Monday, April 27, 2009
Broken Computer
I have belly shots ready and set to be uploaded, but wouldn't you know it. . . . we have a virus on our brand new computer. So as soon as we (really Chris) gets that fixed, I will post those belly shots. I promise, and I'll get back to the Super Stomach Saturdays soon.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
One of my favorite sentiments
When you come across something truly meaningful, you have to take the time to analyze it and strip it down to rawest of feelings and then put those feelings back into your heart. I saw this online today and it struck me. I stripped it down to it's very core and at mine- I can't wait to see my beautiful baby- the one who has been kicking me, punching me and who, in time, will be lecturing me. Less than 15 weeks to go until the sentiment below will be burned and etched into my heart forever.
"When it is time for your very first snuggle with your very own baby-savor the moment. It's one of the most magical you'll ever know and once it passes, it's gone, never to be duplicated. You may be weary and shaking or wired and floating as you gaze for the first time into the eyes of this tiny stranger whose heart has been beating in concert with your own for the past nine months. Your baby knows you, your voice, your smell, and wants nothing more than to be cradled close in your arms, held snugly to your breast. Lying with your newborn, there is no pressure to perform, no words to be said, no expectations to be fulfilled. For this little while, this too-brief moment, you can finally rest and allow yourself to simply be. The person you were, the woman who didn't know her own strength and doubted her capacity for love is slipping away now, though it may be a while before you truly believe that she's gone. Try to catch her eye as she leaves, and thank her for taking you this far. Everything you'd dreamed and all that you feared is behind you--and in front of you. You're a mommy for real now. You're a warrior. And this is what it means to be reborn."-Sheri Lynch (Hello, My Name Is Mommy)
It really doesn't get any better than this.
"When it is time for your very first snuggle with your very own baby-savor the moment. It's one of the most magical you'll ever know and once it passes, it's gone, never to be duplicated. You may be weary and shaking or wired and floating as you gaze for the first time into the eyes of this tiny stranger whose heart has been beating in concert with your own for the past nine months. Your baby knows you, your voice, your smell, and wants nothing more than to be cradled close in your arms, held snugly to your breast. Lying with your newborn, there is no pressure to perform, no words to be said, no expectations to be fulfilled. For this little while, this too-brief moment, you can finally rest and allow yourself to simply be. The person you were, the woman who didn't know her own strength and doubted her capacity for love is slipping away now, though it may be a while before you truly believe that she's gone. Try to catch her eye as she leaves, and thank her for taking you this far. Everything you'd dreamed and all that you feared is behind you--and in front of you. You're a mommy for real now. You're a warrior. And this is what it means to be reborn."-Sheri Lynch (Hello, My Name Is Mommy)
It really doesn't get any better than this.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Ummm, where did my feet go?
Have you seen them? I have looked all around for them and I can't find them. Seriously, I was getting ready to go out on Saturday, putting on my makeup, and looked down to see how bad of shape my tooties were in (Chris and I were going to the Melting Pot for our delayed anniversary dinner, and I wanted to be sure to have pretty feet) and my feet were nowhere to be found. When did I lose my feet? Where ever could they be?
As if that wasn't enough (losing sight of one's feet can be an extremely traumatic feeling) painting them (after I found them -that is-) proved to be even more difficult. You see, I can't just bend over anymore to paint them- I painfully realized that AFTER THE FACT. Instead, I had to sit down on the floor, twist myself into a pretzel, stick my leg out to the side, just to get sight of my feet and what transpired after that- the people in the nail industry would be HORRIFIED to learn.
I tried to paint my toenails, I truly did. I had this beautiful pink color (since I was wearing a pink dress) to put on my tootsies (OPI- It's all Greek to me- I highly recommend it) all ready to go. I was ready to paint my toenails, but it wasn't just the nail that got the paint, but really more of the whole toe. It looked like I asked a preschooler to paint my toenails. In fact, I think the preschooler might have done a better job staying in the lines. I had pink nail polish from one end of my feet to the other. I had it on top of my feet, on the bottom of my feet (how I managed that, I'll never know) and on the sides of my toes. If you would have looked down at my feet, it would have looked like I had GIGANTIC toes because of the polish on the sides of my toes. It was even so bad that at one point, I just had to laugh. Because I knew that no matter how bad they looked, no matter how much I painted my toes, I was going out looking exactly like that. I couldn't twist myself anymore to get the paint off of my toes, and frankly that was just too much effort.
I think the moral of this story, is why do your toenails yourself? I mean really- it's quite easier to put one foot in front of the other and walk or drive yourself to the local nail salon and let someone else paint your toenails. I know for a fact, my toes would have looked much better if I had, they don't have to contort their bodies to reach your toes. And I would have probably saved half of my bottle of paint. As it is, I have cute little pink paint splatters in my bedroom, bathroom and everywhere else I trod that night. It's even in my shoes- oops, guess I put on my shoes too early.
So to add to the pregnancy related symptoms- put me squarely in the I can't see my feet column. While my belly is getting bigger and making it harder for everyday functions, I can't wait to meet our precious Muppet. It really doesn't get any better than that.
As if that wasn't enough (losing sight of one's feet can be an extremely traumatic feeling) painting them (after I found them -that is-) proved to be even more difficult. You see, I can't just bend over anymore to paint them- I painfully realized that AFTER THE FACT. Instead, I had to sit down on the floor, twist myself into a pretzel, stick my leg out to the side, just to get sight of my feet and what transpired after that- the people in the nail industry would be HORRIFIED to learn.
I tried to paint my toenails, I truly did. I had this beautiful pink color (since I was wearing a pink dress) to put on my tootsies (OPI- It's all Greek to me- I highly recommend it) all ready to go. I was ready to paint my toenails, but it wasn't just the nail that got the paint, but really more of the whole toe. It looked like I asked a preschooler to paint my toenails. In fact, I think the preschooler might have done a better job staying in the lines. I had pink nail polish from one end of my feet to the other. I had it on top of my feet, on the bottom of my feet (how I managed that, I'll never know) and on the sides of my toes. If you would have looked down at my feet, it would have looked like I had GIGANTIC toes because of the polish on the sides of my toes. It was even so bad that at one point, I just had to laugh. Because I knew that no matter how bad they looked, no matter how much I painted my toes, I was going out looking exactly like that. I couldn't twist myself anymore to get the paint off of my toes, and frankly that was just too much effort.
I think the moral of this story, is why do your toenails yourself? I mean really- it's quite easier to put one foot in front of the other and walk or drive yourself to the local nail salon and let someone else paint your toenails. I know for a fact, my toes would have looked much better if I had, they don't have to contort their bodies to reach your toes. And I would have probably saved half of my bottle of paint. As it is, I have cute little pink paint splatters in my bedroom, bathroom and everywhere else I trod that night. It's even in my shoes- oops, guess I put on my shoes too early.
So to add to the pregnancy related symptoms- put me squarely in the I can't see my feet column. While my belly is getting bigger and making it harder for everyday functions, I can't wait to meet our precious Muppet. It really doesn't get any better than that.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Life happens
First of all, I'd like to apologize for not writing sooner. I had a big project at work which had to be turned in by this past Friday. Now that it's over, I can finally breathe and take a few minutes to chat.
It's really funny how life just happens, how your choices and past experiences shape who you are today and how you presently live your life. With this pregnancy, I have had several "milestones" that I reach where I become more and more comfortable that this is the child God has intended for Chris and I to raise, love and cherish. Those "milestones" come infrequently but are so important to look forward to, to strive for. I have already reached several of these "milestones," for example, when I went for my very first ultrasound and saw the heartbeat, or when I went for a Dr. appointment and heard the heartbeat on the Doppler, and when you go in for your anatomy scan and see that precious baby growing right on schedule. And now I have another one coming up. Week 24, which will happen on Saturday, will be what those in the miscarriage and loss community affectionately call V-Day. This is when a child who is born preterm, at or after 24 weeks, has the potential to survive outside the womb. If a baby is born any earlier, the chance of survival is almost nil.
So all of us in the loss community strive for this day and celebrate it. We celebrate that we have made it this far. We celebrate our desires to have a healthy, full term babies, but know if the unthinkable happens, we have reached this "milestone" and this baby has at least a fighting chance for survival.
It's funny to look back and realize how past experiences have shaped your life. Everyone has friends and family whose first, or any pregnancy for that matter, resulted in a beautiful, healthy baby. Their "normal" is- I get pregnant, I have a baby. But unfortunately, this is not my "normal." My normal, is I get pregnant and worry that this baby isn't going to stick around- that something is wrong. My normal is holding my breath every time I go to the Dr and begin to freak out a little if it takes even the smallest amount of time to find Muppet's heartbeat, or analyzing every little cramp or twinge. My normal is to worry, incessantly. My normal is looking forward to those "milestones" and praying to God that I can reach them. My normal is knowing that just because you are pregnant does not necessarily guarantee that you will have a baby 40 weeks later.
There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about my first pregnancy and wonder about my baby. I consider myself a mother of not just Muppet but to her brother or sister who isn't with us now. I have one angel baby and one currently kicking in my tummy. Perhaps this is coming on the heels of total realization that I have surpassed my original due date. I told Chris this weekend that if we had not had a miscarriage that baby would be here now. None of this is to say that I'm not excited about Muppet and her impending arrival, because Chris and I are beyond thrilled and blessed that she is coming, but there will always be a part of me who will wonder, what our first baby would have done with his/her life. Would he or she been the President of the United States or discovered the cure for Cancer, been a missionary, a doctor, lawyer or in the entertainment business? Would it have been a he or a she? All of these questions and answers, and the subsequent loss and pain, play a significant role in my every day life. . . what MY normal is.
Everyone has a normal, mine just happens to be a different shade of normal. I wonder if my normal will get any easier with subsequent pregnancies? I wonder what my normal will look like after Muppet gets here safe and sound? Since I have been able to feel Muppet kick on a daily basis, it gets a little easier to take a deep breath and know that she is okay. But those in the loss community always have a different color of normal. Life will never be the same for me as it is to those who have never experienced a loss.
But to be thankful for how Muppet is progressing now and to be blessed by God by giving her to us to raise, well it just doesn't get any better than that.
It's really funny how life just happens, how your choices and past experiences shape who you are today and how you presently live your life. With this pregnancy, I have had several "milestones" that I reach where I become more and more comfortable that this is the child God has intended for Chris and I to raise, love and cherish. Those "milestones" come infrequently but are so important to look forward to, to strive for. I have already reached several of these "milestones," for example, when I went for my very first ultrasound and saw the heartbeat, or when I went for a Dr. appointment and heard the heartbeat on the Doppler, and when you go in for your anatomy scan and see that precious baby growing right on schedule. And now I have another one coming up. Week 24, which will happen on Saturday, will be what those in the miscarriage and loss community affectionately call V-Day. This is when a child who is born preterm, at or after 24 weeks, has the potential to survive outside the womb. If a baby is born any earlier, the chance of survival is almost nil.
So all of us in the loss community strive for this day and celebrate it. We celebrate that we have made it this far. We celebrate our desires to have a healthy, full term babies, but know if the unthinkable happens, we have reached this "milestone" and this baby has at least a fighting chance for survival.
It's funny to look back and realize how past experiences have shaped your life. Everyone has friends and family whose first, or any pregnancy for that matter, resulted in a beautiful, healthy baby. Their "normal" is- I get pregnant, I have a baby. But unfortunately, this is not my "normal." My normal, is I get pregnant and worry that this baby isn't going to stick around- that something is wrong. My normal is holding my breath every time I go to the Dr and begin to freak out a little if it takes even the smallest amount of time to find Muppet's heartbeat, or analyzing every little cramp or twinge. My normal is to worry, incessantly. My normal is looking forward to those "milestones" and praying to God that I can reach them. My normal is knowing that just because you are pregnant does not necessarily guarantee that you will have a baby 40 weeks later.
There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about my first pregnancy and wonder about my baby. I consider myself a mother of not just Muppet but to her brother or sister who isn't with us now. I have one angel baby and one currently kicking in my tummy. Perhaps this is coming on the heels of total realization that I have surpassed my original due date. I told Chris this weekend that if we had not had a miscarriage that baby would be here now. None of this is to say that I'm not excited about Muppet and her impending arrival, because Chris and I are beyond thrilled and blessed that she is coming, but there will always be a part of me who will wonder, what our first baby would have done with his/her life. Would he or she been the President of the United States or discovered the cure for Cancer, been a missionary, a doctor, lawyer or in the entertainment business? Would it have been a he or a she? All of these questions and answers, and the subsequent loss and pain, play a significant role in my every day life. . . what MY normal is.
Everyone has a normal, mine just happens to be a different shade of normal. I wonder if my normal will get any easier with subsequent pregnancies? I wonder what my normal will look like after Muppet gets here safe and sound? Since I have been able to feel Muppet kick on a daily basis, it gets a little easier to take a deep breath and know that she is okay. But those in the loss community always have a different color of normal. Life will never be the same for me as it is to those who have never experienced a loss.
But to be thankful for how Muppet is progressing now and to be blessed by God by giving her to us to raise, well it just doesn't get any better than that.
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