I admit it, I like it when you do manual labor.

As some of you may be aware, or as most of you are about to find out, I’m a member of the MOPS group at my church.  MOPS meaning Mothers of Preschooler’s.  As by member I mean I just joined the steering committee.    And yes, I do belong to a church and we do attend.

 

I bring this up because this last meeting was about the 5 Languages of Love.  In case you haven’t heard of it, the 4 Languages of Love is the idea that each of us has different ways we express love to those around us.  Some people like gifts, others physical touch.  Some people like compliments or quality time.  Or you could be like me.  You like people showing you love with manual labor.
Ok, not manual labor but as we watched a bit of a video about how we show others love or how they show us love I heard the angels sing and there was a light flowing into the room.  That might not have happened, but at one pointed the speaker said “If you wonder what your love language is think about what upsets you most.”  I realized that my love language isn’t presents or being kissed or held (though that is nice), it’s when people do things for me.  And in this house it’s picking up.

 

I realize that we all have different things we may or may not be ok living with, clean wise, but to be blunt, clutter makes me insane.  When I was on strict bed rest the hardest thing for me wasn’t the staying in bed and not playing with Bug, although that was very, very hard.  The hard part for me was when I had my few moments I could get up and go into the kitchen to get something to eat or drink was walking past the clutter.  I didn’t even lie on the couch like I was allowed because I knew seeing Bug’s toys all over would drive me up a wall.

 

I also realize that Jason has extremely different ideas of what is and isn’t clutter.  I’ve really worked hard to come to terms with the fact that things cannot be as tidy and organized as I’d love them to be because, frankly, this is his home too and he needs to be able to enjoy it without feeling like I’m going to go crazy white girl if there is something on the floor.

 

Knowing that I perceive my value to him by how he picks up after himself or cleans his bathroom  makes me more aware of how my husband does try and tell me he loves and values me.  I admit tonight it didn’t stop me from wanting write up a check list for how the kitchen is actually cleaned.  It did; however, stop me from actually doing it.

 

I’ve asked him to sit down and take the quiz too.  I actually don’t know what his love language actually is and I know if I guessed I’d get it wrong.  Besides, I don’t want to guess, I want to know what it is so that I can use it to tell him how much he means to me.

And Mouse makes four.

My doctor called an end to the game of chicken with my blood pressure at week 37.  This meant that Mouse would be full term and hopefully avoid my BP blowing while in labor and delivery again.   So that meant I was scheduled to be induces on Wednesday November 9th.  Dr. Suk told me to be at the hospital by 7am that morning.

Knowing what I know now I would have insisted that we stop at McDonald’s and get the the largest breakfast I could get my swollen hands on.

I got suited up in the hospital johnny and into bed while Jason put my things away and scoped out the comfy chair.  Dr. Suk arrived and decided my BP was low enough that I could walk so she decided to break my water.  After messing around for a few moments and testing my ability to not slap her when she’s causing me pain, Suk wasn’t sure she’d gotten the job done so she ordered the Pitocin.

They got the IV started and after spending the better part of 2 months doing not much of anything I wanted to get up and walk so my nurse hooked me up to the portable monitors and Jason and I did out laps in the hallway.  Being who he is he timed my laps and was impressed with my split times.  Labor started slow and I was actually impressed with how I was doing and enjoying a far different labor than with Kyle.  I could speak and move without vomiting.  I even labored in the tub for a while.

During our walk we noticed something very important.  The room I was given was the same room I had Bug in which was really odd because we passed more than a few empty rooms on the way down.  It would be tempting to have another baby just to see if I got the same room again.  Jason doesn’t think that’s funny.

It really wasn’t until mid-afternoon when I was starting to wonder if this was going to go as we’d planned and Ivy would be born by dinner time.  It turns out she decided she wouldn’t make her debut until breakfast the next day.

I’d get into a pattern of really great and strong contractions and then it would fall apart and there just wasn’t much pressure on my cervix to open it up.  By 10pm Suk  was ready to call it and have an OB come in for a c-section.  By then labor had gone on for 13 hours and I wasn’t going past a 4.  Of course now when the OB checked I’d progressed to a 5.

My doctor decided to let me labor another two hours and see if I got any further.  If not, c-section.  If I did we’d let it go on.  Well I did progress, but, of course, I didn’t get too far.  Just far enough that she didn’t want to go to a c-section but not far enough for me to feel like the end was anywhere near.  That’s when I had my first break down.  I was getting no where fast and I knew I’d still have to actually push.  I also hadn’t eaten since 5:30 am the now previous day and because a c-section was looming I was also not allowed even ice chips anymore.

I napped on and off, rolled over when the nurse came in to help and had to have my epidural upped once.  My Pitocan was being adjusted on a regular basis to keep me contracting harder in the hopes Mouse’s head would finally drop more and put more pressure on my cervix.

It took another eight and a half hours and by that time I was beyond tired, frustrated, hungry and mentally exhausted.  I finally had it, I broke down sobbing and pretty much told Suk I was done with labor.   I had decided either I was going to push this baby out or she was calling the OB to do a c-section if I wasn’t fully dilated.     Jason was sure I wasn’t going to have enough in me to push.  I was pretty sure he was right but I was at a 10 so I had to at least try.

Somehow I managed, after 21 hours of labor, almost 24 hours in the hospital and 23 hours since eating, to push.  In between pushes I napped and 45 minutes, just past 24 hours after I was admitted Ivy was born.

When the nurses went to weigh her they realized that she wasn’t breathing.  I wasn’t sure how serious it was until my doctor left me in the hands of the floor resident and she began to do chest compressions on my daughter.  Then I heard them call for a crash cart.  There were people flooding into the room, including the NICU doctor and they were all around my daughter with looks of concern on their faces.  All I could do was hold Jason’s hand squeeze.

I don’t know that I breathed until I heard a nurse say “I got it.”  And I didn’t move until I saw my doctors face.  She’s a damn good poker player in a lot of ways but once I saw the relief on her face I knew that, while Ivy might be sick, she wasn’t in danger anymore.

They bundled her up and put her in my arms and Jason and I spent time saying hello to her before they took her to the NICU.

It seemed like forever before the doctor came back but the news was fantastic.  Ivy was pink and breathing.  Her vitals were great and unless there was a problem she was only going to stay in NICU for 8 hours.

I, on the other hand, was not doing well.  I wasn’t able to keep any thing down and when I got out of bed I came extremely close to passing out and also ended up with an emergency team in the room.  I was put back into bed and slept.

A few hours later I was ok enough to have an aid take me to NICU to see my  baby girl who was doing fantastic and she was with me in my room again by dinner.

When she’s 16 and I tell her she can’t have the car I’m going to make her read this.

I confess

I have to confess I am probably one of the worlds worst bloggers. Even when I was younger I’d start a diary and keep it for a while then just stop writing in it. I guess it was partly knowing someone might read my most personal thoughts and realizing those thoughts were boring as hell is what always did it.

In this case it’s the discipline to sit down and do it that’s lacking. Oddly right now discipline is the word of the king in this house as Bug is currently making me think I might possibly be speaking in some odd language that I only think is English, that he cannot understand.

So far this second pregnancy has made a lie of my first trimester statement that “I don’t even feel pregnant”. The pregnancy of Jelly Bean is officialy high risk as my blood pressure decided to stay elevated. The good news is that it’s not pre-eclampsia.  It is however not the ideal.

The last month and a half has been spent attempting to “take it slow” while I go to weekly doctor appointments, bi weekly non stress tests and blood work every few weeks. I should have my own parking spot at Suk’s office, or at least be included in the Drug Rep lunches.

All this has shown that my daughter is growing well despite my BP.  It also means she’ll miss being pre-mature by a week. I’m going to be induced in 10 days to avoid actually going into the danger zone.

So, there’s going to be a new face at the Thanksgiving table this year and Bug is waiting to his baby sister to arrive. He’s got his own baby he’s taking care of, when he’s not sitting on it’s head.  He’s also been looking over the tiny things going into his room. I give him 3 days before he asks if we can take her back to Target.

Next up the TARDIS

Like most kids his age Bug likes to try to get out of going to sleep by asking to go potty, for a drink or a  story.  He’s getting somewhat creative in his requests though.  Like the night he kept bobbing and weaving his way around Geekdad finally crawling into my lap to announce he could not go to sleep because he had to “Watch The Doctor with mama”.

 

Yes, at the time I was watching Doctor Who.  He did sit and watch it with me.  The best part?  He knows Chris, David and Matt are all The Doctor.  Just the other night Geekdad was on the desk top and was reading something.  Bug went around the corner and I heard him say “That’s The Doctor!”.  Geekdad asked him if I’d put him up to it.

 

I think as a parent we all enjoy it when our kids show interest in our interests.  It’s something we can share and enjoy together.  Geekdad and Bug watch a lot of sports together and Bug seems to really be starting to like football.  He also watches daddy play Batman on the Xbox 360 and he now loves Batman, or so he tells me.

 

We all know we pass our genetics on to our kids.  Just watching Bug I can see a lot of his dad and me in him but he doesn’t choose those things.  He’s choosing to ask to watch sports with his daddy or to Star Wars with us.  It’s the start of a child showing something  beyond the parroted please and thank yous are sinking in.  We are shaping this tiny person for better or worse.

 

By Christmas I hope I can get him to say Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.

Just when you think it’s all good.

After answering the question “how’s this pregnancy going?” and telling everyone that this time around has been going great and I hardly feel pregnant 24 weeks and 5 days threw a wrench on things and my blood pressure ended up putting me on bed rest for almost a week and a “short leash” (quote the doctor), for the foreseeable future with the promise of more bed rest if my blood pressure goes back up.

 

When we spoke about having another child we figured we’d give it a chance, it had been so hard with Bug and we really expected to spend a few months trying and half expected to still be one child parents at the end of it.  Never in a light year had either of us expected to find out we were going to have another baby after two months.

 

After the positive pregnancy test, ok 6 tests, I geared up to puke for the next 9 months but that didn’t happen either.  I didn’t get so tired I feel asleep at 4am, I didn’t spend hours obsessing over certain foods.  Just food in general.   The pregnancy was what every women dreams of for herself.   Sure the doctor and I both talked about watching my BP, we figured it “might” happen but neither one of us really expected it to happen until it did.

 

On the whole I’m so lucky that it looks like I’ll just end up on meds and close monitoring the rest of my pregnancy it really could be so much worse and I remind myself of that.  It’s still annoying as hell though.

 

It’s hard to realize until you can’t anymore how often you get up during a lazy day.  I mean, it’s easy to think it’ll be fun to do nothing until you need a cup of water or get hungry.  Then it gets annoying.  Because asking for a cup of water or a sandwich when you’re over 5 makes you feel a little, well, like you can’t take care of yourself.  It’s even worse when you know your bathroom needs to be cleaned or the cats need water.

 

This all started though just went I figured nothing could really go wrong.  I was moving along, gaining little weight, working out and enjoying my almost mom squared status.  I had always thought if my BP was going to go up this time it would go up way earlier.  I never saw this coming.  Things had been going too great.  The monthly appointment was almost boring with the lack of issues.  I was more concerned about the bother of going into labor at Thanksgiving.   Now I’m just shooting for Thanksgiving.

 

I’ll take this though because  at the end of it I get a little baby girl to dress in pink and purple and sparkles.

You’d think “go home, get into bed” would be good news.

While I was pregnant with Bug my BP was high.  It was high through the whole pregnancy and fairly consistent so my doctor watched me and we took it a visit at a time.    This time around I’m much thinner, eat much better, work out and drink lots of water so watching my BP was really a caution given my history.

Or so I thought.   On Thursday I developed contractions that would start if I was on my feet more than 20 to 30 minutes at a time.  On Saturday a headache that wouldn’t go away took hold.  I took it easy all weekend, well as easy as one can with a 3 year old bouncing off of walls can.

Today after a call to my doctor she suggested that I should come in to get my BP checked because the headache worried her much more than the contractions which she thinks are probably round ligament paint.  Personally I’m thinking more Braxton Hicks.   Not that this at all matters.

I go to her office and a nurse takes me to a room and takes my BP, she goes to show it to the doctor who then wants a urine sample.  You know that can’t really be a good thing right?  After a cup of water and a few moments of waiting the nurse has what she needs and comes back to see me after Doc has gone over that with the BP.
The verdict?  Go home, bed rest until Wednesday when I have another appointment.  She’s pretty sure this is only a precaution and that after a few days off my feet my BP will go down.  I really hope so because, let me tell you, the idea of a doctor telling you that you can’t cook or clean is really awesome.  The reality is that I don’t have a maid or a live in nanny.

And you know, you really don’t realize how much you do during the average day at home until you can’t.  Do you know how long it actually takes to cook a box of mac n cheese?  Or how long it really takes to shower?  Luckily I’m not on total bed rest so I can get up, go to the bathroom, shower and chill on the couch.  I cannot imagine how bad it would be if I couldn’t even get up to get a glass of water on my own.  Kudos for you mom’s who have.

In the mean time,  Jelly Bean is gonna stick tight and has been having a fantastic day rolling around in her mommy’s tummy.  And I’m making the mistake of watching the food network.

I’ll never be able to work at GD.

Well, another show I really enjoy was canceled this week.  One day after the SyFy network said it would be picked up for another season.  Now that Eureka is going to go off the air I’ll never be able to work at GD.  I’ve even got Bug saying “oh great” just like Carter.

I’ve always wanted to eat at Vincent’s place too.  How cool would it have been to walk in and order what ever it was I wanted.  That’s, like, the best thing ever for a pregnant women.   Not that I’ve had specific cravings all that much this time around.  It’s  been more like food, gimmie food and gimmie food now!

Of course now that I’m going to be a mom to two I might now want to work with Fargo and the gang.  Far too many problems there that cause lock downs.