece of shit to work because I wanted Jay to have the good car to take Maura to yet another doctor's appointment, but he ended up not going in the snow. Needless to say, I was pissed and stressed I wouldn't even make it home from work. After a tense night, I left for work Thursday morning as usual and got a call at 10 a.m.

"Baby, don't panic, but we've been in a car accident."

I almost died. I started to panic, of course, barely hearing what he was telling me. On top of everything else, my cell phone had not been working, so I got what I could about how he and Maura were doing and then left panicked even more that they wouldn't be able to reach me on my drive home.

The ride home is a bit of a blur, but I did reach Jay and he reassured me everyone was fine. Someone ran a red light and he hit her at about 30 miles an hour, trying hard to brake and avoid her. There were witnesses, the car seat did its job and kept Maura safe, and although Jay was so ready to get out and tear into the other driver, he did the best he could to take care of Maura and be sure she was ok and not scared getting checked out by the paramedics and cops. Luckily, the cop that showed up first was a girl Jay went to high school with, who then called for my brother-in-law's best freind and our friend, who is also a cop in town. By the time I reached the area, Jay's brother had picked them up at the scene and brought them home.

It's hard to even describe the mix of relief and terror I felt when I got home and saw them both and Maura looked up at me and said "Hi!" This time last year I was severely depressed, convinced that Jay and Maura were going to die, or that I was going to die. Back then I had plans for how I was going to try to avoid that, ways I was going to negotiate with whoever was going to kill us, get them to just kill me and spare Maura. As twisted as it was, I thought I was in control of those things then because I had a plan. This was totally something I could do nothing about. And I had to trust that Jay had done what he could to protect her and take care of her. It was a very difficult day for all of us.

In the end, everyone is just fine, and there is a silver lining. The car was totaled, and we got an insurance settlement that will allow us to pay off my car and put a down payment on another. It's not an ideal time for us to buy another car, but its the best case scenario out of a really terrifying situation. And we're buying the safest car we possibly can afford. I don't care but it's having no less than 9 airbags.

After a full weekend of feeling both terrified still and very, very grateful, this week is off to a better start, and we're back to gearing up for Christmas. We got a tree. And we find out soon whether we're having a boy or girl, which we'll learn next Wednesday. I'm such a mix of nervous and anxious and excited I'm having trouble sleeping. And I keep biting my nails. And eating brownies for breakfast. And I've gotten a big stress zit. Ahh, wonderful. No really, how could it not be, despite everything else, when I look at my lady bird and pause and realize how amazing it is that I got to be the lucky one to be her mom and am lucky enough to be doing it all again?

she's perfect

That's all.

so.tired.

This will be a short post. I should put it in bullets. This is about all I can manage today.

It's not odd to be tired and pregnant, I just get more and more surprised day after day how this pregnancy has so many more exaggerated symptoms. All day today, and many days so far, I feel like I'm so short of breath that my heart is trying to will it self to pump harder and harder all the way up in my throat. And then I get even more short of breath, because my chest and throat feel so full. And the headaches are killer, and I never get headaches. Not complaining, more observing. It's all so fascinating to me, how aware of your body you become while you grow another. In your enormous belly.
So many things running through my brain these days, probably contributing to my tiredness. Always the struggle to decide if the best use of our money is for me to take off a full maternity leave. We spend so much money on so much shit we don't need and don't need to be doing, all in the name of making everyone else happy or getting a quick moment of damn, I deserve a treat and now I've got it and I feel...like shit. Not better. And time to heal and bond and frankly, get a fucking break from the work I've been doing non-stop since I was 15, should be worth it. But we could use the money to pay off bills, get our fence, fix the pipe, take a vacation. Yet all I really want, at the end of the day, is time to spend with my husband and my babies. Get my body back. Get my hair highlighted and spend a day cuddled on the beach under an umbrella with my baby. Yet it seems like a lot of time to take unpaid and is it a good use of tax money and blah, blah, blah. I'll figure it out.

I'm starting to get anxious (in a good way) for Christmas. Plus, Love Actually is On Demand from now until Christmas and I can watch it whenever I want and cry my eyes out like I usually do when I watch it. Best.Holiday.Movie.Ever.

Maura was excited, too, for a half second, when I pulled out the lights to attempt some kind of artistic photo for our Christmas cards (my other recent obsession). Then, she was out. As am I. I don't care if it's 7:30. I'm going to bed.

13 weeks or so

Happy second tri and Happy Thanksgiving!

It's been 10 days of almost non-stop appointments, for both me and for Maura. Last week I met with a perinatologist who will be following me with monthly ultrasounds for the remainder of the pregnancy to try to head off any complications related to IUGR. I learned a lot from her; namely, that there's not much you can do to reverse the IUGR once it's detected. Bed rest is shown to work only anecdotaly, and there are no medications you can give to "grow" a baby. If it happens, you almost always deliver early, and that's about the best they can do. She was concerned that I may have an underlying blood clotting disorder that may have caused the IUGR; I was tested and just today found out I don't have one, which is good news. However, that still leaves us back to square one with knowing what caused Maura's IUGR, and that knowledge would be useful in preventing it again, but I'm confident I'm in good hands and that things will work out. Antoher huge bonus is that I'll get 3D ultrasounds from now on, which is totally spooky and cool. Here's one from last week: it's kind of hard to tell, but this is a head-on shot of the baby with its hands covering its face. Can you tell?


We found out I'm measuring 4 or so days ahead (pretty significant in the prenatal world), which hopefully means the baby is thriving. They didn't adjust my due date, but may later. We get to find out the gender on December 23 -- what a great Christmas present. We may have to run out a get a little something for him or her to have for this "first" Christmas. I had another appointment today with my regular OB, and things are still looking good. Shockingly down another 3 lbs. (for a grand total of 8 lbs. down since I found out I was pregnant). Jay says it's because I'm not drinking (really, like I drank 8 lbs. worth of alcohol in the average 9 weeks? I don't think so.) I'm trying to be happy about it, as this may help prolong the stage of total bloat and ugliness that is sure to come in the next few months.

Maybe I spoke too soon -- here's a dreadful picture of me from last weekend, at 13 weeks (or almost 14). Either way, I look like a tank. I just spent two long days painting trim. Hey, at least I showered for ya.
I really, truly am bigger than I was with Maura at 20 or so weeks. Oh, well, at least at this stage I look visibly pregnant and not just fat, which was the case with Maura for a while.

She had her pedi appointment today, and at 15 months is 19.5 lbs and 29 inches, which is about the 8th percentile for weight and the 12th or so for height. She wasn't her usual charming self today, probably because she's getting so many vaccines and shots these past few times she's been there she knows what evil plans those people have in store for her. She's having some developmental delays with her gross motor skills, which we've known about and been working on for a while and anticipated since birth given her IUGR, and our pediatrician was great today giving us good advice and referrals and easing our minds a bit. She's still perfect to us and we don't want anyone to treat her differently, so we're trying to maintain a low-profile about it all.

She's still our happy girl.

Who gets into everything.

And is starting to get a bit of an attitude.

I'm trying to work on getting her out and about a bit more, into a playgroup or at least attending a library group of taking swimming lessons or something. The other downside to our current arrangement (although there are many pluses) is that by the time you factor in her two naps and Jay getting ready for work and meals and walking the dog, there's not a whole lot of chunks of time available to go anywhere besides a quick trip to the grocery store. But that means her only stimulation for the day comes from Jay and then me in the evenings, which isn't good. She's great with other babies and she needs friends and time to socialize. It will help her developmentally. Jay's not what one would call a joiner, but it's getting to the point where it has to be done. As much as we want her all to ourselves, and as easy as it is to just stay home, she's got to get out and about. It's well past time.

I hope everyone has a safe and relaxing day tomorrow. I'll check-in again next week.