Even if I had ever had the time to update (which I haven't) I have definitely not had the motivation. So much has happened since I was last here that the task of writing it all down was way too daunting and it got the best of me. I've gotta do it sometime though or just let this fall by the wayside and forget things, which really isn't something I want to do despite what my actions may lead one to believe.
So we left off with a new bundle of boy. He's great. I mean, what can I say? Levi is almost 11 months old and the silliest, slobberiest, most kissable little man. All the reservations I had about having a boy were so totally unfounded. He dug himself a little hole in my heart, squeezed in there, and set up camp. He's not perfect, but he is so easy compared to Gemma at his age. He's very much like his sister in his napping (Gemma has never needed to nap, as much as I've tried) but he will go down for a good one maybe once or twice a week and I am always appreciative of the break. Bedtime is so amazing, though! I used to have to nurse Gem and rock her in a perfectly quiet room for sometimes an hour and then we'd have to watch every little thing we'd do or noise we'd make or she'd wake right back up, screaming. Levi starts to rub his eyes and yawn right at bedtime, lets me put him in his pjs, nurse him, and lay him down, and I'm DONE. I walk out, close the door, and he will wake me up in the morning with sweet babble coming over the monitor. (In Gemma's defense, she has done a complete 180 since she's been in a big girl bed. She often tells me that she's tired and says she needs to go to bed, follows her bedtime routine without complaint, and, after a story or two, kisses me, says goodnight and lets me turn off the light and leave, and we don't hear from her again until morning either.) Watching the two of them together is the most amazing part of my day. She loves him so much--she has since he was a little pokey person in my belly--and can't ever keep her hands off of him or stop trying to make him laugh. And the older that he gets, he loves her more and more too. He gets so excited around her. I can't wait until he's talking and running around with her.
We live in our house now! I can't believe I can say that, but it's true. We moved in (do not ask me why) Christmas Eve night (late) after the traditional dinner at the farm. [Christmas Tangent: It was actually a great Christmas. The weeks leading up to Christmas were extra fun. Shari did her yearly Christmas Eve fish feast and Matt and Geri came to be with us again. Jeremy, Teta, and Sassy dropped by to say hi a little before dinner and ended up staying for the meal. It was crazy and fun and perfect. John and Jeremy packed up the Trooper, Geri's car, our car, and Shari's with as much junk as we could take late that night and we made the trek out here. I had the task of unloading, putting away, AND playing Santa that night. I got Gemma settled in her room, rolled up my sleeves, and worked until 5am. John promptly passed out on the couch as soon as the last thing was brought in from the cars but Geri and Shari both stayed up to keep me company. It was actually one of my favorite parts. We had Christmas morning here, our first morning ever in our very own house, with the same exact crowd as last year--plus one!--and it was great. Billy and Sigrid came for dinner and then everyone left but the four of us.]
Back on track... There's still so much to do. We moved in simply because we couldn't not anymore, not because the house was ready. We made a promise to ourselves that we'd dedicate every weekend to getting things done so we weren't living in shambles for long and we kept up the pace long and hard (so much so that pretty much everyone around us was telling us to cool down and enjoy life just a little) but now that Gemma's birthday party has come and gone--it was our first time really showing the place off to anyone, our first event here ever--we're dialing it back a little. We'll jump right back at it soon, I'm sure, it's just our nature, but we're taking a small break until after our trip. Really though, it's strange how easily we settled into life here. We lived in such a screwed up situation for so long and we were starting to believe we'd never get here but once we were it just felt natural. I was kind of hoping it would be surreal and exciting and unbelievable but it just felt like life.
So the other stuff. I last updated in September, so I have to cover all of it. Oh, joy. The first two months after Levi was born were relatively normal. Lots of the usual. At the end of October, everything started changing. October 24th was a Monday. I was having a regular morning with the kids when John called me from work. He never, ever called from work. He told me pretty calmly--still in shock, I suppose--that the Denton police had just called to inform him that someone had found his dad's body in his apartment that morning, that he had somehow died the night before. I ran downstairs and told Shari, feeling kind of unsure of how to handle John in the situation. He and Joey came home from work and we went out to his dad's apartment to get anything we didn't want possibly getting rifled through and stolen. We spent the week making arrangments and I did my best to support John. He was pretty torn up because he'd never really dealt with anything like that before. The timing worked out amazingly though (John says his dad did it) because John took off work that week and was able to immediately follow up on a job in the paper and got a new day job that gives him much better hours, better work to do, and better personal treatment. It's still temporary but it's a much better temporary. The circumstances also put John back in contact with his dad's family. They'd essentially been estranged for years, but John suddenly had these amazing, welcoming, generous people pop into his life. They're so nice and so genuine. I really love them.
The next week Shari started chemo. The hormone treatments they'd put her on weren't working as fast as they had wanted them to so they scheduled her for six weeks (three on, one off, repeat) of a low dose round of chemo. She was home even more so because of it, although she felt fine. Never even lost her hair. She and I and the kids would go out and do stuff. She was supposed to have her last treatment the Monday before Christmas but her counts were off and they had already decided to start a more aggressive round after the new year, so they just sent her home and told her to wait until after the holidays. We moved on Christmas. John would stop by between jobs a few times during the week but Gemma, Levi, and I didn't get back to the farm again until New Year's Eve. She played with the kids and was her normal, boisterous self. She said she had been sick with some stomach issues the week between the holidays but was feeling better.
The next Thursday, she went into the hospital not feeling well and needed another transfusion. (They were happening more frequently, it seemed.) She left the same day in good spirits and seemed fine. Sunday night, she landed herself back in AAMC, just not feeling well. John hated himself but he couldn't take off work at the drop of a hat. She said she was fine, Joey said she was fine. Monday, everything was cool. Tuesday morning, John asked his boss if he could have a half day Wednesday because he really needed to go see his mother. Immediately after sorting that out, Joey called to say that the doctors called him and said she was getting worse and was being moved to ICU. He told John that he was going back to the hospital (he'd stayed till 4am and only left to meet some workers that were going to their dad's property that morning), for John to sit tight (John was already on his way to Frederick in the work truck) and not to make any decisions about work until he got there and could assess the sitation. No sooner did John relay this message to me, Joey called to say that the doctors were now just going to keep her alive until John could get there to say goodbye. I almost couldn't believe what he was telling me, it was so surreal and unexpected. John turned around and, faster that I can really fathom, got to the hospital, literally ran the halls to find her, and was there just in time to send her off with Joey. He called me and held the phone up to her ear for me to say goodbye and for Gemma to talk to her a final time. I was in such shock that I didn't say anything real. I regret that now. Gemma talked about her princess lipstick and how she found the Ariel one. I don't know how much she could comprehend at that point, but John said that Gemma's voice was the last thing she heard, that she died seconds after he took the phone away. I think that was probably exactly how she would have wanted to go, honestly... with her boys holding her hands and Gemma's voice still in her ears.
Then I met my husband at the farm and tried my best to comfort him on the loss of a parent for the second time in less than 3 months. How do you do that? I definitely think I failed. Everything for Shari was a lot more complicated. We had to factor in a lot of out-of-towners, we had to deal with Navy a lot, we had to take care of all her personal business, and we had to plan and pay for a big funeral. John's dad's family already had a plan in place, pre-paid, so his had been relatively easy. Shari's wasn't. John's dad's family actually stepped in and were a HUGE help... they offered up one of their family plots for Shari to be buried in, they helped with food, funeral arrangements. Geri helped with the kids a lot and lent us a LOT of money while we were waiting for the life insurance to be disbursed.
It was just so crazy. There are still times I can't wrap my head around everything. Life has changed so drastically in the past few months that even now, after things are settling back down to "normal", we still don't feel at peace. We still feel on edge like something else must be waiting. And it's so hard because some of the stuff has been so bad, but some of it has been so good (Levi, the house). Sometimes we feel guilty for being happy about things, others we feel like wallowing in the sadness is wasteful and we're missing out on these big moments we won't get again. We're finally able to have this life we always wanted and now don't have the people to share it with.
There was some quiet resentment at Shari for a little bit, because we found out later that despite what she told us--that the doctors were optimistic and all was well--the cancer had spread pretty much everywhere but her brain and lungs. There was no chance and, looking back, it explains a lot. There are so many moments that we pulled up but the biggest for me was Christmas night. After we'd had a whirlwind two days (I'm surprised she had the stamina for all the festivities, honestly) and Billy and Sigrid had left and she and Joey were about to go and leave us here to be our own family in our own place for the first time, she told me what a good job I'd done and that this would be our new tradition: Christmas Eve at the farm and Christmas dinner at our house. (For her to pass that torch is not a small accomplishment! That woman lived to entertain and I don't mean that superficially. Nothing made her happier than putting on a good meal or party for the friends and family she loved and to think she trusted me with Christmas... that's a feat.) Then she took my face in her hands and said, "I love you" and hugged me. That might not seem that strange but she and I were never touchy feely. Earlier that week, she sat right next to me on the couch and shared a blanket with me while we watched Ellen after the kids and I helped her decorate the tree and I remember telling John how bizarre it was.
There was one other thing that killed me. It still really bothers me now. Shari was... She was drama. She was little, she was loud, she was italian. Maybe it's because I lived with her, maybe it's because she never had a daughter and suddenly there I was all the time, maybe it's just because I was always willing to listen to whatever the drama was at the moment, I don't know... but she liked to talk some serious shit on people. There's no other way to put that. Sorry. She had best friends who were honestly like sisters to her, she had her brothers, her mother, Misty, Lois, John and Joey, and she loved them all hard but no one was safe. There was always something to say and she'd say it to me. So naturally knowing this--that there wasn't one single person who she didn't have something to snark about--and having heard all the things in her head and having spent four and a half years with all of us living in such close quarters with constant tension and fighting and issues, I could only imagine the things she'd said about me to her closest confidants. I used to worry about it all the time actually, whenever we were in the throes of some sort of stand-off. Then at the viewing, Ms. Peggy (and if she was going to say anything, she'd definitely say it to Peggy) and I ended up in some lighthearted conversation about just this attribute of Shari's and Peggy said She never said one bad thing about you, Megs. Not one. I was floored. Sharlea, Shari's very best friend since childhood, told me the same thing. As did Misty. I think I was the only person ever that applied to.
As I think back on all this now, and on all our time together, I think I may have been her best friend. It makes me so angry now because there was always stupid crap in the way... us living here, all of us interacting the way adults are supposed to, this was supposed to be when it got really fun. She was supposed to be over all the time, just hanging out with me and the kids. We have an extra room on the addition side of the house (current storage room, future craft/guest room) that she used to call "her room" long before we ever even lived here. She said that she was going to retire and move in with us and live in that room. At the time, John and I would talk about how that could never happen, that we'd already lived together and knew that it did not work at all and we would never try it again... now all I want is that. I want her to drive me crazy.
Gemma still remembers her well, though. John's dad, too. We made sure we talked about them constantly in the beginning and would remind her of things they did. Now she understands that they're in Heaven with Jesus but she will tell you the stories of things they did together and often tells us that she misses them and loves them. We want to make sure it's always like that.
Perhaps I'll use that to segue into happier things. And what's happier than babies? First, my own. They are both growing and changing every second. It's crazy how fast things are happening around here. Miss Gemma Rae just celebrated her THIRD birthday a couple weeks ago. Her actual birthday was on a Tuesday, so we just kinda hung out and had a normal day and then when John got off work, we met him and Geri and went bowling. Duckpins and bumpers... it was her first REAL time, John just threw a random idea out there and we rolled with it, but she loooooved it. She asks to go all the time now and I think (hope) we'll starting doing stuff like that a lot more. The following Saturday was her birthday party. Once again, so many people we hoped would come didn't but, again, it turned out to be perfect. Now she's a big three year old girl and acts like a little grown up. With the exception of a crying fit she'll throw when she's really exhausted, I see no baby in her at all anymore. And I really could not tell you when that happened. We signed her up for preschool for the fall and the place we chose (a little church school which is exactly what I wanted for her) does a summer camp 6 weeks in the summer that is on the same schedule she'll be on during the school year (T/W/Th, 9-12) with most of the same teachers, so it will kind of help ease her into the routine. She loves it so far. Levi and I have been enjoying our one-on-one time, although the drive is a bit much there and back twice in a day. (Easton's about 30 minutes from us, not counting hitting all the lights downtown.) Her day is just long enough that it's hard to find somewhere to kill 3 hours 3 days in a row, but not long enough to really do much other than drive home, kill an hour, and drive back. But she likes it and that's all that matters right now. We'll see how I feel six months in.
Levi. My little buddy. He is becoming so funny. I wasn't sure who he was going to be for the longest time. He's really growing into his little personality right now. He's very much a little brother... he loves his sister hard, has learned to both share and stick up for himself already, and plays the baby-of-the-family part perfectly. It doesn't matter what's going on, how ugly a day may be, he'll tuck his head down and peek at you and smile big with his four teeth and you can't stay in a bad mood. It's impossible. He zooms around on all fours and has just recently--within the past week--really wrapped his head around the idea that he can cruise around on two feet. Geri got him a push toy (the only one we had was pink, so no go) and he figured out how to walk behind it and will go from one side of the family room and back, over and over, just grinning and laughing. A few words pop out from time to time, but nothing consitent yet. We know he can say dada and mama. I've heard him say bye-bye, baby, big boy, and I have video (I do!) of him playing and saying "Peek-a-boo!" Cutest thing ever. We'll be celebrating his big number ONE next month. Blows me away. It went by so fast. I don't know what happened to having a baby and a toddler. All of a sudden, I just have two kids. I feel like life is going by so quickly now, that before I know it, it will all be over. John says I fixate on death and the end of life way too much but I can't help it. It scares me so bad.
Happy things, happy things... Babies! Speaking of babies, it seems like everyone decided to have on this year. Not even mentioning more distant friends and aquaintances that are pregnant or have given birth already this year, right now Angie, Jenn, and Juli are ALL pregnant! It's so nuts. It sucks though... it made me realize that when we're ready to get pregnant again either this fall or next fall (don't even get me started talking about that decision), there really won't be anyone to be pregnant with me. I always hoped I'd get to do it with someone, that seems like so much more fun. Oh well.
Vacation! Yes, vacation. I can't even believe I'm saying that. The only vacation John and I have ever taken alone together was our honeymoon. We've NEVER taken one with the kids. Suffice it to say, we're long overdue. Well over a year ago, Marianna got it in her head that she wanted to take all of us, plus Kris and Kelvin and the boys on a Disney cruise. Well, damned if she didn't book us on one. And not just any, she waited to make reservations on the newest ship. We've been planning this for what feels like forever and now, in ten days, we will be spending a week in the Caribbean. Nope, still can't believe it.
Well, now that this post is impossibly long and it's really, really, really late, I'm going to cut it off. I hope to be back soon, but I don't want to make any promises to myself that I may not be able to keep. Whenever, I suppose.
7.04.2012
8.25.2011
Before it starts to blur in my memory...
I have a lot to catch up on, but I want to get my birth story out and down before all the details start to get fuzzy.
35 week appt... Nothing happening. Closed up tight, Levi snuggled in and growing strong. There was an issue, however, with one of the midwives, Susannah, thinking he might be breech. She sent me for an ultrasound, where I was informed (thank GOD) that wasn't the case. He was definitely head down and looking great. An afternoon of really high mental stress, but it all ended well and I got a wonderful free 3D/4D glimpse of him so it wasn't all bad.
8/4: 36 week appt... 80% effaced and 3cm dilated. THREE. Yes, I knew some women could walk around like that for weeks sometimes, but Gemma's eventful delivery had me scared. I was 1cm dilated with her on a Tuesday afternoon and she came hard and fast on Friday. I went home and cleaned like crazy, did our laundry, got a shower and did my hair, packed my bag. And sat. And waited. Nothing.
8/11: 37 week appt... Now 3-4cm. Lost my plug. Had contractions off and on all week, sometimes 5 minutes apart for 3 or 4 hours but they were never painful and always tapered off eventually. It was so frustrating. We thought every night was the night and it never was.
8/18: 38 week appt... Went from 3-4cm to "a good 4." I was beginning to think he was never going to come. Granted, I still had two weeks to go until I was even due, but I was having contractions constantly, had lost my plug a week prior, and had been almost halfway dilated for over a week. My body was ready, I think Levi was just holding on for dear life in there. Susannah recommended some homeopathic remedies to give labor a nudge if my body was so inclined. I went directly to Whole Foods to get them and started them immediately.
8/19: I woke up around 4:30am to pee. Everything was normal, went back to sleep. John's alarm went off at 6 (he miraculously happened to have off that day and was planning to go work on the house) and he got up and went into the bathroom. I was laying in bed, still half asleep, when I realized something felt off. It hit me that my pants were wet. Not insanely wet but I knew I hadn't peed myself and it had to be something. I ran in and told him to get out of the bathroom and let me in. Eerily familiar, except this time no contractions hit, no more leaking. I called the birth center and told them I felt stupid but I wanted to talk to a midwife because I wasn't sure if my water had broken or not. This was around 8:30. (I got a shower and ready before I called, just in case I had to go.) The receptionist said they were busy with four women delivering but someone would call me back when they could. John decided to stick around, obviously, and we just ran errands and hung out with Gemma, waiting for something to start. I finally heard back from David around 1:30. He said that normally they'd just tell me to wait and let nature take its course but because of my positive Group B Strep test and my previous fast labor, he wanted me to come in and get checked out. If it had broken, he'd want to get my antibiotics in me and get things moving because there was only a certain window of time that it was safe.
We zipped home, threw all our stuff in the car, just in case, and got over there as fast as we could. David did an exam and said that the tests didn't seem to indicate a break, however there could have been a small leak (which seemed to match up with the amount I'd noticed earlier) that could have sealed itself back over. He surprised me though by also informing me that I was now, 24 hours later, 6cm dilated. I was still having contractions... stronger than before but still not painful at all. He said it was up to me, but if I wanted, he could send me over to AAMC and, once we got the antibiotics in for the appropriate amount of time, break my water and see if that got things rolling. Looked like we were having a baby tonight!
We drove to the hospital and waited for a room. (It was a madhouse that day; a million people seemed to have delivered at the same time.) Geri came and picked up Gem and took her home. They settled us into a L&D room and started the first course of antibiotics. That was at 5. David said he was going to come back at 7:30 to break my water. I called Mollie and she came to wait with us. David finally came in around 8:15 and broke my water. (And, yep. It's just as fun as everyone says it is. Yuck.) Before he did that, I was at 7cm. I was on intermittent monitoring and had been having steady contractions. They had been of decent strength but I had yet to feel anything other than the tightening, really. Well, within a minute or two (literally) of David breaking my water, a hard, painful contraction hit. I immediately felt doubtful of everything I had been so sure of up until that point. All of a sudden, I didn't think I could do it. I imagined hours of that pain and thought there was no way. I got up to go to the bathroom one last time and three more contractions happened within the window of a couple minutes while I was in there.
I asked Mollie to find the nurse (Holly, she was so great) and tell her that I was already starting to feel the pressure to push. I laid down on the bed and closed my eyes and tried to relax. We studied and I practiced in the weeks leading up to the big event and the Bradley book was honest that it wouldn't be easy, but trying to just be quiet and still and actually relax through contractions seemed like the most insane, impossible idea in the moment. But then Mollie and John turned down the lights and both quietly encouraged me and instructed me and reminded me why I was doing what I was doing and were right on top of whatever I needed. It started to work, it started to get easier. The contractions that I tensed up during and yelled and freaked out hurt so much worse than the ones that I breathed and went limp through. It actually made them surprisingly bearable.
The only thing I had a bit of a problem with was that everything happened so fast that I ended up in a position that I didn't want or like at all. I was extremely uncomfortable when I was pushing, but all I could think about was keeping my focus and I felt paralyzed. There was no way I could've moved or changed positions, despite the fact that I told them several times I needed to.
Anyway, David returned and quickly checked me. I was at 9cm. He said I could try pushing whenever I was ready and see if that would open things up the rest of the way. Everyone was in position and ready and a contraction came and I just didn't feel like it was time, which I told him and he was fine with. I didn't even think about it with the next one though, my body just pushed all on its own. David and Holly had actually turned away for a moment for some reason and I was kind of pushing on my own. I think I pushed two or three more times and his head was out, followed quickly by his little body.
Levi Rowan Adams was born at 9:31pm, weighing 7lbs even and measuring 19.5" long. He was pink and perfect. He cried immediately, but quieted right down as soon as they put him on me. I held onto him for a while, he wasn't immediately whisked away like Gemma was. They eventually took him over to weigh him and check him out while David examimed me (not a single, tiny tear, thank you very much) and I don't think John broke physical contact with him the entire time. He was nursing before 10 and didn't stop for hours.
After things settled down, John and I made the obligatory calls and texts to all the important people. Loy came and picked Mollie up a little after midnight. I think John and I finally got to sit and chill and eat some dinner around 3 or 4am. (I seriously think it doesn't matter what time you have your baby, they will always seem to have you awake and going until 3 or 4 in the morning that first night.) I would have loved to be able to deliver at the birthing center where they'll discharge you after 6 hours, but my miserable insurance company would allow me to use a midwife but only deliver in a hospital and required me to stay 2 days. So we stayed, whatever. It was fine. I really just missed and worried about Gemma, though she was in good hands here with Geri. People came to see us, it was nice. Gemma was so excited when we told her the night before that she'd finally get to meet her brother the next day and her reaction to seeing him did not disappoint. We had Geri drop her off before anyone else came, so she could have some time alone to adjust to him and we could spend a few moments as a little family.
All in all, I could not be more pleased about this birth experience. I got to go to the hospital totally calmly, not really even in active labor yet, completely prepared. Everyone was where they needed to be... John was with me from start to finish (and had the next several days off, which never happens), Gemma was covered and we were able to say goodbye and explain to her what was happening, Mollie was able to get there easily. And yet, it was a super fast, easy, enjoyable labor and delivery. (Do not mistake that to mean that it wasn't extremely painful and taxing and very hard work. That said, it is still the most amazing thing that you can ever experience and is always, always worth it.)
The first week was a bit tough, what with an earthquake and a hurricane--complete with a three day, out-of-state, short notice evacuation--but that's all life. Levi, for the most part, has been insanely (almost unbelievably) easy to handle. He has meshed right into our life. We haven't really had to adjust too much, schedule-wise, because of him, he's just taken to the way we do things. Honestly, Gemma has been the one who's been the handful. She's been really sweet with her brother--she loves him sooo much and takes every chance to kiss him and hug him and tickle him--but she's still acting out. She's not listening to a word we say, she's getting extremely defiant (and occasionally violent), she's being very selfish and demanding. Granted, these things may all come along with being two, but I'm sure adding another kid into the mix isn't helping matters. We'll survive.
So here I sit, two weeks later, though it feels like a lifetime. Kid asleep on my lap, all cozy and warm and soft. Now that he's here and we're not anxiously waiting for that possibly scary moment when we have to drop and run, we're ready to focus on getting everything else in life settled, finally. Starting tomorrow. And now that's it's 1am, tomorrow is coming up fast, so I'm going to go. Hopefully there will be much more to cover in the future and actually time to do so!
35 week appt... Nothing happening. Closed up tight, Levi snuggled in and growing strong. There was an issue, however, with one of the midwives, Susannah, thinking he might be breech. She sent me for an ultrasound, where I was informed (thank GOD) that wasn't the case. He was definitely head down and looking great. An afternoon of really high mental stress, but it all ended well and I got a wonderful free 3D/4D glimpse of him so it wasn't all bad.
8/4: 36 week appt... 80% effaced and 3cm dilated. THREE. Yes, I knew some women could walk around like that for weeks sometimes, but Gemma's eventful delivery had me scared. I was 1cm dilated with her on a Tuesday afternoon and she came hard and fast on Friday. I went home and cleaned like crazy, did our laundry, got a shower and did my hair, packed my bag. And sat. And waited. Nothing.
8/11: 37 week appt... Now 3-4cm. Lost my plug. Had contractions off and on all week, sometimes 5 minutes apart for 3 or 4 hours but they were never painful and always tapered off eventually. It was so frustrating. We thought every night was the night and it never was.
8/18: 38 week appt... Went from 3-4cm to "a good 4." I was beginning to think he was never going to come. Granted, I still had two weeks to go until I was even due, but I was having contractions constantly, had lost my plug a week prior, and had been almost halfway dilated for over a week. My body was ready, I think Levi was just holding on for dear life in there. Susannah recommended some homeopathic remedies to give labor a nudge if my body was so inclined. I went directly to Whole Foods to get them and started them immediately.
8/19: I woke up around 4:30am to pee. Everything was normal, went back to sleep. John's alarm went off at 6 (he miraculously happened to have off that day and was planning to go work on the house) and he got up and went into the bathroom. I was laying in bed, still half asleep, when I realized something felt off. It hit me that my pants were wet. Not insanely wet but I knew I hadn't peed myself and it had to be something. I ran in and told him to get out of the bathroom and let me in. Eerily familiar, except this time no contractions hit, no more leaking. I called the birth center and told them I felt stupid but I wanted to talk to a midwife because I wasn't sure if my water had broken or not. This was around 8:30. (I got a shower and ready before I called, just in case I had to go.) The receptionist said they were busy with four women delivering but someone would call me back when they could. John decided to stick around, obviously, and we just ran errands and hung out with Gemma, waiting for something to start. I finally heard back from David around 1:30. He said that normally they'd just tell me to wait and let nature take its course but because of my positive Group B Strep test and my previous fast labor, he wanted me to come in and get checked out. If it had broken, he'd want to get my antibiotics in me and get things moving because there was only a certain window of time that it was safe.
We zipped home, threw all our stuff in the car, just in case, and got over there as fast as we could. David did an exam and said that the tests didn't seem to indicate a break, however there could have been a small leak (which seemed to match up with the amount I'd noticed earlier) that could have sealed itself back over. He surprised me though by also informing me that I was now, 24 hours later, 6cm dilated. I was still having contractions... stronger than before but still not painful at all. He said it was up to me, but if I wanted, he could send me over to AAMC and, once we got the antibiotics in for the appropriate amount of time, break my water and see if that got things rolling. Looked like we were having a baby tonight!
We drove to the hospital and waited for a room. (It was a madhouse that day; a million people seemed to have delivered at the same time.) Geri came and picked up Gem and took her home. They settled us into a L&D room and started the first course of antibiotics. That was at 5. David said he was going to come back at 7:30 to break my water. I called Mollie and she came to wait with us. David finally came in around 8:15 and broke my water. (And, yep. It's just as fun as everyone says it is. Yuck.) Before he did that, I was at 7cm. I was on intermittent monitoring and had been having steady contractions. They had been of decent strength but I had yet to feel anything other than the tightening, really. Well, within a minute or two (literally) of David breaking my water, a hard, painful contraction hit. I immediately felt doubtful of everything I had been so sure of up until that point. All of a sudden, I didn't think I could do it. I imagined hours of that pain and thought there was no way. I got up to go to the bathroom one last time and three more contractions happened within the window of a couple minutes while I was in there.
I asked Mollie to find the nurse (Holly, she was so great) and tell her that I was already starting to feel the pressure to push. I laid down on the bed and closed my eyes and tried to relax. We studied and I practiced in the weeks leading up to the big event and the Bradley book was honest that it wouldn't be easy, but trying to just be quiet and still and actually relax through contractions seemed like the most insane, impossible idea in the moment. But then Mollie and John turned down the lights and both quietly encouraged me and instructed me and reminded me why I was doing what I was doing and were right on top of whatever I needed. It started to work, it started to get easier. The contractions that I tensed up during and yelled and freaked out hurt so much worse than the ones that I breathed and went limp through. It actually made them surprisingly bearable.
The only thing I had a bit of a problem with was that everything happened so fast that I ended up in a position that I didn't want or like at all. I was extremely uncomfortable when I was pushing, but all I could think about was keeping my focus and I felt paralyzed. There was no way I could've moved or changed positions, despite the fact that I told them several times I needed to.
Anyway, David returned and quickly checked me. I was at 9cm. He said I could try pushing whenever I was ready and see if that would open things up the rest of the way. Everyone was in position and ready and a contraction came and I just didn't feel like it was time, which I told him and he was fine with. I didn't even think about it with the next one though, my body just pushed all on its own. David and Holly had actually turned away for a moment for some reason and I was kind of pushing on my own. I think I pushed two or three more times and his head was out, followed quickly by his little body.
Levi Rowan Adams was born at 9:31pm, weighing 7lbs even and measuring 19.5" long. He was pink and perfect. He cried immediately, but quieted right down as soon as they put him on me. I held onto him for a while, he wasn't immediately whisked away like Gemma was. They eventually took him over to weigh him and check him out while David examimed me (not a single, tiny tear, thank you very much) and I don't think John broke physical contact with him the entire time. He was nursing before 10 and didn't stop for hours.
After things settled down, John and I made the obligatory calls and texts to all the important people. Loy came and picked Mollie up a little after midnight. I think John and I finally got to sit and chill and eat some dinner around 3 or 4am. (I seriously think it doesn't matter what time you have your baby, they will always seem to have you awake and going until 3 or 4 in the morning that first night.) I would have loved to be able to deliver at the birthing center where they'll discharge you after 6 hours, but my miserable insurance company would allow me to use a midwife but only deliver in a hospital and required me to stay 2 days. So we stayed, whatever. It was fine. I really just missed and worried about Gemma, though she was in good hands here with Geri. People came to see us, it was nice. Gemma was so excited when we told her the night before that she'd finally get to meet her brother the next day and her reaction to seeing him did not disappoint. We had Geri drop her off before anyone else came, so she could have some time alone to adjust to him and we could spend a few moments as a little family.
All in all, I could not be more pleased about this birth experience. I got to go to the hospital totally calmly, not really even in active labor yet, completely prepared. Everyone was where they needed to be... John was with me from start to finish (and had the next several days off, which never happens), Gemma was covered and we were able to say goodbye and explain to her what was happening, Mollie was able to get there easily. And yet, it was a super fast, easy, enjoyable labor and delivery. (Do not mistake that to mean that it wasn't extremely painful and taxing and very hard work. That said, it is still the most amazing thing that you can ever experience and is always, always worth it.)
The first week was a bit tough, what with an earthquake and a hurricane--complete with a three day, out-of-state, short notice evacuation--but that's all life. Levi, for the most part, has been insanely (almost unbelievably) easy to handle. He has meshed right into our life. We haven't really had to adjust too much, schedule-wise, because of him, he's just taken to the way we do things. Honestly, Gemma has been the one who's been the handful. She's been really sweet with her brother--she loves him sooo much and takes every chance to kiss him and hug him and tickle him--but she's still acting out. She's not listening to a word we say, she's getting extremely defiant (and occasionally violent), she's being very selfish and demanding. Granted, these things may all come along with being two, but I'm sure adding another kid into the mix isn't helping matters. We'll survive.
So here I sit, two weeks later, though it feels like a lifetime. Kid asleep on my lap, all cozy and warm and soft. Now that he's here and we're not anxiously waiting for that possibly scary moment when we have to drop and run, we're ready to focus on getting everything else in life settled, finally. Starting tomorrow. And now that's it's 1am, tomorrow is coming up fast, so I'm going to go. Hopefully there will be much more to cover in the future and actually time to do so!
5.28.2011
What can I say?
Hahahahaha, has it really been four MONTHS? Wow. Actually, I honestly was always aware of how long it'd been. I kept wanting to update, but there always seemed to be something else new right around the corner and I just kept waiting so that I could do it all at once. I have to just accept though that there will probably always be something else coming so that's no reason to put life on hold. (Or blogging, I suppose.)
So what's new, you ask? Well, lots. I'm actually quite overwhelmed by where to start. Let's see...
That dream house of ours? Not so much. And thank GOD. I mean, at the time we loved it and were so excited and grateful, but looking back, it would've been a disaster. How do I know this for sure? Because just as we decided we had to walk away from that one, we stumbled upon something a million times more amazing. This house is twice the size (at 2300 sq ft, it's probably much more house than we need right now), it hardly needs any work besides cosmetic (biggest issues are a new roof and boiler, which are already contracted out and rolled into the mortgage), it's totally our style (built in the 40's and feels it). I'll update with more info on it later... I don't really want this to be another crazy long post. I'll give kind of an overview of recent life and then delve into everything more later.
Anyway after a very long, drawn out, frustrating few months dealing with the FHA people and a lazy, often-hard-to-reach mortgage broker, we finally closed this past Monday. I was really starting to believe it'd never happen after all the surprise hoops that appeared at every turn, but as of 8pm Monday night, the keys were in our hand and we were officially homeowners. (That idea is going to take a while to sink in, I think.)
There's so much to do, we're not really sure how to start. It's quite daunting. I know I said it's mostly cosmetic work to be done, but it's a lot of cosmetic work. It doesn't help that John's working all the time right now (I'd said 80 hours a week recently) AND just up and decided to go back to school this summer--classes started Monday as well--and that the house is a good 45 minutes from where we live now... finding time to get there has already proved to be a challenge. Add to that the fact that it's the start of summer and the route to our house just happens to be everyone else's beach commute, sitting in traffic really cuts into the time we do have to go. But we'll figure it out, I guess. Not knowing how to work on our house beats the alternative of not having one.
On the subject of John and school... I don't remember if I talked about it before--I think the whole situation came up more recently than my last post--but it all happened in a bit of a whirlwind. I knew he was desperate for direction in life. Turned out he had pretty lofty aspirations but never mentioned them because he didn't think it'd ever be possible for us. We just decided to go for it, that we'd figure it out. I'd rather struggle for a few years (because honestly, we're pretty used to struggle and have become pretty scrappy during our time together AND people have had to deal with much harder things in life) and come out better for it in the end (not to mention have a husband who feels fulfilled and doesn't have to work himself to the bone constantly). So as of Monday, John is now an active engineering student. We know it'll always have to be part time, figure it into life however we can, but we made a plan and we're doing it. (There are even current rumblings of ME going back to school too, but more on that later.)
Kids... Gem has turned into quite a handful. Terrible Two's definitely hit early in our house. She's got such an attitude and can throw a fit like a champ. (It's funny, she says "no" very politely in normal situations, but only ever says "no, thank you" when she's angry or agitated... "No, fank you, Mommy! No, fank you!") It's hard most days, but the flip side of it is how fun it is to see how she's turned into a real little person overnight. She uses sentences, we have conversations, she's becoming very independent in a lot of daily tasks, she's so interested in discovering and learning everything she can. She blows my mind in a new way every day.
And now for the other one. It's a little BROTHER! We found out at the end of March. We were both really shocked. Everyone was so sure we were going to have another girl, but he was undoubtedly a boy. It definitely took a bit to mentally and emotionally adjust my outlook, I'm not going to lie. I really wanted a girl. I just wanted Gemma to have the experience of growing up with a sister. I loved the childhood I had with Matt, but I always felt like I missed out on a lot and I was hopeful she could have it. That said, I've now connected with this little fella currently kicking and flipping around inside of my belly and I can't imagine any different future. He's going to be Levi, although Gemma calls him "Wifi". It's pretty darned cute. Actually in just an hour's time, he'll be due in exactly three months. Coming up fast. There's so much to do.
Well, that covers all the big stuff for now. It's been a few weeks of running hard and I'm fighing to keep my eyes open so I'm gonna go. Hopefully I can start organizing my thoughts better and come back with details and pictures and all that jazz. I'd like to keep an account of the progress of the house and at least the tail end of this pregnancy.
Here's to hoping.
So what's new, you ask? Well, lots. I'm actually quite overwhelmed by where to start. Let's see...
That dream house of ours? Not so much. And thank GOD. I mean, at the time we loved it and were so excited and grateful, but looking back, it would've been a disaster. How do I know this for sure? Because just as we decided we had to walk away from that one, we stumbled upon something a million times more amazing. This house is twice the size (at 2300 sq ft, it's probably much more house than we need right now), it hardly needs any work besides cosmetic (biggest issues are a new roof and boiler, which are already contracted out and rolled into the mortgage), it's totally our style (built in the 40's and feels it). I'll update with more info on it later... I don't really want this to be another crazy long post. I'll give kind of an overview of recent life and then delve into everything more later.
Anyway after a very long, drawn out, frustrating few months dealing with the FHA people and a lazy, often-hard-to-reach mortgage broker, we finally closed this past Monday. I was really starting to believe it'd never happen after all the surprise hoops that appeared at every turn, but as of 8pm Monday night, the keys were in our hand and we were officially homeowners. (That idea is going to take a while to sink in, I think.)
There's so much to do, we're not really sure how to start. It's quite daunting. I know I said it's mostly cosmetic work to be done, but it's a lot of cosmetic work. It doesn't help that John's working all the time right now (I'd said 80 hours a week recently) AND just up and decided to go back to school this summer--classes started Monday as well--and that the house is a good 45 minutes from where we live now... finding time to get there has already proved to be a challenge. Add to that the fact that it's the start of summer and the route to our house just happens to be everyone else's beach commute, sitting in traffic really cuts into the time we do have to go. But we'll figure it out, I guess. Not knowing how to work on our house beats the alternative of not having one.
On the subject of John and school... I don't remember if I talked about it before--I think the whole situation came up more recently than my last post--but it all happened in a bit of a whirlwind. I knew he was desperate for direction in life. Turned out he had pretty lofty aspirations but never mentioned them because he didn't think it'd ever be possible for us. We just decided to go for it, that we'd figure it out. I'd rather struggle for a few years (because honestly, we're pretty used to struggle and have become pretty scrappy during our time together AND people have had to deal with much harder things in life) and come out better for it in the end (not to mention have a husband who feels fulfilled and doesn't have to work himself to the bone constantly). So as of Monday, John is now an active engineering student. We know it'll always have to be part time, figure it into life however we can, but we made a plan and we're doing it. (There are even current rumblings of ME going back to school too, but more on that later.)
Kids... Gem has turned into quite a handful. Terrible Two's definitely hit early in our house. She's got such an attitude and can throw a fit like a champ. (It's funny, she says "no" very politely in normal situations, but only ever says "no, thank you" when she's angry or agitated... "No, fank you, Mommy! No, fank you!") It's hard most days, but the flip side of it is how fun it is to see how she's turned into a real little person overnight. She uses sentences, we have conversations, she's becoming very independent in a lot of daily tasks, she's so interested in discovering and learning everything she can. She blows my mind in a new way every day.
And now for the other one. It's a little BROTHER! We found out at the end of March. We were both really shocked. Everyone was so sure we were going to have another girl, but he was undoubtedly a boy. It definitely took a bit to mentally and emotionally adjust my outlook, I'm not going to lie. I really wanted a girl. I just wanted Gemma to have the experience of growing up with a sister. I loved the childhood I had with Matt, but I always felt like I missed out on a lot and I was hopeful she could have it. That said, I've now connected with this little fella currently kicking and flipping around inside of my belly and I can't imagine any different future. He's going to be Levi, although Gemma calls him "Wifi". It's pretty darned cute. Actually in just an hour's time, he'll be due in exactly three months. Coming up fast. There's so much to do.
Well, that covers all the big stuff for now. It's been a few weeks of running hard and I'm fighing to keep my eyes open so I'm gonna go. Hopefully I can start organizing my thoughts better and come back with details and pictures and all that jazz. I'd like to keep an account of the progress of the house and at least the tail end of this pregnancy.
Here's to hoping.
1.21.2011
Not entirely sure I'm ready to do this...
...but here it goes anyway.
I've meant to update this a hundred times but have lacked the motivation necessary when I actually have the time. Not that I get the time often anymore, it seems. John's been working like crazy, late hours too, and you'd think I'd have all these leisurely nights to myself (I know he thinks that) but I honestly seem to always be ready to relax and do my own thing about 5 minutes before he walks back in the door. But, whatever. It's not important. I'm here now.
Where'd I leave off anyway? Ah, yes. The Sad Time. Those were a very hard and dark few months for our family, for many reasons. I will openly admit we struggled to make it through. John and I had several fights that involved the D-word (though in all the times we've ever said it, I don't think either one of us has ever, ever meant it). Unfortunately, this was the time that his work schedule started to pick up and we were able to attend church less and less... I believe that had a lot to do with our weakness. When we would get to go, we'd have a much better week. Suffice it to say that we made it though. We're still here and stronger than before.
Taking all that junk out of it--the miscarriage, John not getting the jobs, the financial stress, family stuff--the end of 2010 was a pretty good one. In September Gemma started at Busy Bodies, a little structured gym place for kids 1-8. She's in the 12-24mo. class and, despite a tough start, seems to really love it. After a couple of 8 week sessions, she's finally getting it... She knows the routine and follows the schedule. She listens to the teacher. She remembers how to sing the songs and do the motions, she participates in the exercises and activities, and--my favorite part--she seems like she's actually making friends. She gets excited to see the kids that have been there since the beginning with her. She's really enthusiastic at the end of the class when it's "High Five Your Friends" time. It's adorable. Unfortunately for me, it seems like most of the other moms around here work so there are a lot of grandmas and nannies that bring the kids. Not really the bounty of potential mom-friends I'd hoped for. That's okay, though. As long as Gem's enjoying herself.
Halloween was a hoot. Gem was a duck, of course, because she was obsessed with them at the time. Shari helped me make a costume and it turned out so cute. We were invited to go trick-or-treating in Pasadena with Megan and Emily and it turned out to be the best night. I was a little leery of how Gem would react to the whole thing. The first house, she was terrified. John had to carry her up. The second and third, she held his hand and he kinda dragged her up. By the fourth or fifth, she realized that all she had to do was walk up to the door and people would put things in her bucket and she was sold. She was running up to each house, usually with one of us trying to keep up.
Thanksgiving was a little hard, but we ended up making the best of things. John's Grammy was diagnosed with mouth cancer (and later all other sorts of cancer) and had to have surgery in the earlier part of Thanksgiving week. We went down Monday night and were there with her on Tuesday. John, Gemma and I came back Tuesday night because he simply couldn't miss any more work. Shari and Joey stayed. Joey eventually talked Shari into letting him take her car (and Billy subsequently bringing her home Saturday) and he rolled back into town Thursday night, but not before the three of us got to enjoy our very own Thanksgiving dinner. No one else. Just us. It was glorious. It was everything we dream about, everything a lot of people take for granted: time with your family, without unavoidable interference and buttinskis. I cannot wait until that is our every day.
Christmas started creeping up on us slowly this year. Usually it seems to smack me in the face, finding me completely unprepared, but not this time around. I had most of my shopping done--well, the big stuff at least--in November. The tree was up Thanksgiving weekend. And I was, get this, actually IN THE CHRISTMAS MOOD for all of December. I don't think that's happened since I was a kid. (Maybe because I have a kid now?) Anyway, I was excited for it to arrive at first just to see Gemma experience her first REAL Christmas. Last year she was just too little to care or grasp the even the tiniest bit of what was going on. This year, she was a big enough girl to get excited when she saw things for her under the tree. We thought it was just going to be the typical (sigh, lame) holiday. John working, rushing, fish feast Christmas Eve, a hurried, interrupted Christmas morning, Billy and Sigrid droning on here, patheticness at Geri's, a late night. It slowly transformed from that into something really great with just a week to go... I recounted to John how my grandma and Geri would always spend the night on Christmas Eve and be there to watch us open our gifts. That was just a standard part of my Christmas. So he suggested that we invite Geri to be with us to see Gemma. Shari went for it, Geri was really touched, it all seemed to fall into place nicely. Then I started to hear that Matt wouldn't have anywhere to be (our father was obviously not going to care) and we started whispers about inviting him. Everyone was really into the idea and he ended up being really excited, I think. (He doesn't give much away.) They ended up coming over in the afternoon on Christmas Eve, having the big dinner with us... We somehow all accidentally gravitated toward the big room at the end of the night and ended up watching The Town as a family of sorts. Christmas morning, John and I got Gemma up and had a nice, relaxing family morning upstairs. She opened her Santa gifts and John and I exchanged (way too many) gifts and really surprised each other this year. We went down and did the bigger Christmas. Everyone was able to surprise someone else with something they really wanted but didn't expect or would have ever asked for. (My favorite? We got Geri a REAL camera. You don't understand what a big deal that is for her.) We had a cozy breakfast and just lazed for a bit and then Geri and Matt went on their way to do their own things (Matt to his girlfriend's, Geri to Janet and Bill's) and we just. hung. out. All DAY. That never happens. We put on comfy clothes and toyed with our stuff and just enjoyed being the three of us. It was seriously one of the best Christmases I've ever had, if not the best.
Although perhaps next year will beat it...
The current happenings for the Adams family? We're getting bigger by about 1400 square feet, plus 2 teeny-tiny ones. Huh? I must be joking, right? That's what I keep telling myself every day, but so far, no. (Yes, this post just keeps getting longer and longer. Well, it's about to get worse. By a lot.)
So November rolled around. The do-or-wait month. I know I said we'd accept a baby whenever, but there were just too many stupid reasons in my own head that I wanted to either try in November or wait until sometime next year. (i.e. being able to reuse a lot of baby clothes, should the baby be a girl; going into the cold and flu season with a slightly tougher few month old than a brand new one; being able to hopefully reuse a lot of my maternity clothes; really wanting [emotionally needing] time to try to lose some of the baby weight before jeans season came back to avoid needing all new [bigger] pants.) So we gave it a shot. And we waited. And waited. And tested. And tested. Nothing. My period arrival date came and went. We tested some more. Nothing. We waited some more. Now in the world of womanly cycles, I'm very in tune with my body. I charted every single day, I always knew the days I ovulated, the day my period should start. Everything was down to a science. This month, of all months, was a flipping screwball. Completely turned upside down. Had it been a normal cycle, I should have tested positive (assuming I was actually pregnant) by the 5th of December. Oh, no. We did not get those two little lines until the NINETEENTH. (On a whim, in a Target bathroom, on our way to church, I might add.) At that point, I just thought something was wrong with me and that I'd have to make an appointment to get checked out. Just turned out that my body and baby ran on their own schedule that time and forgot to tell me.
So, yes. We are indeed pregnant! Almost 9 weeks along, we're due sometime in the end of August. So far, so good this time around. I've had sporadic spotting this time that I didn't have with Gemma that worries me all the time, but it's nothing like the last pregnancy. It only happens after I've worked out too hard and disappears once I ease up. On top of that, we've had two promising ultrasounds so far. At the most recent, we saw a perfectly normal looking 7 week old baby with a good steady heartbeat. That was a couple weeks after the spotting started, so it doesn't seem to mean anything bad. (Though I know it always could. I'm still taking it very easy and being careful.)
It's been a little rougher this time around. I remember thinking how hard it was to work all day when I was pregnant with Gemma, how tired I felt all the time. That was cake! At least I'd get off at the same time every day and if I wanted to go to sleep at 6:30 or do nothing but lay on the couch because I simply had NO energy left, I could. Not with a 19mo. old to run around after 24/7. Gemma doesn't understand, nor care, when I want to stop reading her favorite book because I need to puke. She doesn't get that sometimes Mommy is just. too. tired. to push her super fast in her car for an hour. So I can't give in. I just push through. And the immense love that having two kids will bring is already rewarding me. Though I know she doesn't really understand, Gemma has gotten into the habit of getting close to my belly and waving her little hand and saying "Hi, baby. Ove oo, baby." and placing little tiny pecks or big ole smooches on it.
Boy or girl, I still have no inklings. No little tugs at my intuition either way. A boy would be a fun change. I think Gem would do beautifully with a little brother. I know I loved having one. But if I'm being really honest? I want a girl. I'm sorry. I want a boy eventually. Next. Third. But now, I want another girl. I never had a sister. Now that I get to spend time with Angie, I see how it could have been. I would love for her to have that. Matt and I grew up incredibly close and spent so much time having fun together, but it's different, you know? At a certain age, you grow apart in ways. You don't share each other clothes and friends and secrets. I want that for her. That said, I will still LOVE a son if we have one. I mean, I wanted a boy the first time around and love the girl I got, right? We already have names picked out for both, so we're prepared in that aspect at least.
Okay, so that explains the 2 feet clue but what about the 1400?
Well, I don't want to count my bridges before they hatch (burn my chickens before I cross them? anyone?) but I think... just maybe.... ever so possibly... John and I might be BUYING A HOUSE. Crazy, I know. But very true. Things are very unsure right now because of some lazy business handling on the bank's, our realtor's, and our mortgage broker's parts but it's looking like it just may work out.
Now we never thought this was a possibility for us anytime soon. That doesn't mean we didn't look for/at houses for fun all the time. New Year's Eve, John was working and I was sitting here, bumming around the internet. I ran out of things to do so I started looking at houses. In Denton (a place we've always wanted to NOT live), there was a foreclosure listed. A 3 bedroom, 2 bath house on THREE POINT TWO THREE ACRES. For $95,000. Seriously? I thought it couldn't possibly be right. There had to be some sort of catch. No matter, we couldn't buy a house anyway. Well, that didn't stop us from loading in the car the next day and driving out to scope it out. From the outside, it was nothing I wanted in a house. Nothing I dreamed about or pictured or put on my must-have list. And yet, I wanted it. (I'm not even mentioning how amazing the property itself is. Very near to civilization but tucked away in the farmland. Clear, flat land but bordered by mature trees all the way around. Close enough to a main road that someone would call 911 if the house were ablaze but has complete privacy.)
John called the realty company that week to just get some info... you know, just for FUN. Just to kinda get our feet wet in the realty world waters, as practice for when we were actually ready to do it ourselves. The next thing we know, they set up an appointment for us to go view it. We went out that Saturday and walked through with an agent, who talked about the house with us like it was already going to be ours. He gave us some names to check out and we ended up talking to a mortgage broker that week and getting approved with no hassles at all. It all seemed incredibly too easy and fast. But not in a bad way. I wear no rose colored glasses. I am not an easily trusting person. I know when I'm being scammed and often suspect it even when I'm not. This was just like... all the doors being opened because this was our house.
I knew it because when we went inside, when we got more information, it was everything on my deal-breaker list. It has to be completely redone on the inside. It essentially has NO kitchen right now. It's teeny tiny. There's next to ZERO closet space and actually zero pantry space. There's not even a real place to put the washer and dryer. There's no basement. And, worst of all, it has NO CENTRAL AIR. Now I'm sorry, there are people out there who can live without it and that's great for them. But there are a few things about me that feed into this...
1. My allergies are horrendous. In my adult life, I've hardly ever been able to keep the windows open and enjoy the breezy days. If I do, I spend them not able to see or breathe. So once the heat goes off in the spring, there's about a two week window that the house can be open like that. Then the a/c has to go on and I seal that baby up tight. Same for summer into fall.
2. I can't stand to be hot. I mean it. I can't take it. I'm a sweater and have bad OCD sometimes and feeling hot always equals feeling dirty for me and it turns into a crying nightmare.
3. I've never lived without it. That's not my fault. I wasn't some demanding princess who had to have it and everyone catered to my whim. It's just simply been that every house that I've ever lived in has had central air conditioning so I'm just accustomed to it. It's noticeable to me when it's not there so I can't just not think about it and go with the flow.
All of these things make for a veto on my part on paper. However, when I was in it, it just felt like our house. I can't explain it other than that. When I looked around, I could see what it could be. I could picture myself cooking dinner while the kids ran around. I could picture a cozy night on the couch with John after they were in bed. I could picture a new deck and lots of friends and family gathered in the summer. It was just perfect, despite being imperfect in so many way.
So the next thing we knew, we had an offer in. It was all a whirlwind. The bank accepted but since then it's been a long week of phone tag and frustration. We're supposed to get to FINALLY sign the contract this weekend and hopefully things will start picking up steam after that. If it falls through (because, lets face it, that's what we're used to) I guess we'll figure it out from there. We're just praying every day that if this is God's will, that we will have a smooth road ahead of us.
Well now that I've gotten that out of the way and it's coming up on midnight, I guess I should update you on the star of the show (until August!) and get out of here...
Gemma Rae Adams is amazing. That's all I can really say. She blows my mind in new ways every day. At 19mo. now, she's turned into such a little person. The baby is pretty much gone. She's grown taller and thinned out and finally grown a cute little head of (blonde???) hair. She runs and jumps and dances to her own imagination, doing the things that pop into her head, not things that we prompt her to do like when she was little and just learning. She's obsessed with animals--turtles and ducks and dogs and cats and fish and farm animals and elephants and monkeys. She loves Abby from Sesame Street makes me help her put her little fairy wings on and carries her little magic wand around. She likes to brush her hair (or ours), she likes to get into her closet and pick outfits and shoes and try to put them on. The other day she had on frilly pajamas, a winter hat, her fairy wings (of course) and her new rubber rain boots. Oh and the 6 necklaces that Santa brought her. That's what she wanted to wear. She LOVES to read and color. She loves music.
She talks up a storm. November was really the month for her to advance leaps and bounds in terms of her number of words... I started keeping track that month, but by December, she was learning so many new words each week that it became impossible to keep up. She says something new every day. And not in a way that she's learned something new. More like she's always known but only then had the reason to actually use the word. Today? "Cottage cheese." It's always hilarious when she pops out something unexpected. She's started singing her own ABC's. She doesn't get the order they go in yet or all of the letters but if I start singing it or if she's just playing with her magnet letters when I'm making food she'll start singing "A, O, E, B, T..." I had no idea that she was picking up counting either until a couple days ago when she blindsided me. I've tried to get her interested but she'd never repeat it back to me. Then I was swinging her around and she counted "1,2,3!" before I dropped her on the couch. It was nuts. She's picking up manners very well. She still always answers no even if she means yes but now when I correct her ("Gemma, would you like some lunch?" "No, no, no." "You mean yes?") she'll respond "Yes, please." instead of just yes. She knows if there's something that she wants, there's no way she's getting it without a 'please', so she took right to it. We're still struggling a little with 'thank you'. If you ask her to say it, she will, very cutely. It's just that she gets so excited or distracted by whatever she so politely asked for and received that she forgets to do it on her own. (We're also having the problem that "thank you" is coming out sounding a lot more like "f**k off". Hopefully that pronunciation issue will sort it self out soon!)
Hmm. I feel like there's so much more to say but I just can't formulate the words in my head anymore. I'm exhausted and hungry and all blogged out. I just want John to come home and I want to get in my flannel sheets and call it a night. I think that break was what I needed though. I hope this will be the start of more frequent updates. I want to remember this part of my life. It seems like 2011 may be one I'll want chronicled.
Hopefully back soon with more good news!
I've meant to update this a hundred times but have lacked the motivation necessary when I actually have the time. Not that I get the time often anymore, it seems. John's been working like crazy, late hours too, and you'd think I'd have all these leisurely nights to myself (I know he thinks that) but I honestly seem to always be ready to relax and do my own thing about 5 minutes before he walks back in the door. But, whatever. It's not important. I'm here now.
Where'd I leave off anyway? Ah, yes. The Sad Time. Those were a very hard and dark few months for our family, for many reasons. I will openly admit we struggled to make it through. John and I had several fights that involved the D-word (though in all the times we've ever said it, I don't think either one of us has ever, ever meant it). Unfortunately, this was the time that his work schedule started to pick up and we were able to attend church less and less... I believe that had a lot to do with our weakness. When we would get to go, we'd have a much better week. Suffice it to say that we made it though. We're still here and stronger than before.
Taking all that junk out of it--the miscarriage, John not getting the jobs, the financial stress, family stuff--the end of 2010 was a pretty good one. In September Gemma started at Busy Bodies, a little structured gym place for kids 1-8. She's in the 12-24mo. class and, despite a tough start, seems to really love it. After a couple of 8 week sessions, she's finally getting it... She knows the routine and follows the schedule. She listens to the teacher. She remembers how to sing the songs and do the motions, she participates in the exercises and activities, and--my favorite part--she seems like she's actually making friends. She gets excited to see the kids that have been there since the beginning with her. She's really enthusiastic at the end of the class when it's "High Five Your Friends" time. It's adorable. Unfortunately for me, it seems like most of the other moms around here work so there are a lot of grandmas and nannies that bring the kids. Not really the bounty of potential mom-friends I'd hoped for. That's okay, though. As long as Gem's enjoying herself.
Halloween was a hoot. Gem was a duck, of course, because she was obsessed with them at the time. Shari helped me make a costume and it turned out so cute. We were invited to go trick-or-treating in Pasadena with Megan and Emily and it turned out to be the best night. I was a little leery of how Gem would react to the whole thing. The first house, she was terrified. John had to carry her up. The second and third, she held his hand and he kinda dragged her up. By the fourth or fifth, she realized that all she had to do was walk up to the door and people would put things in her bucket and she was sold. She was running up to each house, usually with one of us trying to keep up.
Thanksgiving was a little hard, but we ended up making the best of things. John's Grammy was diagnosed with mouth cancer (and later all other sorts of cancer) and had to have surgery in the earlier part of Thanksgiving week. We went down Monday night and were there with her on Tuesday. John, Gemma and I came back Tuesday night because he simply couldn't miss any more work. Shari and Joey stayed. Joey eventually talked Shari into letting him take her car (and Billy subsequently bringing her home Saturday) and he rolled back into town Thursday night, but not before the three of us got to enjoy our very own Thanksgiving dinner. No one else. Just us. It was glorious. It was everything we dream about, everything a lot of people take for granted: time with your family, without unavoidable interference and buttinskis. I cannot wait until that is our every day.
Christmas started creeping up on us slowly this year. Usually it seems to smack me in the face, finding me completely unprepared, but not this time around. I had most of my shopping done--well, the big stuff at least--in November. The tree was up Thanksgiving weekend. And I was, get this, actually IN THE CHRISTMAS MOOD for all of December. I don't think that's happened since I was a kid. (Maybe because I have a kid now?) Anyway, I was excited for it to arrive at first just to see Gemma experience her first REAL Christmas. Last year she was just too little to care or grasp the even the tiniest bit of what was going on. This year, she was a big enough girl to get excited when she saw things for her under the tree. We thought it was just going to be the typical (sigh, lame) holiday. John working, rushing, fish feast Christmas Eve, a hurried, interrupted Christmas morning, Billy and Sigrid droning on here, patheticness at Geri's, a late night. It slowly transformed from that into something really great with just a week to go... I recounted to John how my grandma and Geri would always spend the night on Christmas Eve and be there to watch us open our gifts. That was just a standard part of my Christmas. So he suggested that we invite Geri to be with us to see Gemma. Shari went for it, Geri was really touched, it all seemed to fall into place nicely. Then I started to hear that Matt wouldn't have anywhere to be (our father was obviously not going to care) and we started whispers about inviting him. Everyone was really into the idea and he ended up being really excited, I think. (He doesn't give much away.) They ended up coming over in the afternoon on Christmas Eve, having the big dinner with us... We somehow all accidentally gravitated toward the big room at the end of the night and ended up watching The Town as a family of sorts. Christmas morning, John and I got Gemma up and had a nice, relaxing family morning upstairs. She opened her Santa gifts and John and I exchanged (way too many) gifts and really surprised each other this year. We went down and did the bigger Christmas. Everyone was able to surprise someone else with something they really wanted but didn't expect or would have ever asked for. (My favorite? We got Geri a REAL camera. You don't understand what a big deal that is for her.) We had a cozy breakfast and just lazed for a bit and then Geri and Matt went on their way to do their own things (Matt to his girlfriend's, Geri to Janet and Bill's) and we just. hung. out. All DAY. That never happens. We put on comfy clothes and toyed with our stuff and just enjoyed being the three of us. It was seriously one of the best Christmases I've ever had, if not the best.
Although perhaps next year will beat it...
The current happenings for the Adams family? We're getting bigger by about 1400 square feet, plus 2 teeny-tiny ones. Huh? I must be joking, right? That's what I keep telling myself every day, but so far, no. (Yes, this post just keeps getting longer and longer. Well, it's about to get worse. By a lot.)
So November rolled around. The do-or-wait month. I know I said we'd accept a baby whenever, but there were just too many stupid reasons in my own head that I wanted to either try in November or wait until sometime next year. (i.e. being able to reuse a lot of baby clothes, should the baby be a girl; going into the cold and flu season with a slightly tougher few month old than a brand new one; being able to hopefully reuse a lot of my maternity clothes; really wanting [emotionally needing] time to try to lose some of the baby weight before jeans season came back to avoid needing all new [bigger] pants.) So we gave it a shot. And we waited. And waited. And tested. And tested. Nothing. My period arrival date came and went. We tested some more. Nothing. We waited some more. Now in the world of womanly cycles, I'm very in tune with my body. I charted every single day, I always knew the days I ovulated, the day my period should start. Everything was down to a science. This month, of all months, was a flipping screwball. Completely turned upside down. Had it been a normal cycle, I should have tested positive (assuming I was actually pregnant) by the 5th of December. Oh, no. We did not get those two little lines until the NINETEENTH. (On a whim, in a Target bathroom, on our way to church, I might add.) At that point, I just thought something was wrong with me and that I'd have to make an appointment to get checked out. Just turned out that my body and baby ran on their own schedule that time and forgot to tell me.
So, yes. We are indeed pregnant! Almost 9 weeks along, we're due sometime in the end of August. So far, so good this time around. I've had sporadic spotting this time that I didn't have with Gemma that worries me all the time, but it's nothing like the last pregnancy. It only happens after I've worked out too hard and disappears once I ease up. On top of that, we've had two promising ultrasounds so far. At the most recent, we saw a perfectly normal looking 7 week old baby with a good steady heartbeat. That was a couple weeks after the spotting started, so it doesn't seem to mean anything bad. (Though I know it always could. I'm still taking it very easy and being careful.)
It's been a little rougher this time around. I remember thinking how hard it was to work all day when I was pregnant with Gemma, how tired I felt all the time. That was cake! At least I'd get off at the same time every day and if I wanted to go to sleep at 6:30 or do nothing but lay on the couch because I simply had NO energy left, I could. Not with a 19mo. old to run around after 24/7. Gemma doesn't understand, nor care, when I want to stop reading her favorite book because I need to puke. She doesn't get that sometimes Mommy is just. too. tired. to push her super fast in her car for an hour. So I can't give in. I just push through. And the immense love that having two kids will bring is already rewarding me. Though I know she doesn't really understand, Gemma has gotten into the habit of getting close to my belly and waving her little hand and saying "Hi, baby. Ove oo, baby." and placing little tiny pecks or big ole smooches on it.
Boy or girl, I still have no inklings. No little tugs at my intuition either way. A boy would be a fun change. I think Gem would do beautifully with a little brother. I know I loved having one. But if I'm being really honest? I want a girl. I'm sorry. I want a boy eventually. Next. Third. But now, I want another girl. I never had a sister. Now that I get to spend time with Angie, I see how it could have been. I would love for her to have that. Matt and I grew up incredibly close and spent so much time having fun together, but it's different, you know? At a certain age, you grow apart in ways. You don't share each other clothes and friends and secrets. I want that for her. That said, I will still LOVE a son if we have one. I mean, I wanted a boy the first time around and love the girl I got, right? We already have names picked out for both, so we're prepared in that aspect at least.
Okay, so that explains the 2 feet clue but what about the 1400?
Well, I don't want to count my bridges before they hatch (burn my chickens before I cross them? anyone?) but I think... just maybe.... ever so possibly... John and I might be BUYING A HOUSE. Crazy, I know. But very true. Things are very unsure right now because of some lazy business handling on the bank's, our realtor's, and our mortgage broker's parts but it's looking like it just may work out.
Now we never thought this was a possibility for us anytime soon. That doesn't mean we didn't look for/at houses for fun all the time. New Year's Eve, John was working and I was sitting here, bumming around the internet. I ran out of things to do so I started looking at houses. In Denton (a place we've always wanted to NOT live), there was a foreclosure listed. A 3 bedroom, 2 bath house on THREE POINT TWO THREE ACRES. For $95,000. Seriously? I thought it couldn't possibly be right. There had to be some sort of catch. No matter, we couldn't buy a house anyway. Well, that didn't stop us from loading in the car the next day and driving out to scope it out. From the outside, it was nothing I wanted in a house. Nothing I dreamed about or pictured or put on my must-have list. And yet, I wanted it. (I'm not even mentioning how amazing the property itself is. Very near to civilization but tucked away in the farmland. Clear, flat land but bordered by mature trees all the way around. Close enough to a main road that someone would call 911 if the house were ablaze but has complete privacy.)
John called the realty company that week to just get some info... you know, just for FUN. Just to kinda get our feet wet in the realty world waters, as practice for when we were actually ready to do it ourselves. The next thing we know, they set up an appointment for us to go view it. We went out that Saturday and walked through with an agent, who talked about the house with us like it was already going to be ours. He gave us some names to check out and we ended up talking to a mortgage broker that week and getting approved with no hassles at all. It all seemed incredibly too easy and fast. But not in a bad way. I wear no rose colored glasses. I am not an easily trusting person. I know when I'm being scammed and often suspect it even when I'm not. This was just like... all the doors being opened because this was our house.
I knew it because when we went inside, when we got more information, it was everything on my deal-breaker list. It has to be completely redone on the inside. It essentially has NO kitchen right now. It's teeny tiny. There's next to ZERO closet space and actually zero pantry space. There's not even a real place to put the washer and dryer. There's no basement. And, worst of all, it has NO CENTRAL AIR. Now I'm sorry, there are people out there who can live without it and that's great for them. But there are a few things about me that feed into this...
1. My allergies are horrendous. In my adult life, I've hardly ever been able to keep the windows open and enjoy the breezy days. If I do, I spend them not able to see or breathe. So once the heat goes off in the spring, there's about a two week window that the house can be open like that. Then the a/c has to go on and I seal that baby up tight. Same for summer into fall.
2. I can't stand to be hot. I mean it. I can't take it. I'm a sweater and have bad OCD sometimes and feeling hot always equals feeling dirty for me and it turns into a crying nightmare.
3. I've never lived without it. That's not my fault. I wasn't some demanding princess who had to have it and everyone catered to my whim. It's just simply been that every house that I've ever lived in has had central air conditioning so I'm just accustomed to it. It's noticeable to me when it's not there so I can't just not think about it and go with the flow.
All of these things make for a veto on my part on paper. However, when I was in it, it just felt like our house. I can't explain it other than that. When I looked around, I could see what it could be. I could picture myself cooking dinner while the kids ran around. I could picture a cozy night on the couch with John after they were in bed. I could picture a new deck and lots of friends and family gathered in the summer. It was just perfect, despite being imperfect in so many way.
So the next thing we knew, we had an offer in. It was all a whirlwind. The bank accepted but since then it's been a long week of phone tag and frustration. We're supposed to get to FINALLY sign the contract this weekend and hopefully things will start picking up steam after that. If it falls through (because, lets face it, that's what we're used to) I guess we'll figure it out from there. We're just praying every day that if this is God's will, that we will have a smooth road ahead of us.
Well now that I've gotten that out of the way and it's coming up on midnight, I guess I should update you on the star of the show (until August!) and get out of here...
Gemma Rae Adams is amazing. That's all I can really say. She blows my mind in new ways every day. At 19mo. now, she's turned into such a little person. The baby is pretty much gone. She's grown taller and thinned out and finally grown a cute little head of (blonde???) hair. She runs and jumps and dances to her own imagination, doing the things that pop into her head, not things that we prompt her to do like when she was little and just learning. She's obsessed with animals--turtles and ducks and dogs and cats and fish and farm animals and elephants and monkeys. She loves Abby from Sesame Street makes me help her put her little fairy wings on and carries her little magic wand around. She likes to brush her hair (or ours), she likes to get into her closet and pick outfits and shoes and try to put them on. The other day she had on frilly pajamas, a winter hat, her fairy wings (of course) and her new rubber rain boots. Oh and the 6 necklaces that Santa brought her. That's what she wanted to wear. She LOVES to read and color. She loves music.
She talks up a storm. November was really the month for her to advance leaps and bounds in terms of her number of words... I started keeping track that month, but by December, she was learning so many new words each week that it became impossible to keep up. She says something new every day. And not in a way that she's learned something new. More like she's always known but only then had the reason to actually use the word. Today? "Cottage cheese." It's always hilarious when she pops out something unexpected. She's started singing her own ABC's. She doesn't get the order they go in yet or all of the letters but if I start singing it or if she's just playing with her magnet letters when I'm making food she'll start singing "A, O, E, B, T..." I had no idea that she was picking up counting either until a couple days ago when she blindsided me. I've tried to get her interested but she'd never repeat it back to me. Then I was swinging her around and she counted "1,2,3!" before I dropped her on the couch. It was nuts. She's picking up manners very well. She still always answers no even if she means yes but now when I correct her ("Gemma, would you like some lunch?" "No, no, no." "You mean yes?") she'll respond "Yes, please." instead of just yes. She knows if there's something that she wants, there's no way she's getting it without a 'please', so she took right to it. We're still struggling a little with 'thank you'. If you ask her to say it, she will, very cutely. It's just that she gets so excited or distracted by whatever she so politely asked for and received that she forgets to do it on her own. (We're also having the problem that "thank you" is coming out sounding a lot more like "f**k off". Hopefully that pronunciation issue will sort it self out soon!)
Hmm. I feel like there's so much more to say but I just can't formulate the words in my head anymore. I'm exhausted and hungry and all blogged out. I just want John to come home and I want to get in my flannel sheets and call it a night. I think that break was what I needed though. I hope this will be the start of more frequent updates. I want to remember this part of my life. It seems like 2011 may be one I'll want chronicled.
Hopefully back soon with more good news!
9.22.2010
Funny how you're always so sure of things.
Wow, did I speak too soon. This has been quite a month, especially emotionally.
My last post was the night of August 24th. I went over how we had techincally tried to get pregnant and that I believed I was but that I got my period on the 11th of August. That I thought I had experienced a chemical pregnancy. That I got a +OPK on the 24th and was ovulating. My, how wrong I was.
It was not a chemical pregnancy. It was a very real pregnancy. That day--the 24th--I got a couple +OPKs, and then the same thing happened the day, the 25th. I know my body and, despite having gotten my "period" on the 11th, I still didn't feel right. My head told me I obviously wasn't pregnant, but everything else screamed something was going on. So after getting so many +OPKs and feeling strange, I remembered reading that ovulation tests can come up positive if you're pregnant. So, I took a pregnancy test. It was just like Gemma... That positive line came up instantly and was much, much darker than the test line. I, understandably, freaked out and immediately called my OB's office.
Dr. Rafi was on vacation until late into the next week, so her partner, Dr. Bonsue, squeezed me in the next morning. A physical exam revealed that my cervix was closed, which she said could be a good sign (that the pregnancy was still intact and that the bleeding was unrelated) or a bad one (that I'd passed everything already, even though that didn't make chronological sense). She sent me for blood work. I went for HCG levels three times. The first was 4000, the second was 4200, the third was 4069. Not good. The number should have doubled each time. Dr. Rafi was the one to call me with the results and she said that she assumed that I'd miscarried back on the 11th and that there must've just been some remnants from the pregnancy that I hadn't passed, which were keeping my hormone levels up. She scheduled me for an ultrasound the next morning to see what was left and then wanted to schedule me for a D&C.
We're now at August 31st. I had to go for my ultrasound alone because John couldn't take off from work. I had been a mental wreck (I had yet to be truly emotional about the situation--sometimes I have trouble with that, it was the same when my mom died) for a couple of days but had finally processed the fact that I had been pregnant but that it hadn't worked out for some reason and that our baby was gone. I was prepared to go into the appointment and have them say, "I'm very sorry, but you lost your baby." That was the thing I feared hearing the most, but I came to wish that's what I'd heard. Instead, boom. Right on the screen was an obvious baby. Well, obvious if you know what to look for at 6 weeks and 6 days. There was gestational sac, a yolk sac, and a fetal pole, measuring right on time. That was not what I had mentally prepared myself for. I had let go of any hope. This blew me out of the water. The tech called the doctor in and they both looked from different angles for a while, making all sorts of confusing faces. Then they checked for a heartbeat. Now I'm slightly obsessed with matters of fertility and pregnancy and babies and I know what we should've seen. There was the obvious flickering of a heart, a live, beating heart, but it was slow. Too slow. Painfully slow. 30bpm. Thirty. It should've been flittering away, at a good 90-120bpm. No, it was 30. One beat every two seconds. Seeing that, I think, was the most devastating part of all. To know that our little baby--a little person we already loved even though we thought we'd lost them, a little person who we imagined being another little Gem--was there and was hanging on with all it had in its little 7 week old self.
Of course, the doctor didn't have to tell me for me to know that there was no hope at that point. Things were not going to take a dramatic turn for the better. We were not going to get a take home baby out of this. No, we had to wait. We had to know that there was a little person that we had created living and growing inside of me and we had to wait for them to let go. Dr. Rafi scheduled me for another ultrasound about a week later (September 8th) before we would go ahead with any course of action. When I went in that day, I knew what I would see and hear. Our little fighter had finally had enough and had gone to be with God. There was no more heartbeat at that next appointment. The baby had not grown much. It was over.
The problem then became the fact that, other than the bleeding I'd had a month prior, my body did not seem to want to let this pregnancy go. My hormone levels continued to rise and fall and rise and fall. I had no bleeding, no pain, my uterus didn't get any smaller, and my pregnancy symptoms actually continued. Dr. Rafi scheduled a D&C for the 15th. That day was something I'd foolishly assumed I'd never have to experience. I don't know. I don't mean it in a cocky way, but I never imagined myself ever miscarrying. It's so common these days, and yet I thought it was something that wouldn't touch my life. Especially after having such an amazing pregnancy with Gemma.
Thankfully John managed to take off and was with me the whole time, as much as he was allowed to be, at least. It was my first experience with any sort of real medical procedure, my first experience with anesthesia. On top of everything going on in my head related to the baby, I was incredibly nervous about doing it in general. I remember being wheeled into the operating room and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the recovery room. The terrible part, though, was that I woke myself up by crying. I didn't even realize it was happening, I just woke up in the middle of a sob. Everything that had been held back (voluntarily or not, mostly not) up until that point just let loose. John hadn't been brought back yet, so I was lying alone in a dark, curtained off section of the recovery center, crying. It was the saddest I think I've been in a very long time, if I've ever even been that sad.
Fortunately, all the nurses I had that day were angels from God. I could not have asked for better, more comforting women to have with me. One of them came in to check on me and wiped my tears away with my blanket and told me she'd been there and that I'd be okay. Within the half hour, they got me up and in a chair and wheeled me over to another part of the recovery center, where John was waiting for me. He got to sit with me until I was cleared to be released.
I know it sounds stupid to even say, but I never want to go through that again. Of course not. Who does? I'm now (probably typically) terrified that Gemma was the fluke and this will be the norm. What if Gemma was a one-in-a-billion miracle and we're destined to relive this over and over? It's definitely a possibility with John's history. Before we're cleared to try again, Dr. Rafi wants to send him for a sperm analysis to see if the chemo, indeed, had any sort of effect on the quality of his sperm. She said she wants to do it so we can avoid having to go through this again if there is something wrong. I know her heart's in the right place, but what does that mean, exactly? That if there is something wrong, we just won't try anymore? We're not done having children, not even close. I don't even know what hearing that would do to me. That's what really keeps me going in life--the idea of having more babies. It's all I've ever wanted to do.
Thankfully, she also sent tissue samples from the D&C for chromosomal testing, so if it was just a genetic abnormality (all on its own) we'll know that too. Amazingly, she said that she'll be able to tell us if the baby was a boy or a girl. Most people who lose a pregnancy at 9 weeks don't get the chance to find that out. Small blessings, huh?
So that's our story. It has now been one week and two days since it "ended." It hasn't really, though. I'm still bleeding (despite Dr. Rafi saying I'd bleed for a day and spot for one or two more), pregnancy tests are still positive, we're still waiting to hear about the test results. They won't come back for a month, though. I have my follow up Tuesday afternoon, though I'm hoping to reschedule since it's our anniversary and that would throw the whole night off. Providing the tests come back okay, she tentatively said we could start trying after two normal cycles. That'd put us in the November-January range, if we were to get pregnant right away. That's a... August-October baby. Not what we were hoping for, but we're starting to throw the planning out the window and just live. Whenever we should be blessed with another child would be the right time. God knows better than we do.
There are other things to update on, I suppose. Gem's 15 months now and is growing and developing like crazy. I'll come back soon and fill you in on all that. I think I need to leave this separate, though. I don't want it coloring any other part of my life, especially my happiness in Gemma.
My last post was the night of August 24th. I went over how we had techincally tried to get pregnant and that I believed I was but that I got my period on the 11th of August. That I thought I had experienced a chemical pregnancy. That I got a +OPK on the 24th and was ovulating. My, how wrong I was.
It was not a chemical pregnancy. It was a very real pregnancy. That day--the 24th--I got a couple +OPKs, and then the same thing happened the day, the 25th. I know my body and, despite having gotten my "period" on the 11th, I still didn't feel right. My head told me I obviously wasn't pregnant, but everything else screamed something was going on. So after getting so many +OPKs and feeling strange, I remembered reading that ovulation tests can come up positive if you're pregnant. So, I took a pregnancy test. It was just like Gemma... That positive line came up instantly and was much, much darker than the test line. I, understandably, freaked out and immediately called my OB's office.
Dr. Rafi was on vacation until late into the next week, so her partner, Dr. Bonsue, squeezed me in the next morning. A physical exam revealed that my cervix was closed, which she said could be a good sign (that the pregnancy was still intact and that the bleeding was unrelated) or a bad one (that I'd passed everything already, even though that didn't make chronological sense). She sent me for blood work. I went for HCG levels three times. The first was 4000, the second was 4200, the third was 4069. Not good. The number should have doubled each time. Dr. Rafi was the one to call me with the results and she said that she assumed that I'd miscarried back on the 11th and that there must've just been some remnants from the pregnancy that I hadn't passed, which were keeping my hormone levels up. She scheduled me for an ultrasound the next morning to see what was left and then wanted to schedule me for a D&C.
We're now at August 31st. I had to go for my ultrasound alone because John couldn't take off from work. I had been a mental wreck (I had yet to be truly emotional about the situation--sometimes I have trouble with that, it was the same when my mom died) for a couple of days but had finally processed the fact that I had been pregnant but that it hadn't worked out for some reason and that our baby was gone. I was prepared to go into the appointment and have them say, "I'm very sorry, but you lost your baby." That was the thing I feared hearing the most, but I came to wish that's what I'd heard. Instead, boom. Right on the screen was an obvious baby. Well, obvious if you know what to look for at 6 weeks and 6 days. There was gestational sac, a yolk sac, and a fetal pole, measuring right on time. That was not what I had mentally prepared myself for. I had let go of any hope. This blew me out of the water. The tech called the doctor in and they both looked from different angles for a while, making all sorts of confusing faces. Then they checked for a heartbeat. Now I'm slightly obsessed with matters of fertility and pregnancy and babies and I know what we should've seen. There was the obvious flickering of a heart, a live, beating heart, but it was slow. Too slow. Painfully slow. 30bpm. Thirty. It should've been flittering away, at a good 90-120bpm. No, it was 30. One beat every two seconds. Seeing that, I think, was the most devastating part of all. To know that our little baby--a little person we already loved even though we thought we'd lost them, a little person who we imagined being another little Gem--was there and was hanging on with all it had in its little 7 week old self.
Of course, the doctor didn't have to tell me for me to know that there was no hope at that point. Things were not going to take a dramatic turn for the better. We were not going to get a take home baby out of this. No, we had to wait. We had to know that there was a little person that we had created living and growing inside of me and we had to wait for them to let go. Dr. Rafi scheduled me for another ultrasound about a week later (September 8th) before we would go ahead with any course of action. When I went in that day, I knew what I would see and hear. Our little fighter had finally had enough and had gone to be with God. There was no more heartbeat at that next appointment. The baby had not grown much. It was over.
The problem then became the fact that, other than the bleeding I'd had a month prior, my body did not seem to want to let this pregnancy go. My hormone levels continued to rise and fall and rise and fall. I had no bleeding, no pain, my uterus didn't get any smaller, and my pregnancy symptoms actually continued. Dr. Rafi scheduled a D&C for the 15th. That day was something I'd foolishly assumed I'd never have to experience. I don't know. I don't mean it in a cocky way, but I never imagined myself ever miscarrying. It's so common these days, and yet I thought it was something that wouldn't touch my life. Especially after having such an amazing pregnancy with Gemma.
Thankfully John managed to take off and was with me the whole time, as much as he was allowed to be, at least. It was my first experience with any sort of real medical procedure, my first experience with anesthesia. On top of everything going on in my head related to the baby, I was incredibly nervous about doing it in general. I remember being wheeled into the operating room and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the recovery room. The terrible part, though, was that I woke myself up by crying. I didn't even realize it was happening, I just woke up in the middle of a sob. Everything that had been held back (voluntarily or not, mostly not) up until that point just let loose. John hadn't been brought back yet, so I was lying alone in a dark, curtained off section of the recovery center, crying. It was the saddest I think I've been in a very long time, if I've ever even been that sad.
Fortunately, all the nurses I had that day were angels from God. I could not have asked for better, more comforting women to have with me. One of them came in to check on me and wiped my tears away with my blanket and told me she'd been there and that I'd be okay. Within the half hour, they got me up and in a chair and wheeled me over to another part of the recovery center, where John was waiting for me. He got to sit with me until I was cleared to be released.
I know it sounds stupid to even say, but I never want to go through that again. Of course not. Who does? I'm now (probably typically) terrified that Gemma was the fluke and this will be the norm. What if Gemma was a one-in-a-billion miracle and we're destined to relive this over and over? It's definitely a possibility with John's history. Before we're cleared to try again, Dr. Rafi wants to send him for a sperm analysis to see if the chemo, indeed, had any sort of effect on the quality of his sperm. She said she wants to do it so we can avoid having to go through this again if there is something wrong. I know her heart's in the right place, but what does that mean, exactly? That if there is something wrong, we just won't try anymore? We're not done having children, not even close. I don't even know what hearing that would do to me. That's what really keeps me going in life--the idea of having more babies. It's all I've ever wanted to do.
Thankfully, she also sent tissue samples from the D&C for chromosomal testing, so if it was just a genetic abnormality (all on its own) we'll know that too. Amazingly, she said that she'll be able to tell us if the baby was a boy or a girl. Most people who lose a pregnancy at 9 weeks don't get the chance to find that out. Small blessings, huh?
So that's our story. It has now been one week and two days since it "ended." It hasn't really, though. I'm still bleeding (despite Dr. Rafi saying I'd bleed for a day and spot for one or two more), pregnancy tests are still positive, we're still waiting to hear about the test results. They won't come back for a month, though. I have my follow up Tuesday afternoon, though I'm hoping to reschedule since it's our anniversary and that would throw the whole night off. Providing the tests come back okay, she tentatively said we could start trying after two normal cycles. That'd put us in the November-January range, if we were to get pregnant right away. That's a... August-October baby. Not what we were hoping for, but we're starting to throw the planning out the window and just live. Whenever we should be blessed with another child would be the right time. God knows better than we do.
There are other things to update on, I suppose. Gem's 15 months now and is growing and developing like crazy. I'll come back soon and fill you in on all that. I think I need to leave this separate, though. I don't want it coloring any other part of my life, especially my happiness in Gemma.
8.24.2010
Dark at 8:30?
So summer is coming to a close. True, officially the season still has about a month to go according to the calendar, but it's getting slightly cooler some days, it's getting darker a little earlier, and all the kids (or I should say my teacher friends) are back in school. I hate this. Fall is my favorite season--my favorite time all-around--and yet I'm dreading this one. Things in our life are so unsettled right now, our attitudes are all wrong, and I do not want to associate it with one of my favorite things.
Suffice it to say, John didn't get either apprenticeship. Understandably, with the current economy, there weren't a lot of jobs to go around and this is a business where it helps to know people. And we don't. The day after he got the letter from the union he really wanted, he walked up to one of their members on his jobsite--a guy he's worked next to for about two years now. With him was a kid a little younger than John who had obviously never set foot on any construction site, let alone a massive government project. That kid was the man's new apprentice. John chatted with the guy for a little bit, asked about his apprentice. He told him how he'd applied and had really hoped for the opportunity. John said the guy sourly shook his head and said John should've gotten it, but the kid "must've had more buddies."
I can't stand it. I swore I wouldn't be bitter and hateful if it didn't happen, that I would trust in the Lord's plan, and that's what I'm trying really hard to do. At least most days, I'm handling the fear for our future pretty well. I get scared and anxious sometimes, but deep down I feel a peace that He will provide. There will be a way that we just don't see yet. The thing that I struggle with is seeing John face rejection time and time again. It tears him up that he can't provide for Gemma and I and each time he gets turned down, I can almost see a little piece of him crumble away. I know he hates himself for it and I hate THAT.
The thing that has us hopeful right now though is that this past Wednesday we went to court and John was GRANTED his PBJ! Something actually worked out right when we needed it most. Had we left that courthouse denied, who knows what would've happened. But we didn't so I'm not going to dwell on it. We went in there and deadbeat after deadbeat went up, all disheveled and unprepared, mumbling to the judge about drug charges and DUIs and back child support and then it was John's turn, dressed in a shirt and tie (not just bought for the occasion, either), standing tall and addressing the judge confidently and respectfully. The judge (who we had all through his case these past two years) went over everything and said he really thought John could benefit from the chance to start fresh and said he was going to grant the request, noting that in all his career there he could count on one hand the number of times he'd wiped someone's record clean. So now we have a fresh start. Praise God and his infinite grace.
So now we're left with quite the clean slate, actually. While John no longer has a criminal record following him around--which should open some doors, hopefully--the future we'd planned on (admittedly before we knew anything, which was our fault) isn't going to happen, so now we could take practically any path.
And right now, in both our hearts, all paths surprisingly lead to Morgantown, WV. We'd talked seriously about moving to WV a couple years ago and then changed things. We're still not totally sure; John does plan to apply to the same unions again this year, as well as many others, so should any of those work out, we'd stay. That said, John's grandma isn't doing too well. We love her and want her to be around a lot longer, but she's 87 and at the very least won't be on the outside of assisted living much longer. There's been talk that we could live in her house when she doesn't live there anymore. Originally, we'd only considered using the opportunity as long as they'd allow (Shari, Billy, and Michael would sell the house and split the money eventually), but now John and I are really warming up to the idea of buying it and making it our own. The ideal situation would be for him to go find a job there soon and start to plant some roots and then Gem and I would move into the house with him once she's gone. Then, hopefully, they'd be open to one of two options:
1. Let us live there rent free (which was what they kind of proposed anyway) for a couple of years while John logs some time in a local job and we save up money. We would, during that time, fix the house up (which we'd want to do anyway) and they'd get more for it when we left and they sold it.
2. Let us live there, paying rent, for a couple of years until John gets the time in a local job, we build up our credit, and save some more money. Then we'd buy it from them, with our previous rent being credited to us against what they wanted for it.
There are a lot of job opportunities in the area right now, much to our surprise, and if we could just get a chance to talk to all three of them and get them to give us a definitive answer, we'd start moving forward. We're too scared for John to apply for jobs there yet if there's a chance it wouldn't happen, though. We wouldn't want to have wasted our time--or even worse, have him accepted a job there and have been working--and then not have a place for Gem and I to go. Renting is not something we want to do, especially in that area, and we would never be approved for a mortgage for a few years.
So. That's where we stand right now. It's frustrating feeling so stagnant. Now that we know about the apprenticeships though, hopefully he can start applying to other avenues this week.
On a better note, before I go, I would like to update you on just how much Gemma has advanced lately! She can now say book, duck, milk, cheese, and dog. She is obsessed with reading and has favorite books. Specifically Balloons, Balloons, Balloons. She will go to her bookshelf everytime and search for it and will find it no matter where I put it. Then she won't be happy until you read it to her. Or go down for a nap or to bed until you read it to her. She's learning to navigate the stairs. She uses a fork and a spoon, a lot of the time at least. The other day I was doing something in the kitchen and she went and opened the cabinet where her snacks are, took out the box of Fruity Cheerios, pulled the bag out of the box, and sat down and started snacking. She likes to play tricks on people and games. She'll play with my hair if I tell her to make me pretty. She gives hugs and kisses on her own now. She helps me clean up her toys when I ask her. Not that well, but she tries. There are probably so many more things I can't think of right now, but that should do for now. We just can't believe how much of a kid she's becoming with each passing day. We're loving every second of it as much as it may terrify us now and then. Of course, it does nothing to help our desperate desire to have another really soon.
We had a close call a few weeks ago. We childishly disregared our vow to wait until we were sure the time was right because in our hearts it was, we just tuned out our heads, and we let our guard down at the appropriate time. I chart and know when I ovulated. I started to feel weird, the same way I felt when I was in the early stages of pregnancy with Gemma. We began to get really excited, albeit terrified of what we'd done. Unfortunately my cycles have been off since returning after giving birth. During the time I was taking Vitex, I ovulated on cd13 and had a beautiful 14 day LP. I thought I was back to normal and when the supplements ran out, I decided money was tight and I'd be okay without it. Then I slowly shifted to ovulating around cd20 and only had an 8 or 9 day LP. Not enough to sustain a pregnancy. That exact thing happened last month. We timed trying perfectly and I started to believe I was (and I really DO believe I was)... I got a faint positive on an HPT on the morning of 9dpo. Later that night, my period came. I believe I had a chemical pregnancy. We were so disappointed. We know if it were meant to be, it would've been though. We just have to learn to accept such things. (Edited to add: I got my period on August 11th and started back on the Vitex with the beginning of this cycle. Today, at cd14, I got a positive OPK. It obviously works for me. Knowing we'd have a better chance this month though is not helping. I'd just as soon not have the temptation.)
For now, with everything, it's a waiting game. We'll see what happens with jobs, with living situations, with babies. Hopefully I'll have some amazing news on one or all fronts within a month or so. We need it. But what we really need is to be still and listen.
Dear Heavenly Father,
We are trusting your infinite wisdom and truly believe you have a plan for us. We will keep striving at the things we feel you are urging us to do and will trust that you will open doors for us when you deem fit. We know that you are constantly aware of the desires of our hearts and will provide for us. We aren't as strong as we should be, however, and selfishly pray that you might show us that we're going to make it one day soon. We pray for patience, which we horribly lack. We pray for guidance and protection. We pray for the right words to say. We pray for our little family, that we might grow stronger in You throughout all these trials and not tear each other down. You are all-knowing and love us more than we could ever comprehend and we thank you and praise you for that. Thank you for what we do have.
In Jesus's sweet and Heavenly name,
AMEN
Suffice it to say, John didn't get either apprenticeship. Understandably, with the current economy, there weren't a lot of jobs to go around and this is a business where it helps to know people. And we don't. The day after he got the letter from the union he really wanted, he walked up to one of their members on his jobsite--a guy he's worked next to for about two years now. With him was a kid a little younger than John who had obviously never set foot on any construction site, let alone a massive government project. That kid was the man's new apprentice. John chatted with the guy for a little bit, asked about his apprentice. He told him how he'd applied and had really hoped for the opportunity. John said the guy sourly shook his head and said John should've gotten it, but the kid "must've had more buddies."
I can't stand it. I swore I wouldn't be bitter and hateful if it didn't happen, that I would trust in the Lord's plan, and that's what I'm trying really hard to do. At least most days, I'm handling the fear for our future pretty well. I get scared and anxious sometimes, but deep down I feel a peace that He will provide. There will be a way that we just don't see yet. The thing that I struggle with is seeing John face rejection time and time again. It tears him up that he can't provide for Gemma and I and each time he gets turned down, I can almost see a little piece of him crumble away. I know he hates himself for it and I hate THAT.
The thing that has us hopeful right now though is that this past Wednesday we went to court and John was GRANTED his PBJ! Something actually worked out right when we needed it most. Had we left that courthouse denied, who knows what would've happened. But we didn't so I'm not going to dwell on it. We went in there and deadbeat after deadbeat went up, all disheveled and unprepared, mumbling to the judge about drug charges and DUIs and back child support and then it was John's turn, dressed in a shirt and tie (not just bought for the occasion, either), standing tall and addressing the judge confidently and respectfully. The judge (who we had all through his case these past two years) went over everything and said he really thought John could benefit from the chance to start fresh and said he was going to grant the request, noting that in all his career there he could count on one hand the number of times he'd wiped someone's record clean. So now we have a fresh start. Praise God and his infinite grace.
So now we're left with quite the clean slate, actually. While John no longer has a criminal record following him around--which should open some doors, hopefully--the future we'd planned on (admittedly before we knew anything, which was our fault) isn't going to happen, so now we could take practically any path.
And right now, in both our hearts, all paths surprisingly lead to Morgantown, WV. We'd talked seriously about moving to WV a couple years ago and then changed things. We're still not totally sure; John does plan to apply to the same unions again this year, as well as many others, so should any of those work out, we'd stay. That said, John's grandma isn't doing too well. We love her and want her to be around a lot longer, but she's 87 and at the very least won't be on the outside of assisted living much longer. There's been talk that we could live in her house when she doesn't live there anymore. Originally, we'd only considered using the opportunity as long as they'd allow (Shari, Billy, and Michael would sell the house and split the money eventually), but now John and I are really warming up to the idea of buying it and making it our own. The ideal situation would be for him to go find a job there soon and start to plant some roots and then Gem and I would move into the house with him once she's gone. Then, hopefully, they'd be open to one of two options:
1. Let us live there rent free (which was what they kind of proposed anyway) for a couple of years while John logs some time in a local job and we save up money. We would, during that time, fix the house up (which we'd want to do anyway) and they'd get more for it when we left and they sold it.
2. Let us live there, paying rent, for a couple of years until John gets the time in a local job, we build up our credit, and save some more money. Then we'd buy it from them, with our previous rent being credited to us against what they wanted for it.
There are a lot of job opportunities in the area right now, much to our surprise, and if we could just get a chance to talk to all three of them and get them to give us a definitive answer, we'd start moving forward. We're too scared for John to apply for jobs there yet if there's a chance it wouldn't happen, though. We wouldn't want to have wasted our time--or even worse, have him accepted a job there and have been working--and then not have a place for Gem and I to go. Renting is not something we want to do, especially in that area, and we would never be approved for a mortgage for a few years.
So. That's where we stand right now. It's frustrating feeling so stagnant. Now that we know about the apprenticeships though, hopefully he can start applying to other avenues this week.
On a better note, before I go, I would like to update you on just how much Gemma has advanced lately! She can now say book, duck, milk, cheese, and dog. She is obsessed with reading and has favorite books. Specifically Balloons, Balloons, Balloons. She will go to her bookshelf everytime and search for it and will find it no matter where I put it. Then she won't be happy until you read it to her. Or go down for a nap or to bed until you read it to her. She's learning to navigate the stairs. She uses a fork and a spoon, a lot of the time at least. The other day I was doing something in the kitchen and she went and opened the cabinet where her snacks are, took out the box of Fruity Cheerios, pulled the bag out of the box, and sat down and started snacking. She likes to play tricks on people and games. She'll play with my hair if I tell her to make me pretty. She gives hugs and kisses on her own now. She helps me clean up her toys when I ask her. Not that well, but she tries. There are probably so many more things I can't think of right now, but that should do for now. We just can't believe how much of a kid she's becoming with each passing day. We're loving every second of it as much as it may terrify us now and then. Of course, it does nothing to help our desperate desire to have another really soon.
We had a close call a few weeks ago. We childishly disregared our vow to wait until we were sure the time was right because in our hearts it was, we just tuned out our heads, and we let our guard down at the appropriate time. I chart and know when I ovulated. I started to feel weird, the same way I felt when I was in the early stages of pregnancy with Gemma. We began to get really excited, albeit terrified of what we'd done. Unfortunately my cycles have been off since returning after giving birth. During the time I was taking Vitex, I ovulated on cd13 and had a beautiful 14 day LP. I thought I was back to normal and when the supplements ran out, I decided money was tight and I'd be okay without it. Then I slowly shifted to ovulating around cd20 and only had an 8 or 9 day LP. Not enough to sustain a pregnancy. That exact thing happened last month. We timed trying perfectly and I started to believe I was (and I really DO believe I was)... I got a faint positive on an HPT on the morning of 9dpo. Later that night, my period came. I believe I had a chemical pregnancy. We were so disappointed. We know if it were meant to be, it would've been though. We just have to learn to accept such things. (Edited to add: I got my period on August 11th and started back on the Vitex with the beginning of this cycle. Today, at cd14, I got a positive OPK. It obviously works for me. Knowing we'd have a better chance this month though is not helping. I'd just as soon not have the temptation.)
For now, with everything, it's a waiting game. We'll see what happens with jobs, with living situations, with babies. Hopefully I'll have some amazing news on one or all fronts within a month or so. We need it. But what we really need is to be still and listen.
Dear Heavenly Father,
We are trusting your infinite wisdom and truly believe you have a plan for us. We will keep striving at the things we feel you are urging us to do and will trust that you will open doors for us when you deem fit. We know that you are constantly aware of the desires of our hearts and will provide for us. We aren't as strong as we should be, however, and selfishly pray that you might show us that we're going to make it one day soon. We pray for patience, which we horribly lack. We pray for guidance and protection. We pray for the right words to say. We pray for our little family, that we might grow stronger in You throughout all these trials and not tear each other down. You are all-knowing and love us more than we could ever comprehend and we thank you and praise you for that. Thank you for what we do have.
In Jesus's sweet and Heavenly name,
AMEN
7.30.2010
On a quiet afternoon...
Gem's napping and I'm sitting here without much to do, so I thought a quick update might be in order. I can't think of much to say right now, but I don't want to just let this fall by the wayside.
Ever since I said Gemma was walking, she's been nothing short of a pro at it. She takes after her Daddy in all things physical. She puts her little mind to something and can do it pretty much on the first shot. She runs around, is already working on jumping, climbs like a monkey, can throw a ball and even kick one really well---even little tiny ones! That should come much later, from what I understand. Maybe she'll play soccer. I'd rather her do that than dance, I think. Unfortunately, while she takes after John in the ability to do the things she wants quite well, she somehow also got my gene for being incredibly accident prone. How one child could possess both traits, I'll never understand. She's constantly covered with bumps and bruises, but it's from her neverending sense of adventure and desire to try new things. She'll fall or tumble or flip but she scrambles right back up and keeps going, laughing all the way.
Gem's still more physically advance than verbally, but she's working hard at it every day. She'll say her little baby words and have such a look of concentration that I know she thinks she's saying something. Or trying. The other morning--it was the first day John and I had the opportunity to sleep in (past 6, at least) in weeks and we just weren't functioning as early as she would've liked us to have been. Anyway, she was rolling around in the bed with us and I set her on the floor and told her to go get a book, hoping that would distract her for a few minutes. (When her bookshelves catch her eye, she'll spend a good 15 minutes pulling them all out and looking at them.) Well, she toddled off into her room (connected to ours, she was safe!) and a minute later she's smacking me with a little Dr. Seuss, saying "Buh, mama! Buh!" I, of course, was so excited that I didn't care about sleeping anymore. She's been telling the dogs "No, no, no!" for a while, but just this morning they were barking and she stopped playing, marched over to the gate, looked at them with a mean face and yelled "Shush!" It was the cutest thing.
She's also doing a lot more imitating/learning. I put my socks on the bed today and as I put one on, she put the other on her foot. She helps me when I dress her... She'll hold one little leg out and then the other. She can drink out of a big kid cup pretty well, but still uses sippies most of the time. She's learned to flush the toilet, which can be kind of annoying.
August starts in two days which means it won't be much longer till we get a yes or no from the two apprenticeships for which John applied. I can't believe the time's finally here and I'm starting to get more and more nervous to hear the answers. We've been working really hard this summer though on acceptance and faith. Before, we would have been severely depressed and angry if neither of them worked out and it most likely would've have a big impact on our marriage. We, of course, hope that he gets offered at least one of them and are very optimistic. That said, though, we know God will take us down whatever path we're supposed to be on, steamfitters or not. If, for some reason, he's denied from both, we'll be sad but we'll keep pushing onward and eventually He'll reveal to us whatever window is out there.
We're also trying to apply that mentality to our next pregnancy, as well. We both desperately want to have another baby, have for a while. We said we'd start trying in August and were really tempted to just go for it this month. We've been trying really hard to discern our own desires from what we feel God is telling us to do, though. When I say we need to wait until we find out if he got the job, John will argue that having a baby would show faith that God will open the door and that we'll be okay. I'll counter that maybe it's a big lesson in teaching me patience, which is a virtue I lack. I don't know. We're praying and listening and, for now, waiting. When we talked about trying back in June, I said that I felt like we were supposed to wait, but not long. A few months maybe. I think we should have the rest of our lives ironed out in the next month or two and then it'll be time. We'll see.
Should we decide to go ahead with another baby while we still live here, we'll be putting some walls up upstairs. Gem and another can definitely share the nursery, it's plenty big enough. Besides, we like the idea of them being close when they're little. We'd want to close the wall off between our rooms, though. Not only for noise control (when the baby would be in with us and up all night), but also simply because the added wall space would come in extremely handy when it's time to put more furniture in there. Then we'd put up a dividing wall in our room and make the living space bigger and close our bedroom part off. We don't want to put a lot of money into this place, but we're trying to last here as long as we can so that when we do go, it'll be with a lot more resources to do what we want without taking on a lot of debt.
Speaking of which, John working this second job has been a Godsend when combined with our new attitudes and outlook on our financial life. We are chipping away at what we do owe people and can see the light at the end of the (very, very long) tunnel! Our credit cards are almost completely paid off and will not be used anymore, except for emergencies. (Though as soon as we get out from under this, we'll be saving up a big emergency fund so that cash will be available in those circumstances in the future.) We only owe his lawyer $250 more and my previous medical bills are down to less than $500! Once we take care of all that, we're going to start putting everything we can into paying off my car and then roll all of that into paying off his student loans. After that, we can officially say we're debt free. We're so excited about life now that we have a plan and motivation. We don't feel the despair or frustration we used to.
Also! We sent in the last ever probation payment a few days ago! John's probation is up in less than a month and on August 18th he has a hearing to wipe his record clean. Talk about a fresh start.
Oh, ha. (Didn't I say I didn't have much to say?) John got his Trooper! After weeks (maybe months) of search ads and having things fall through, he spotted a Craigslist ad minutes after it was posted for a 1991 Isuzu Trooper (pretty much exactly what he'd been looking for) in great shape with low mileage for $700! In Anne Arundel Co. We went to see it the next day and John ended up buying it. It had sat in the guy's yard for like a year because he had a big problem getting the title from the previous owner (in Montana, so no rust!). It turned out that the fuel pump was busted, so he knocked $100 off. It's an easy fix. The interior is perfect, we spent an afternoon having fun cleaning every little nook and cranny and it looks new. Well, except for the fact that it's old. The only other thing it needed is a paint job, which John had planned to do anyway because he had a specific color in mind anyway. He's going to do that soon and get it running and then over time restore everything. I'm happy he's happy and that he has a little project.
Well, I guess I'll stop now. Gem's waking up and I'm sure is starving. It's an hour past lunch. Back soon with good news, hopefully!
Ever since I said Gemma was walking, she's been nothing short of a pro at it. She takes after her Daddy in all things physical. She puts her little mind to something and can do it pretty much on the first shot. She runs around, is already working on jumping, climbs like a monkey, can throw a ball and even kick one really well---even little tiny ones! That should come much later, from what I understand. Maybe she'll play soccer. I'd rather her do that than dance, I think. Unfortunately, while she takes after John in the ability to do the things she wants quite well, she somehow also got my gene for being incredibly accident prone. How one child could possess both traits, I'll never understand. She's constantly covered with bumps and bruises, but it's from her neverending sense of adventure and desire to try new things. She'll fall or tumble or flip but she scrambles right back up and keeps going, laughing all the way.
Gem's still more physically advance than verbally, but she's working hard at it every day. She'll say her little baby words and have such a look of concentration that I know she thinks she's saying something. Or trying. The other morning--it was the first day John and I had the opportunity to sleep in (past 6, at least) in weeks and we just weren't functioning as early as she would've liked us to have been. Anyway, she was rolling around in the bed with us and I set her on the floor and told her to go get a book, hoping that would distract her for a few minutes. (When her bookshelves catch her eye, she'll spend a good 15 minutes pulling them all out and looking at them.) Well, she toddled off into her room (connected to ours, she was safe!) and a minute later she's smacking me with a little Dr. Seuss, saying "Buh, mama! Buh!" I, of course, was so excited that I didn't care about sleeping anymore. She's been telling the dogs "No, no, no!" for a while, but just this morning they were barking and she stopped playing, marched over to the gate, looked at them with a mean face and yelled "Shush!" It was the cutest thing.
She's also doing a lot more imitating/learning. I put my socks on the bed today and as I put one on, she put the other on her foot. She helps me when I dress her... She'll hold one little leg out and then the other. She can drink out of a big kid cup pretty well, but still uses sippies most of the time. She's learned to flush the toilet, which can be kind of annoying.
August starts in two days which means it won't be much longer till we get a yes or no from the two apprenticeships for which John applied. I can't believe the time's finally here and I'm starting to get more and more nervous to hear the answers. We've been working really hard this summer though on acceptance and faith. Before, we would have been severely depressed and angry if neither of them worked out and it most likely would've have a big impact on our marriage. We, of course, hope that he gets offered at least one of them and are very optimistic. That said, though, we know God will take us down whatever path we're supposed to be on, steamfitters or not. If, for some reason, he's denied from both, we'll be sad but we'll keep pushing onward and eventually He'll reveal to us whatever window is out there.
We're also trying to apply that mentality to our next pregnancy, as well. We both desperately want to have another baby, have for a while. We said we'd start trying in August and were really tempted to just go for it this month. We've been trying really hard to discern our own desires from what we feel God is telling us to do, though. When I say we need to wait until we find out if he got the job, John will argue that having a baby would show faith that God will open the door and that we'll be okay. I'll counter that maybe it's a big lesson in teaching me patience, which is a virtue I lack. I don't know. We're praying and listening and, for now, waiting. When we talked about trying back in June, I said that I felt like we were supposed to wait, but not long. A few months maybe. I think we should have the rest of our lives ironed out in the next month or two and then it'll be time. We'll see.
Should we decide to go ahead with another baby while we still live here, we'll be putting some walls up upstairs. Gem and another can definitely share the nursery, it's plenty big enough. Besides, we like the idea of them being close when they're little. We'd want to close the wall off between our rooms, though. Not only for noise control (when the baby would be in with us and up all night), but also simply because the added wall space would come in extremely handy when it's time to put more furniture in there. Then we'd put up a dividing wall in our room and make the living space bigger and close our bedroom part off. We don't want to put a lot of money into this place, but we're trying to last here as long as we can so that when we do go, it'll be with a lot more resources to do what we want without taking on a lot of debt.
Speaking of which, John working this second job has been a Godsend when combined with our new attitudes and outlook on our financial life. We are chipping away at what we do owe people and can see the light at the end of the (very, very long) tunnel! Our credit cards are almost completely paid off and will not be used anymore, except for emergencies. (Though as soon as we get out from under this, we'll be saving up a big emergency fund so that cash will be available in those circumstances in the future.) We only owe his lawyer $250 more and my previous medical bills are down to less than $500! Once we take care of all that, we're going to start putting everything we can into paying off my car and then roll all of that into paying off his student loans. After that, we can officially say we're debt free. We're so excited about life now that we have a plan and motivation. We don't feel the despair or frustration we used to.
Also! We sent in the last ever probation payment a few days ago! John's probation is up in less than a month and on August 18th he has a hearing to wipe his record clean. Talk about a fresh start.
Oh, ha. (Didn't I say I didn't have much to say?) John got his Trooper! After weeks (maybe months) of search ads and having things fall through, he spotted a Craigslist ad minutes after it was posted for a 1991 Isuzu Trooper (pretty much exactly what he'd been looking for) in great shape with low mileage for $700! In Anne Arundel Co. We went to see it the next day and John ended up buying it. It had sat in the guy's yard for like a year because he had a big problem getting the title from the previous owner (in Montana, so no rust!). It turned out that the fuel pump was busted, so he knocked $100 off. It's an easy fix. The interior is perfect, we spent an afternoon having fun cleaning every little nook and cranny and it looks new. Well, except for the fact that it's old. The only other thing it needed is a paint job, which John had planned to do anyway because he had a specific color in mind anyway. He's going to do that soon and get it running and then over time restore everything. I'm happy he's happy and that he has a little project.
Well, I guess I'll stop now. Gem's waking up and I'm sure is starving. It's an hour past lunch. Back soon with good news, hopefully!
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