It was one of those mornings...

...that reminds you why you married your husband. And chose to procreate with him. Twice (and maybe, someday, thrice).

We woke this morning to the household's smallest member tossing her toys from her crib. This is what she does when she wakes up and wants us to as well. Nevermind that it was 6:45 and I'd gone to bed at 1:30 after some fun impromptu wedding planning and, more importantly, scheming to prime the inlaws to agree to impromptu wedding planning, with my brother in law and his fiancee. Nevermind that it was bordering on freezing in our house, and it was almost still dark out. She was awake, and ready for us to be as well. So, we hopped out of bed, full of life, and ran to greet her.

Ok, no, we did not. Rather, I held so still I was almost comotose, in hopes my husband would think I was still asleep and would decide to go get her up. But we must have been fated to be together, because my husband did the same thing. Eventually, I opted for a dramatic roll over and "Urrrrrgh.", grumbling sleepily about how my belly was hurting (semi-truth). And my husband responded by throwing the blanket over his head and burrowing into the pillow pile, reminding me he'd gotten her up on Saturday. Rather than being defeated so easily, I said, "But I'm preeeeeeeegnant!". Yup, a finer moment for me for sure.

He gave in, by inches, and retrieved her from her crib, bringing her and depositing her on the bed on top of said hurting belly. And she spent the next 12 minutes babbling and circling the room, climbing on the bed and off, hugging Ruby repeatedly, throwing empty waterbottles, and trying to steal my chapstick from my nightstand. The final straw that forced me out of my blankie cacoon was when she saw the picture of Darrick from our wedding, sitting on the nightstand in a silver frame. Excited, she shrieked, "DADA!", picked the picture up, and hurled it at my ribcage.

Annnnnd...I'm awake.

I threw on a sweatshirt and re-rolled the toilet paper roll Luca had stretched from the bathroom into the hall and to New Mexico, then lifted her in her fuzzy jammies and took her downstairs. I was planning on being merciful and letting Darrick sleep in, but Luca had other plans and promptly climbed back up the stairs and started to harass him. I can only hope a 5x7 of me in a white gown and veil was not his wake-up call.

I threw open the blinds and noticed that the day was overcast, and my mood improved. I know, I know, people from Seattle to Boston to London are shaking their heads (or, would be if they read this), but an overcast fall day was just what I needed. I lit my fall candle, put Lu in a clean diaper and gave her some water, and set about making breakfast. Darrick came down, all cute in his shorts and sweatshirt and fuzzy face, and turned the radio onto Sunday Morning Service (live and acoustic music...we listen to it every Sunday). Twenty minutes later, we were dining on omelettes and drinking hot coffee, watching Luca peel the sharp cheddar off the egg, putting the egg in a pile to the side, and asking for more cheese.

As soon as we were done with breakfast, I cleaned up while Luca and Darrick went outside to check out the weather. I snuck a peek out the window to see them looking at our baby Ash tree and whispering. Her little arm was tucked around his, her hand hidden between his body and his bicep for warmth, and he leaned in and kissed her blonde hair, and I melted into the Earth. Watching them together, and seeing Luca run around and put gravel in a bucket and then chase down the football and squeal with delight when Ruby went outside was heaven.





I can forget, sometimes, how lucky we are to have this life, how lucky I am to have these people. But this day, this overcast fall morning full of warm coffee and hugs and baby kisses and green grass and gravel and baby trees growing strong and backyard swings brought me right back to center. I love that sweet husband of mine, and that sweet baby Luca. And I cannot wait to fall in love again, with not only the next baby growing in my belly, but with my husband, who never fails to amaze me with how, well, amazing he is.

I thrive in randomness.

1. A friend shared with me that you can now have your name added to a list so you don't receive the phone book anymore. The yellow pages, more specifically. And while I'm all over this idea, my sweet hubby has a different idea. I do believe I married the only man who still thinks he cannot LIVE without the phone book...in hard copy...white and yellow...this year's and last.

A sample coversation from a time long ago, whence I committed the grave sin of recycling the 47 old books littering the pantry floor and the top of the fridge:

Him: "There were NOTES on that book. NOTES about a place I liked for their calzones!"
Me: "Uh, if you liked it THAT much, you'd remember, right?"
H: "YOu know my memory sucks. You shouldn't have thrown them out!"
M: "There's always the internet...."
H: (cradling phone book to his bosom) "It's not the same. Please don't EVER throw away the phone book again."


2. This baby enjoys punching and kicking my sides. Luca loved to dig her elbows into my hipbones, but this little sprout is more into jabbing my abdomen. And heel-kicking my cervix. Go ahead, absorb that one for a moment. Moms know. Non-moms are adding this to the 'List of Reasons to Keep Taking My Birth Control', along with hemmies, stretch marks, darkened nipples that chap when you breastfeed, and stitches in the netherlands.

3. Current favorite snack: those sickly sweet pink and white circus animal cookies (with the multi-colored sprinkles) dipped in whipped cream cheese frosting.

4. My favorite snack when pregnant with Luca: Snickers Blizzard. Large. Extra Snickers, please. I've had friends who were all, "I have NO IDEA how I gained XX when I was pregnant!". I am not one of those people. I not only have an idea, I know precisely. Snickers. Blizzards.

5. Everyone thinks this baby is a boy. Well, there are like 4 people in my life who think girl, and apparently they all answered my blog poll. But the other 4 who answered, along with the balance of people in my life, seem to think it's a boy. I confess: I am still scared of having a boy. Mostly of weenie-related issues.

6. I've alerady started listening to Christmas music. I figure since we don't get a definitive season change here, I can decide when it's time. And the time is now. Thank goodness for Pandora radio (google it) which allows me to listen to anything, anytime.

7. It's officially footed jammie season in our house again. Now that the temperatures in AZ have dropped below 90 during the day (For real? For real.) it's cold at night. For some reason, Luca's room is always the coldest, so as soon as the temps dropped we knew it was time to dress her in something warmer than short sleeves and thin pants. I LOVE footed jammie season...the soft sweetness of the jammies, all squisjy and snuggly. I love how Luca looks like a Christmas card picture in her fuzzy footies, and how the slight static they create causes her fine hair to stand up on end around the collar. I love how they keep her toasty, so that when she wakes up at night and fusses, and I go in to check on her (because, yes, I AM that mom who goes in every time), her skin is pink and flushed, and she smells like sweet warm honey baby. I love that her little hands can disappear into the sleeves, and how she rubs the back of my arm with those disappearing fingers when she's sleepy and the soft plushness of the jammies tickles. I love when she wakes in the morning, happy (never grouchy...always happy) and I go to get her, and she laughs and smiles and holds out those little hidden hands and says "Up!" and she's still warm from sleep. I love footed jammie season.

Hope.

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction....The chain reaction of evil--hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars--must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation."

Martin Luther King, Jr., Strength To Love, 1963.

I have no words to express how happy I am right now, and how monumental this moment is for our nation. Let hope win. Let love drive out hate. Let changes be real.

Another ultrasound

Back when we had our first trimester screening, there were two issues 'of possible concern' that were brought up. The first I mentioned before, which was the ultrasound specialist suggesting we get baby's heart checked around 22 weeks. The reason for this was that sometimes a borderline NT measurement like we had combined with ok blood work can be an indicator of a possible rare heart problem. The other issue was that my placenta was very low lying, so much so that it was covering my cervix, which can sometimes result in a condition called placenta previa. Basically, this means the placenta attaches to the uterus in a spot where it ends up covering the cervix, so when mom starts to dilate there can be a lot of complications. The placenta can exit first, causing hommoraging from excessive bleeding as well as the potential for the placenta to be expelled before the baby, which can be very dangerous. The other less risky complication if the placenta does not block the opening but stay low-lying is that it wouldn't come out on its own after the baby is born. This last scenario is something my MW can deal with by giving me a shot of pitocin to help the uterus contract down after the baby is born. The other scenarios would mean no homebirth for me.

So, after discussing with my MW, I was given a referral to my old OB's office (lucky me, my current MW knows my old MW and OB, and works with them as back-up providers for testing and emergency transfers) for an ultrasound. I called yesterday, and they were able to get me in this afternoon. I was thrilled I wouldn't have to wait, but sad because Darrick wasn't likely to be able to make the 3 pm appointment since he works until almost 3. We talked last night and made a deal: if he made the appointment I'd leave it up to him to ask the sex if he wanted to know, and if he didn't make it, we were keeping it a surprise.

Well.....it's.......a....................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................surprise!

Yup, Darrick was not able to make it on time, so I took Luca (who stayed home sick with me today after she spent most of last night puking) with me and we asked to have it kept a secret. But we did get all kinds of information about baby. Most important, baby's heart looks perfectly normal, and my placenta is nowhere near my cervix any longer, so we're in the clear with our two major concerns. Every other vital organ is normal, and all baby's important bone measurements (head, femur, etc) are on target. He/she is also exactly the size he/she should be for my dates. All in all, great news all around!!!

And, that's it for the 'will we or won't we' debate. No more ultrasounds for us unless there is some medical indication we need one later on, which I don't see happening. So we'll find out if we're having a boy or a girl when baby is born!

Everything a Big Bad Wolf Could Want.

Please tell me someone outside my immediate family is familiar with the song by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs (of Wooly Bully fame)? No. Well, I invite you to listen to it here, and I promise to post an even more awesome cover version later, when I won't get yelled at by the hubs for 'uploading crap while I'm playing XBox'.

Anyhow, for weeks we have been singing this song because, well, it amped us up for Luca's big debut on Halloween as Little Red Riding Hood. And what a debut it was. The first time we put the cape on her, she moonwalked, all like "Take THAT Michael Jackson! I'm Little Red Riding HOOOD!" I know no one moonwalks anymore, but I'm fairly well convinced that if we all looked as freaking adorable as she did whilst moonwalking, it might just make a comeback.

What you should know about her costume is that, if your kids' Gramma was as cool as Luca's Gramma, your kids may have had a custom made LRRH costume for their first ever trick or treating adventure as well. I pause for a moment when I type out effusive compliments for my mom, since me of 10 or 15 years ago would have shuddered with revulsion to think one day I'd think my mom rocked so much. But the fact is, when we get older we realize our moms aren't so bad after all, and especially when they have wicked awesome sewing skills and love to adorn their one and only granddaughter with niceti1322223ies (ignore the spelling of that...Luca swooped in for a moment to contribute her own commentary to the topic at hand) and cuteness for all the oldies of the neighborhood to 'OOH' and 'Awwww!' over. And Ooh and Aww they did...with one neighbor on the cell phone speaking En Espanol, and all I heard was her mentioning the costume, and while I cannot be certain she was paying compliments to my child, I will run with that assumption.

So, without further ado, I present to you OUR Little Red Riding Hood. I apologize that the quality of the pictures can't even begin to rival the awesomeness of the costume, but the one good thing about a running toddler smearing her way across every frame is that it may have finally convinced my husband we need a SLR. Sweet.

It's probably time for an update.

I'm halfway through this pregnancy, as of this past Sunday. I hit 20 weeks, my belly is looking more pregnant than fat (the fat is there, I just no longer feel obliged to suck it in since people can now pretty much tell I'm pregnant and assume my belly is all because of that), and the baby is starting to become a uterine acrobat. Fabulousness.

I was asked to present a session at a conference today, and it just so happened said conference was put on by the agency I used to work for. This means I ran into a lot of people who I used to work with (Board members, staffs of other agencies in that field, etc.), and for the first time this pregnancy the pointed glances at my belly were quite obvious. Most of the day, it went something like this:

Other Person: "Hey! Good to see you! How are :::looks at my belly::: things?"
Me: "Great! I'm just staying busy with work and family! How are you doing?"
OP: "Great, busy as well. :::Furtive glance at my midsection, questioning whether I could be pregnant or just helped myself to too many buffet trips over lunch::: How's your daughter?"
Me: "She's wonderful! :::Letting them off the hook and rubbing belly::: We're expecting our second baby next March."
OP: "Oh, you are?!?! :::clearly relieved they didn't have to ask, and seemingly presuming I didn't notice the belly stares::: Congratulations!"

Funny enough, EVERY ONE of these conversations involved the OP asking me about Luca, presumably to create a segway for me to either tell them I am pregnant again OR explain how, when she was born her twin was left in my uterus, and that's why my gut looks like an old man's on a beer binge.

There was one lovely woman who, when I offered up that I am expecting baby #2 in March, looked at me in shock and exclaimed, "My daughter is due in March! And she is easily twice your size! You look fabulous!" LOVE LOVE LOVE that woman. Want to fold her up and put her in my pocket, and take her everywhere with me so that when I fell shlumpy or fat or lazy I can unfold her and she can bestow me with praise and compliments.

In other baby news, I've been doing a ton of reading to prep myself for the labor and delivery this time around. Among the books I've read (and there have been many, many books), I'm loving these:

The Birth Partner (by Penny Simkin, who is like the Queen Goddess Supreme of all things pregnancy and birth): This is a fabulous book, which was actually suggested to me as part of my Doula training. It's intended for birth partners (duh), whether they be the baby's dad, a family member, a friend, or a professional such as a doula. Much of the book focuses on natural birth, and each section goes into great detail about what the laboring woman is experiencing, what the birth partner might feel, how they can help mom, and what the medical professionals may be doing. I think it's a great book for partners to read, but it also has been helpful to me because it gives me a better idea of what to expect, what 'signposts' of labor to look for, and comfort measures to try. I really recommend this book!

Birthing From Within (Pam England): A great book about ways to mentally and emotionally prepare for birth. A little crunchy and 'soft', even for my hippie liberal bleeding heart self, but an inspiring and centering read none the less.

Gentle Birth Choices (Barbara Harper): A fabulous book covering a variety of 'gentle' idea for labor and delivery. Covers the basics (lighting, people present, comfort measures), as well as in depth information on things like the history of water birth and data on medical interventions and their safety and risk factors.

In May's Guide to Childbirth (Ina May Gaskin. If Simkin is the Queen Goddess Supreme, Ina May is the Ruler and Protector of All that is Birth): This book is like THE Bible of natural birth. Gaskin is credited with starting The Farm, a commune in Tennessee where natural birth reigns. Her knowledge and experience provide the structure of this book, and it's full of stories and anecdotes. In fact, the first half of the book is entirely birth stories from women who gave birth at The Farm. It's my #1 suggestion for women wanting a med-free delivery. It restored my faith in a woman's body to DO labor without having to be helped or medicated or rushed along.

I have an appointment with my midwife this weekend, and I'm hoping to begin talking to her about prepping for birth. I've been trying to stretch regularly and get out walking as much as I can, since I know those things are important in pregnancy. But I'm hoping she has some other ideas for me of things I can do to prep.

One last weird note: I've noticed that my skin is reacting strangely to metals this pregnancy. I've worn my engagement ring for 7 years, my wedding band for nearly 5, and my earrings for a year now...all without a single problem. However, a few weeks ago I noticed the skin below my rings turning red, itching, and peeling. And just this past weekend, my earlobes started to itch and get red. It's leading me to believe this baby is causing my skin's pH to change....so add that to the list of reasons I suspect we're having a boy.One 20-ish weeks until we know for sure!