Nobody Told Me

There was a lot I knew about child birth before having Quinn. I knew about the blood, the stitches, the stitches falling out into the toilet, the possibility of pooping on the delivery table in front of a room full of nurses (and your husband), the possibility of an epidural not working, your baby looking like an alien, and oh so many other lovely things.

What nobody told me about is this:

After being in labor with Quinn for 23 hours and then pushing for 3 hours - I woke up in the middle of the night and felt like I had been hit by a truck. And then that truck went into reverse and ran me over again. Every muscle, every fiber, every inch of my body was sore. Sore beyond belief. I was not prepared for that at all.

Also? I woke up in a puddle of sweat. Shivering, hot, and soaking wet. Nobody told me about that either.

The first surprise - I blame myself for. Before I got pregnant with Quinn I was in pretty good shape. But, after finding out I was pregnant I was scared that my workouts might cause me to have a miscarraige (which, I know, I know, is so not true). Anyway, I stopped working out for those 9 months. I also took that whole "eating for two" to heart. I was pregnant - let me have it. I gained way more weight than I should have.

When I was pregnant with Liam - I continued working out, up until just weeks before delivering him. My workout was also my break from a busy busy toddler. Quinn would go into the child care center and me and my pregnant self would spend 45 minutes on the eliptical. (My doctor did advise I not take any classes for fear of me falling!) I gained just the right amount of weight and if I remember correctly - I didn't feel quite as sore after giving birth to Liam. Of course, labor with him lasted about 8 hours and I pushed for 30 minutes. So, I'm sure that made a difference too.

But that sweating thing? What is that? It happened with Liam too. I would sleep with a towel underneath me so I could easily get rid of it in the middle of the night.

What surprised you the most about labor/delivery?

Over Nine Months Ago

I'm reposting this to participate in Lotus' Birth Story Carnival. You can participate too - just go here! Or just go there to read a bunch of other birth stories!

Anyway - I orginally posted this five months ago - here it is: Liam's birth story followed by a quick recap of Quinn's birth story. Enjoy!

For at least two weeks before Liam was born I kept thinking I was having contractions or that my water was leaking. An exam showed that I was not leaking water and a stress test showed little contractions – irregular, but they were there – starting weeks before he was born.
At a Thursday doctor appointment I learn that I'm to be induced prior to my due date per the instructions of the doctors at Loyola. They want to schedule it for that next day, but I had too much I wanted to finish up at work for the sub. And since they don't induce over the weekend, we scheduled it for Monday morning. All day Friday at work I was busy busy busy getting things ready for the end of the school year and my sub. I left work Friday knowing I was not going back until next school year and feeling relieved knowing everything that needed to be done was done. And also knowing that, even if Baby decides to come this weekend, we will not have to drive in rush-hour traffic to get to the hospital.
Then Saturday came and I was planning on getting a mani and pedi, you know, so my toes and fingers would look good in all the baby pictures. But, I felt crappy all day and didn't feel like going anywhere, or doing anything. At noon I joked with Mike that we should just go to the hospital today. I couldn't eat dinner because I didn't feel good. Then I went to the bathroom and had some spotting and again joked with Mike that we should go to the hospital. After dinner (around 6pm) I started feeling contractions so I called my doctor – she told me to wait until they were more intense or closer together. We put Quinn to bed at 7pm. At 8pm they got more intense, but were not regular or closer together. I was keeping track of them at Contraction Master. I called the doctor anyhow and she said to come on in.

At 8:15 we woke Quinn up and headed to the hospital. (grandma and grandpa came and got Quinn) I remember I insisted on carrying Quinn to the car - I felt like this was such a big night for him - his last night as my only child - I wanted to hold him forever that night.
I was admitted right away and hooked up to a machine that would measure my contractions. From 9pm – 11pm I was handling them pretty well. I was able to breathe through them and focus on one of the buttons on Mike's shirt. Right as I was about to buzz the nurse to ask for something for the pain – she came in and informed me that the doctor wants to send me home, unless I show some progress with the next check. Apparently, my contractions were not intense or regular enough according to the machine. I look at Mike, "How the hell can they send me home? I was just about to ask for something for the pain." And so the nurse checks me out – and surprise surprise I've progressed from 4cm to 7cm. So clearly, something is happening. So I get to stay. Little did I know that in a few hours I'd be begging Mike to "Just Take Me Home. I Don't Want to Be Here Any More and Get These Damn wires off of Me. Now." Those wires - they are so uncomfortable.
I did get an epidural for the pain. Did you know those things work 9 out of 10 times? Yeah, and I was in the 10% group of it NOT working. (Side note – it also didn't work for Quinn) I kept convincing myself that it was, in fact working, but clearly, my attitude to Mike and the Nurse would tell them otherwise. It's a little better, I'd say, after a contraction (not during. I will not discuss what I said during contractions). So from midnight – 4am I suffered through some very bad contractions. Mike suffered through some punches and squeezes and me yelling at him to Just Take Me Home. During those 4 hours the nurse kept asking if I wanted another epidural, maybe this one would take. And I kept saying no. Sitting through an epidural is hard work (and it hurts) and I did not want to attempt that while having horrible contractions. So I just figured I'd go "natural" and do this thing without the epidural. Then at 4:12am the nurse bought the epidural man back into my room. I hear her say, "She says she can't sit through it, but she really needs this." After talking to the guy and him assuring me that we could, in fact, work through the contractions AND place another epidural that would, in fact, work I gave in and let them try it again. I'm not sure what the epidural guy had to drink that night, but it took him like, 16 hours to put in the next epidural. Okay, maybe not 16 hours, but a hell of a long time. And many attempts. I know there were many attempts, because I saw the scars the next day. And it was not easy. But he did it. And I did it. And Mike did it (he left the room for the first one, but felt he was needed much more this time). And guess what. Just guess. It worked! It worked! It worked! If anybody had told me that an epidural was supposed to get rid of ALL the pain I would have asked for another one sooner. I thought it was just supposed to dull the pain. (Maybe somebody did tell me, but I just didn't pay attention. I'm sure I just assumed if I got the epidural it would do what it's supposed to do.) Anyway…so here we are, it's probably 4:30 or so, and I feel like I'm in heaven. ahhh. The next hour I spent sleeping. That's right. I slept through what's supposed to be the hardest part of labor. Only to wake up at 5:30 or so with an urge to, uh, go to the bathroom. Can't I just go to the bathroom? That mean nurse wouldn't let me. Something about me not being able to walk – what with no feeling in my legs in all. But I have to pee. and poop. Oh…just let me poop (and yes, I did say poop – I've got a toddler at home after all, we poop). With a quick check she discovers I'm almost, almost, ready to start pushing. Oh god, I think. That's going to take forever (please note – with Quinn I pushed for 3.5 hours, only to have him taken out with forceps, though if you've been reading this blog for awhile, you already knew that). I was not looking forward to the pushing. Then, at 5:45 I couldn't stand it – the nurse checked again and sure enough, we Can Start Pushing. All of a sudden, it's 6am and she's telling me not to push. She's got to get the doctor. I hear her go in the hallway and yell for someone to please get Dr. Chen. And so, I pipe in, rather loudly, "NOW!" (Those of you who know me, would be very surprised with just how loud I can be during labor/delivery. I was surprised myself.) Two minutes later the doctor is in. She talks me through a set of three pushes. I take a break. Then push some more and Voila! Little Liam makes his way into the world! I feel so relieved. And amazed. That's it? He's here? That wasn't too bad (see how quickly you forget). And then. Then they let me hold him. Right away. I loved it. They didn't even clean him up right away – they just put his tiny, screaming, body on me. I hope to never forget that feeling of holding him for the first time. He grabbed my finger and stopped screaming. I just kept repeating over and over, "He's okay. He's so beautiful. He's okay. He's okay. Look, Mike, he's okay." (see why I was so obsessed with him being okay here.) And then as I'm looking at My Baby (who is not yet named) I tell him, "You know, you're my favorite. Quinn made me push for 3 hours! But you, just 30 minutes. Yup, you're the favorite." And that. That made the doctor laugh as she was fixing me up. I also spent the next few minutes apologizing to Mike, The Nurse, The Doctor, and the Epidural Guy for my previous Rude Behavior. The Nurse assures me that she's seen worse. Sure she has. Sure she has.
And that's my labor and delivery story of this little guy. Four months ago yesterday. It seems like forever ago. We've had a rough first few months, but things are getting better and better every day.

Plus 5 months later - it's better and better - and he's so much fun!

*****

Even though Quinn's birth took over 24 hours - this story will be much shorter. Here's the quick recap.

I was a week past due, my blood pressure was going crazy, and the doctors decided to induce me. So we went to the hospital on Wednesday morning and they started the pitocin at 9am. Around 5pm my contractions were getting a little hard to handle and I asked for the epidural. I was a little confused because I still felt pain, but nothing was regular, everything was all screwy. It was hard - I was in pain - I don't remember much, but the epidural did not work, I started pushing at 3:30am on Thanksgiving morning and at 6:05 Thanksgiving morning our family of two became three. I remember waiting for what seemed like forever for the little guy to cry - my doctor even looked up at me and said, "sometimes it takes awhile for them to start crying, I'm sure he's okay." I later found out that the cord was wrapped around Quinn's neck, which is why I didn't get to hold him right away. Which is also probably why his heart rate started going screwy during the pushing process and why they started talking about an emergency c-section.

Now over 3 years later Quinn is proving to be one of the easiest babies I've ever had and he's still a pretty easy going kid. I often use the term "adjustable" when I talk about him. Yes he has his moments, like any 3-year-old, but really, I got pretty lucky with his fun personality.

A True Miracle

There are days when I'm reminded just how much of a miracle this is.
Lately, I've been having more and more of those days and today was another. I just wanted to get home, hug my boys, and remember what a true blessing they are to me. Hugs to all of you.

Four Months Ago: A Story of Labor

For at least two weeks before Liam was born I kept thinking I was having contractions or that my water was leaking. An exam showed that I was not leaking water and a stress test showed little contractions – irregular, but they were there – starting weeks before he was born.
At a Thursday doctor appointment I learn that I'm to be induced prior to my due date per the instructions of the doctors at Loyola. They want to schedule it for that next day, but I had too much I wanted to finish up at work for the sub. And since they don't induce over the weekend, we scheduled it for Monday morning. All day Friday at work I was busy busy busy getting things ready for the end of the school year and my sub. I left work Friday knowing I was not going back until next school year and feeling relieved knowing everything that needed to be done was done. And also knowing that, even if Baby decides to come this weekend, we will not have to drive in rush-hour traffic to get to the hospital.
Then Saturday came and I was planning on getting a mani and pedi, you know, so my toes and fingers would look good in all the baby pictures. But, I felt crappy all day and didn't feel like going anywhere, or doing anything. At noon I joked with Mike that we should just go to the hospital today. I couldn't eat dinner because I didn't feel good. Then I went to the bathroom and had some spotting and again joked with Mike that we should go to the hospital. After dinner (around 6pm) I started feeling contractions so I called my doctor – she told me to wait until they were more intense or closer together. We put Quinn to bed at 7pm. At 8pm they got more intense, but were not regular or closer together. I was keeping track of them at Contraction Master. I called the doctor anyhow and she said to come on in. At 8:15 we woke Quinn up and headed to the hospital. (grandma and grandpa came and got Quinn)
I was admitted right away and hooked up to a machine that would measure my contractions. From 9pm – 11pm I was handling them pretty well. I was able to breathe through them and focus on one of the buttons on Mike's shirt. Right as I was about to buzz the nurse to ask for something for the pain – she came in and informed me that the doctor wants to send me home, unless I show some progress with the next check. Apparently, my contractions were not intense or regular enough according to the machine. I look at Mike, "How the hell can they send me home? I was just about to ask for something for the pain." And so the nurse checks me out – and surprise surprise I've progressed from 4cm to 7cm. So clearly, something is happening. So I get to stay. Little did I know that in a few hours I'd be begging Mike to "Just Take Me Home. I Don't Want to Be Here Any More and Get These Damn wires off of Me. Now."
I did get an epidural for the pain. Did you know those things work 9 out of 10 times? Yeah, and I was in the 10% group of it NOT working. (Side note – it also didn't work for Quinn) I kept convincing myself that it was, in fact working, but clearly, my attitude to Mike and the Nurse would tell them otherwise. It's a little better, I'd say, after a contraction (not during. I will not discuss what I said during contractions). So from midnight – 4am I suffered through some very bad contractions. Mike suffered through some punches and squeezes and me yelling at him to Just Take Me Home. During those 4 hours the nurse kept asking if I wanted another epidural, maybe this one would take. And I kept saying no. Sitting through an epidural is hard work (and it hurts) and I did not want to attempt that while having horrible contractions. So I just figured I'd go "natural" and do this thing without the epidural. Then at 4:12am the nurse bought the epidural man back into my room. I hear her say, "She says she can't sit through it, but she really needs this." After talking to the guy and him assuring me that we could, in fact, work through the contractions AND place another epidural that would, in fact, work I gave in and let them try it again. I'm not sure what the epidural guy had to drink that night, but it took him like, 16 hours to put in the next epidural. Okay, maybe not 16 hours, but a hell of a long time. And many attempts. I know there were many attempts, because I saw the scars the next day. And it was not easy. But he did it. And I did it. And Mike did it (he left the room for the first one, but felt he was needed much more this time). And guess what. Just guess. It worked! It worked! It worked! If anybody had told me that an epidural was supposed to get rid of ALL the pain I would have asked for another one sooner. I thought it was just supposed to dull the pain. (Maybe somebody did tell me, but I just didn't pay attention. I'm sure I just assumed if I got the epidural it would do what it's supposed to do.) Anyway…so here we are, it's probably 4:30 or so, and I feel like I'm in heaven. ahhh. The next hour I spent sleeping. That's right. I slept through what's supposed to be the hardest part of labor. Only to wake up at 5:30 or so with an urge to, uh, go to the bathroom. Can't I just go to the bathroom? That mean nurse wouldn't let me. Something about me not being able to walk – what with no feeling in my legs in all. But I have to pee. and poop. Oh…just let me poop (and yes, I did say poop – I've got a toddler at home after all, we poop). With a quick check she discovers I'm almost, almost, ready to start pushing. Oh god, I think. That's going to take forever (please note – with Quinn I pushed for 3.5 hours, only to have him taken out with forceps, though if you've been reading this blog for awhile, you already knew that). I was not looking forward to the pushing. Then, at 5:45 I couldn't stand it – the nurse checked again and sure enough, we Can Start Pushing. All of a sudden, it's 6am and she's telling me not to push. She's got to get the doctor. I hear her go in the hallway and yell for someone to please get Dr. Chen. And so, I pipe in, rather loudly, "NOW!" (Those of you who know me, would be very surprised with just how loud I can be during labor/delivery. I was surprised myself.) Two minutes later the doctor is in. She talks me through a set of three pushes. I take a break. Then push some more and Voila! Little Liam makes his way into the world! I feel so relieved. And amazed. That's it? He's here? That wasn't too bad (see how quickly you forget). And then. Then they let me hold him. Right away. I loved it. They didn't even clean him up right away – they just put his tiny, screaming, body on me. I hope to never forget that feeling of holding him for the first time. He grabbed my finger and stopped screaming. I just kept repeating over and over, "He's okay. He's so beautiful. He's okay. He's okay. Look, Mike, he's okay." (see why I was so obsessed with him being okay here.) And then as I'm looking at My Baby (who is not yet named) I tell him, "You know, you're my favorite. Quinn made me push for 3 hours! But you, just 30 minutes. Yup, you're the favorite." And that. That made the doctor laugh as she was fixing me up. I also spent the next few minutes apologizing to Mike, The Nurse, The Doctor, and the Epidural Guy for my previous Rude Behavior. The Nurse assures me that she's seen worse. Sure she has. Sure she has.
And that's my labor and delivery story of this little guy. Four months ago yesterday. It seems like forever ago. We've had a rough first few months, but things are getting better and better every day.

Pottery Barn Names

Who needs a baby-name book when you could easily use a Pottery Barn catalog??
Here's just some of the names that are used in the catalog:

Clarissa
Spencer
Drew
Grayson
Montego
Emerson
Louis
Megan
Tanner
Skylar
Elliott
Leah
Valencia
Pearce
Benson
Raleigh
Eagan
Adeline
Margaret
McKenna
Whitney
Chelsea
Meryl
Solano
Collins
Bella
Emmett
Julia
Cooper
Addison
Brant
Wynn
Sebastiano
Florence
Camarron
Cody
Trevor
Weston
Shelby
Samantha
Bradley
Blaine
Roseanne
Logan
Franklin
Brady
Ellis
Porter
Aris
Malika
Adelle
Elanor
Cole

Don't Say It

Don't Say:
"You look like you dropped."
"You're still here?"
"Did you pop?"
"You look so cute."
"You don't look tired or uncomfortable or anything. I can't believe your due it ___ days."

Life Cycles

Interesting...
So I'm waiting for this baby to decide to be born. When that happens I will stop working and my aide was planning on taking over my position until the end of the year. And now...
My aide's twin sister, who has been fighting a brain tumor for years, is not doing well at all. They have given her two-three days, but we've heard that before (in January).
Anyway...the two of us were talking about how interesting it is that both of us may not be able to work at the same time. Both waiting for something we have no control over and each being at opposite ends of the life cycle.

The Things People Say

Many many people at work keep telling me I'm not nearly as big as I was when I was pregnant with Quinn. Which is true. I've gained less than HALF of what I gained with Quinn. But each time someone says something I can only imagine how big they thought I was when I was pregnant with Quinn. And then last night I come home and Mike says, "You're Huge!" So I can only imagine how HUGE he thought I was last time. No worries though. In my opinion I AM huge.

The Short Lists

So we still don't know what this baby will be called. We had a short list and now have a new short list and don't think well use any of the names from the first short list. Our favorites from the old list were Sam and Liam and I was sure the baby would be one of those. Not sure what happened to change our minds...

Old Short List

1. Sam
2. Liam
3. Neil
4. Sean

New Short List

1. Sawyer
2. Wyatt
3. Cooper
4. Peter

Names That We Like, But Are "Taken"

1. Oliver
2. Aidan
3. Ryan
4. Jack
5. Collin
6. James
7. Henry

-able

Uncomfortable.

I kept forgetting to have Mike take my picture with my belly. I waited too long. By the time this was taken I look awful. I've felt so uncomfortable for the past two weeks and just want this baby out. I'm tired of being big, having to pee, and not being able to sit comfortably.

Bearable

Mike has been so good these past few weeks - taking care of Quinn and the house. He's made these past few weeks just a bit more bearable.

Trainable

Not only did we successfully toilet train Quinn, but we were also able to train him to sleep until 6:30. Once he was potty trained he started waking up at 4:45 to pee and then thought it was time to get up for the day. No way. So we purchased an alarm clock, taught him to wait for the music, and can now sleep until 6:30! (That is until Baby arrives)

Adorable
Our friends had their baby in mid-April. We got to see him when he was just 2 weeks old (I think). He was just adorable and seemed so content the entire time we were there. Of course, we all know that the honeymoon with babies is over at 8 weeks...so hopefully things are still going well.

WhoWho

So I was hoping to post a picture of the baby's room, but apparently that's still in my camera and not yet uploaded to the computer. So instead, enjoy this ultrasound picture that was taken a few weeks ago. At that time little boy McNulty was measuring 3 weeks ahead for his weight and 5 weeks for his head size. But no talk of changing my due date or inducing me. I have another ultrasound on the 30th to check on the state of the kidney thing. It doesn't sound like a big deal and the doctor is just being careful (and collecting more insurance money).

Also, enjoy this picture of an owl. I post it here because sometime this week Quinn and I watched Bambi, or at least the first 30 minutes. And remember the beginning when all the animals are singing together? And the owl is singing, "Who who," but not a deep "who who," more of a nice sweet "who who." Well it turns out to be Quinn's favorite part and he's been singing "Whoo whoo" ever since. Sometimes during dinner, sometimes in the car, but always out of the blue. And he likes when Mike and I join in with the "who who." We've since watched Bambi a few more times, but never making it more than 40 minutes into the movie.

A Little Privacy

We've discovered that Quinn likes to poop with nobody watching. Who doesn't, right? So, this weekend we've taken to saying, "I'll be right back" and then leaving the room, because normally, when it's just pee we'd wait for him to finish and tell him what a great job he was doing. And all of a sudden, the minute we'd step out of the room he'd poop. And today he told me, "No, mommy, go be right back." Because he wanted privacy while he peed. He finished and then said, "Come look mommy, just pee pee."
See what you all have to look forward to?????

Oh...and I read this labor story and I can only hope this one is as smooth as hers was. (Just FYI - I was in labor with Quinn for about 20 hours and then pushed for 3.5 only to have him be yanked out with forcepts. Yet something else you all may have to look foward to one day)

So we're not ready at all. You should see the baby's room. Maybe I'll take a picture and show you how far we've gotten. Let me just list what's in there right now:
Quinn's old dresser (will stay)
Quinn's old night stand (will stay)
Two twin beds (in boxes) that Mike needs to assembly one for Quinn and we'll store the other.
A tall book shelf filled with tons of books (to be moved into the basement)
Tons of books on said shelf.
An old rocking chair (to be sold)
Two kid-sized chairs (to be sold...or given back to Mike's mom)
An old end table (no idea what we're doing with this)
A piece of our sectional (to be moved into the basement)
three comforters
a bag full of sheets
a doll that pees
some other random toys stored in the old end table
two nice white shelves that will stay with
some stuff on there that will not.
our old kitchen table taken apart so that the top is resting against a wall and the legs are blocking the closet door
a closet full of:
my "fat" clothes"
some baby clothes (like two outfits, I think)
pillows
extra blankets
suit cases

I'm sure there's more, but I'll take a picture this weekend just to show you all. Prior to last night we also had three boxes of Winter Stuff that Mike moved into the attic without me even asking him for the tenth time! =)

A Week

Okay. So I haven't written about this yet, because, well, I didn't want to think too much about it.
After having my ultra-sound three weeks ago, my doctor called me and left he following message, "I saw a cyst on the baby's abdomin and you'll need to have a Level 2 ultra sound done at Loyola. There's no real need to worry. They will call you to make an appointment."
Okay, so I worry and wait for them to call. They finally call the next day and we schedule the appointment for the 19th (today).
Two weeks ago I went to the doctor for a check-up and he was upset that they took so long to get me in. "Do they know how far along you are?" he asked. I don't know, does it really matter. "Well, in cases of Level 2 ultrasounds we like you to see them before you're 24 weeks in case you decide to terminate the pregnancy." WHAT! At the time I couldn't comprehend how upset that statement had made me, I just reacted with, "Well, that's not really an option for us either way." And in my head I'm thinking how could somebody decide to terminate after feeling the baby move around in there.
And then later that week I got an email update letting me know what's going on with the fetus and it says, "your baby could survive if delivered this week (23 weeks) with extreme medical care." So, it's legal to terminate a pregnancy before 24 weeks, but if your baby is born at 23 weeks there is a chance of survival. That really hit me hard.
So, for the past three weeks I've been waiting for this appointment - with my moods varying from totally depressed about what could be to thinking I just have to wait to find out what we're dealing with before I get too emotional or anything (not very easy when you're pregnant).
And then today was the day of the ultra-ultra sound as we started calling it. And boy was it involved. She measured everything - had me laying on my sides. The nice thing was she was showing us what she was measuring as she was going along. After she was finished (about 45 minutes) she said something to the effect, "I'm not sure if what they saw was just the galbladder, but I would think that they'd know what that looks like." At Loyola, the doctor is able to watch the ultra-sound in the other room as it goes on and look at pictures right away, so after she was finished he came in and explained that maybe what my doctor saw was liquid in the bowel, which cleared itself, or because his (the baby's) galbladder is more prominant then most, that might have been what concerned my doctor. So it was literally, nothing. Or is was something that cleared itself, but is now nothing. The Loyola doctor did feel that the part of the kidney that holds waste was a bit large, but he wasn't too concerned - we just need to go back in a month to measure it again to see if everything is going on there. But even if it's not, it's not a huge deal. Mike could explain this part better, I was just in a daze because it was nothing. Three weeks of ups and downs, of not wanting to think too much about decorating, of not wanting to talk too much about the baby with everyone and we find out it's nothing.
It was pretty cool (minus the anxiety) having this ultra-ultra sound - the pictures seemed clearer and we got more pictures for the scrapbook. = )

What I Heard.

On the way home from my uncle's house.

Mike: "We should get a pomegranate."
Me: "Why?"
Mike: "So I could hold it and cuddle it."
Me: "What!?"


But what he actually said was, "We should get a Pomeranian."

It's a Boy!

And there's only one baby in there.

Stupid Principles

So I never go for the optional shots. When Quinn was younger there was some shot that would prevent ear infections - not required, so I didn't go for it. And he has yet to get an ear infection. Every year they ask if I want him to have a flu shot - no thank you.
It's not the pain of the shot that I'm avoiding, it's the fact that you're putting something in your body to help fight off an illness. An illness that in reality your body should be able to fight off, and in my opinion, needs to be able to fight off. The same with antibiodics - when the doctor says, this might help, or the illness will wear itself out in a week or so, I tend to go for no drugs.
And so, a few months ago my doctor was trying to convince me to get a flu shot - being pregnant and all. I never get the flu shot, even though one of the three nurses at work strongly recommends it and even gets a little angry when I say no over and over. (There's another nurse that agrees with me and sees no point in me getting it.) Anyway, so this doctor was trying to convince me and the more he pushed the more I said no.
And then Saturday morning I woke up feeling pretty crappy. Sore throat, headache, you know. And Sunday it was even worse - add the chills, body aches, all the good stuff that goes along with the flu.
I don't really regret not getting the shot, because who knows, I may have gotten this flu anyway. But I hate being sick. Especially when pregnant, because every drug out there says, "Check with your doctor if you are pregnant or nursing." And so, I'm going to my doctor this morning to see what she thinks - maybe it's an ear infection, because my ears hurt too. But then again, everything hurts. And I'm such a baby.

UPDATE: I just got back from the doctor. Turns out I have bronchitis and pneumonia. She was a little surprised when I seemed happy about this - I thought for sure it was the flu and I'd be told to go home, rest, and drink lots of fluids. Instead, I'm told I have fluid in my lungs, need antibiotics (no choice here) and will feel better in 72 hours. I'd much rather hear this, then "Oh, there's nothing much we can do. Just rest it out 'til it clears."

Hey - Happy New Year!

So, it's been awhile. Almost a month...that's a long time for me.

Anyway, quick updates - the party went well, in my opinion. I had a good time, but was a little disappointed I couldn't have a few drinks - seems like since I've been pregnant I crave beer. And normally, I hate beer. Just one craving I can't give in to. What else do you crave, you might ask. Well, fruit. It started with oranges. Oh, those oranges. Yum. And grapefruit. And now I've moved on to apples - with peanut butter. And I just made Mike buy some cherries from the store, only because I saw them in a book we were reading to Quinn and thought that would be good. I saw them in a book - and I wanted them. At least my call for cherries came on the night Mike goes to the store anyhow. The other night we went out and got pickles and strawberries for me. That's right, pickles. How typical is that??? At least this time I don't crave all the horrible food that I did with Quinn - like cake, brownies, and cookies. Maybe I won't gain 70 pounds again. That would be nice.

We're having our ultra sound next Monday (the 29th). It was originally scheduled for TOMORROW, but I start a class out in DeKalb and had to change the appointment. Darn priorities. I'm anxious to learn boy or girl - if only so I can continue my nesting instincts and go through all of Quinn's old clothes. We're not sure this would be the last, so my plan, if it is a girl, is to either donate or sell all of the really old boy clothes (we're lucky enough to get lots of hand-me-downs, but some are from Zach, to Nick, to Henry, to Quinn - and really, they're just not cutting it anymore. That and Zach is like 11 or so now) and then I'll save all then nicer outfits, just in case we decide to have another. I might do the same if it's a boy, but I'd probably keep more of the old stuff. We'll see.

We ordered a new kitchen table from Carson's and I am so excited. Not only will it be our style, but I won't need to use a table cloth every day, which gets a little old when you have a 2 year old sitting at the table with you. Right now, we have a beautiful table from Mike's grandmother. But, it needs to be covered, and the chairs aren't the most sturdy chairs you've sat on. The thing is, it has to stay in the family, so if Mike's mom doesn't want it, we'll be storing it in our basement.

I'm procrastinating - I've got 38 report cards to do and so far I've only done 9. And that's not the narratives. Ugh.

Bugs in the Bathroom

So quite awhile ago I stepped out of the shower in the morning to see a HUGE bug on the wall of my bathroom. It was about as long as my hand is wide, orange, skinny, and had a ton of legs and two really long antennea. So I grabbed a towel and ran out of the bathroom hoping that Mike hadn't left for work yet. But, he had. So I composed myself, caught my breath, and grabbed some tissue to go in there and take care of it. (I figured Quinn wasn't yet old enough to hold the responsiblity of killing bugs for Mommy, not yet, but soon he will be.) So, I stood in the doorway and looked at the bug, then at my tissues, and decided I needed something else. So I went back to the living room and grabbed a magazine. There, that should do it. Ready to kill I entered the bathroom only to NOT BE ABLE TO FIND THE DARN BUG! So, I got dressed and ready in a different room, even used the toilet in the basement, where I found a little tiny spider and quickly killed it. Later that morning, after Quinn was up, I went to get something from the bathroom, glanced into the sink, and there it was! Trying to get up over the edge of the sink, but that thing couldn't do it. So, I grabbed the magazine, and repeatedly smooshed the thing - because after the first hit, it was still moving! After about 10 or so smashes, I stopped, left everything in the sink, and went to work. I called Mike and told him he had to check the sink for a bug carcus. Later that night he told me, "That was not a bug, that was an alien." Apparently, the thing had turned green after being dead. Ugh. My only regret was not getting a picture of it so we could find out exactly what it was.
A few weeks after that, I got out of the shower, went out of the bathroom and told Mike to go in there and take a picture of the bug on the counter and then kill it. And this is what he saw:

In case you can't read it - it's positive and we're due June 7, 2007! I heard the heart beat today!

We'll be having an ultrasound in January. In the mean time go here and guess what sex the baby will be!