No blood is always better than some blood.

...My doctor says sagely when I call to report what I'm seeing in my underware.

Yeah, you think? 

It started yesterday, and I have to say, although I've had some of this before, I was pretty alarmed at the amount of spotting I was greeted with.  Since I was at work, there wasn't much I could do about it.  I drank a ton of water, and I sat down.  It seemed to stop, and I didn't worry too much about it for the rest of the day.

But it started again when I got home, and by then I was pretty freaked out.

"We'd like you to come in for an ultrasound as soon as possible, given your history with loss."

So I scheduled an appointment for today.  And even though I could tell there was nowhere near enough blood to signify a miscarriage, it totally freaked me out.  Enough that I stayed home from work today.  The doctor says there's really nothing you can do; bedrest isn't actually a miscarriage preventer.  But it still made me feel better.

I waited all darn day for that ultrasound.  And I prayed.  I know there's nothing else to do.

When the image finally came on the screen, the first thing I saw was our wiggly little 9 week old fetus, which has now grown hands (and might have been sucking a thumb... or the arms just aren't long enough for it to look any different!).  Yes, that blob on an ultrasound has certainly changed amazingly in the last two weeks.

Heartbeat?  Strong and healthy 167 bpm.  Thank you, God. 

And so we're fine after our little scare.  I can't begin to express my relief and gratitude. 

As an added bonus, we saw Leah's birth announcement, which, almost two years later, is still posted at the patient check-in window for OB at Boulder Community.  I thought that was pretty stinkin' cool!  Though to be fair, everything looks sunnier after seeing that little healthy heartbeat... :)

On contentment amidst anxiety.

1/10/12

Tomorrow is the day.  I said it almost two years ago: "It's baby day!" 

Back then, it was Leah's birthday.  Tomorrow, it's our first ultrasound.  Our first glimpse literally into the future.

I can't even begin to describe my anticipation.  To hear those first little beats and see that tiny figure that looks nothing like the miracle it will ultimately become.  My own level of absolute awe that, after 8 months of struggle and heartache, this day is about to be here. 

The beginning of this incredible journey.  My heart is bursting with joy.  Leah's baby brother or sister is in there, and I get to see him or her.

Yes, there is still that gnawing sensation that this could all be for nothing.  But it is outshined by my own faith and contentment.  It's not even a question; somehow, God and I are on the same page on this one.  I can feel it.  He has promised this baby to me, of this I am sure. 

At a time when my anxiety should be raging, it has faded to a whisper. 

We are delivering this baby.  And I'm even going one step further to predict that we're delivering it in September.  :)  In the mean time, I can't wait to enjoy the ride.

Today is an anxious day.

I am learning so much about faith.  And darnit, I'm not good at it.  That's probably why God keeps giving me so many opportunities to practice.

Why is it that so many awful stories come out of the woodwork when you're pregnant?  How can so many terrible things happen on this road to baby?

Even though I'm totally sick today (which tells me that we're still cookin', this little one and me), I'm also nervous.  Anxious.  I can feel that threat of whatif breathing down my neck.

I have the faith.  Truly, I do.  This tiny one growing in me is our baby.  I can just feel it deep down in the depths of my being.  I will be seeing his or her little face in August (if I'm really being honest, I'm convinced this is a September baby.  Leah was going nowhere and hadn't even dropped at week 39; she only got out by way of being breech.  I suspect I'm not an early deliver-er). 

The unknown.  It's out there, and it is so hard to keep my focus off of the dark shadow of could and might. 

The journey into motherhood is the scariest one I've ever taken. 

Don't get me wrong, it's also the best journey I've ever taken.  So, so beyond worth it.  But there is nothing comparable to this experience that so powerfully requires me to willingly bare my soul and open myself up to the possibility of pain and sorrow.   To invite the coulds and mights and whatifs in, in exchange for the chance to have the greatest miracle of all. 

It's a steep price.  It's one I know I'll pay again, God willing. 

Today is an anxious day.  Tomorrow will be better.

Faith.  

It always turns out just like God planned.

This is why I'm easily distractable.

It sure feels like it was a long time coming to get that pretty little bump into my shadow.  I don't think I could be happier to cast this reflection, even if it does distract me from vacuming. 

Made it to 8. Weeks, that is.

Somewhere, there is a very pregnant woman who is missing her belly.  I know this because I seem to have stolen it. 

Baby size: Raspberry. (AWESOME!)

I am amazed by how similar this pregnancy has been so far to my first, even in its early days.  I've lost the rolling nausea I had right away.  Although it's been replaced by that gagging sensation I remember so well, it hasn't resulted in barfing.  That's a very good thing in my world.

There are the moments I am teaching - always, always in my 5th period class - and I know I have to stop talking and not open my mouth for a few minutes.  If I don't, I'll throw up.  I didn't remember that this happened to me before until it happened this time, and now I remember that I used to keep saltines in my desk drawer.  It still works.

To my knowledge, no or very minimal weight gain as a result of pregnancy; although it's hard to separate what I gained as a result of Thanksgiving and Christmas. 

The only significant craving I have to report is an odd one: Cinnamon Toast Cruch cereal, which I haven't had since I was a kid (and even then we very rarely got that special treat!). 

I'm also surprised by how much more distractable I seem to be by food.  I don't know if it's cravings exactly, but if someone suggests something that sounds good to me, I cannot get it out of my head.  I don't actually know that I want it until someone else brings it up, but once it's there... you can bet I'll be getting some by the end of the day.  That is different this time around. 

Other than that, pregnancy feels pretty much the way I remember it!  My biggest symptom is exhaustion, and unfortunately it hits me right at a time that is least convenient: between about 3-7:30.  After 7:30, I get a second wind.  The severe tired hits right when I'm home with Leah.  Let's suffice it to say, we've watched a lot of Caillou around our house in the last two weeks. 

It's usually when I'm in the car on my way to work that the waterworks hit me.  When it's just me and my tiny one, and I can fully appreciate the miracle that is happening.  I haven't started talking to the baby - yet - but it's hard to hold back the tears when I get a chance to remember just how special each one of these all-too-few pregnant days are.  And how lucky we'll be at the end of it all, to be adding this beautiful little life to our family.

Yes, these are very happy and treasured times.  :)

Because pregnancy is too funny not to talk about

1/8/12

It's not exactly a milestone.  In fact, I'm not really sure where it has come from at all.  I certainly don't remember this happening with Leah.

I do love the constant little reminders that I'm pregnant.  It's another little indication that everybody in there is safe and sound, which means a lot to me - even if the reminders aren't exactly glamorous.

My right boob is bigger than my left boob.  Yep.  Like, noticeably bigger.

If this keeps up, I'm honestly going to have to take a page from my middle schoolers and start padding my bra.  Just the one side, though.  I've forgotten the technique; do you use a sock if you're a girl or a boy???

I once saw an app for people who are trying to get pregnant that involved a baby bottle when you were supposed to be ovulating, and flaming boobies for the first day of your menstrual cycle.

I keep thinking about those flaming boobies, because that's what I've got: disproportionately-sized boobs of fire that ache pretty much all day.  Running is out of the question, because, let's face it, I'd probably be off balance anyway what with one side of my chest weighing double the other side.  Besides that, a person just can't run with sore ta-tas.  Too much bouncing.  It's a rare form of torture seldom used in industrialized countries.   

In other, less invasive news, I'm getting really excited to go to the doctor next week.  Even though it's still early, I'm pretty sure I can't keep it under wraps much longer.  Just about the whole staff knows I'm pregnant, and the kids have already started to ask questions.  I'll feel so much better once we get the all clear from the doctor, early or not.  Besides, I only have 4 shirts that effectively hide my belly, and cycling through those over and over for the next month isn't exactly an attractive option. 

The best news, though, is that I'm past week 6.  Both times I've miscarried, I've never gotten that far.  In fact, the first time I saw Leah on an ultrasound, she was 6 weeks and 6 days, and we're darn close to that now.  My confidence grows every day that early doesn't have to be a bad thing, just a place to start. 

Plus, when I start to get worried, the flaming, uneven boobies are a pretty good reminder.

Baby, talk is cheap.

"Nana, stay here.  Couple weeks." 

This is what Leah announced over dinner a few days ago as Nana was getting ready to go home.  I'd say her request is pretty clear, no? 

I also heard: "Know what?  I love you" in the car on the way home on Friday.  She's been experimenting with everything from "YUCK!  No like it" to "Bless you, Daddy!" after a sneeze.  And, of course, the girl knows how to ask for food.  "More oranges, please" she says. 

At dinner tonight, this pearl was overheard:

Poopy comes sometimes.

(then there was a little song that goes like this...)

Poopy tiiiiime, la la la.

Fa la la la poooopy tiiiime.



My mom always told me that we'd never laugh so hard as we do when we have kids.  So, so true.
My favorite might be, "Hi baby.  What'cha doin'?"  (Obviously this is something a certain someone in our house says to her.  The phrase is now repeated to everyone and everything.)

I'll admit it.  I totally love the vocab on this girl.  It's awesome, sweet, and more often than not, hillarious.  She keeps us in stitches with the random things she says and the amazing things she knows.