Farewell 2007

What a crazy year this was. I'm not usually one to get all retrospective at New Year's, I'm more of a "look forward" kind of gal, but I am throwing caution to the wind this year.

Jack turned 1, I lost my job, I got pregnant, we started SnarkyBabies, Josh started a new project in Michigan, I got morning sickness, I stayed sick for the like the whole entire summer, I had a preventative cerclage placed, Josh was off the project in Michigan, we went to France, I was in the hospital with the flu and then it was the holidays. Look at that, 2007 summed up in less than 75 words.

As we get ready to usher in 2008, however, I find myself pretty excited. When people ask if I am excited about the baby coming, I usually reply, "No. I am terrified."

But truth be told, there is a little glimmer of excitement in there too. I can't wait to push her out and have her here and see Jack's face when he meets her. I think things will be all right, after a little adjustment period, and I am confident I will be able to handle motherhood squared.

So goodbye 2007, hello 2008!

Merry Christmas and all that jazz

I won't go into the ridiculousness that is our holiday travel schedule yet again, but suffice it to say we spent nine hours driving hither and yon over two days. But it was a very nice holiday and Santa was very good to everyone.

Jack got a ridiculous amount of toys and clothes, Girl Baby hauled home probably more loot than any of us and she's still in utero, Josh got his Guitar Hero 3 game that I spent 10 days stalking the sales guy at Best Boy for and I got some new shiny diamond earrings that are so big I might tip a little bit when I walk. We are all spoiled brats.


Mom, I know it's Christmas but I haven't even had my coffee yet.

We're still recovering from all the holiday hoopla and believe it or not, I got sick again! I know! I never got better from the initial cold I have now had for eight consecutive weeks, so my OB took pity on me and my hacking and sniffling today and gave me an antibiotic. I swear I took the first dose this afternoon and I am feeling better already.

In other OB/GYN news, I had my 35-week appointment today and it was an interesting one all right. I gained 5 pounds (WTF? In two and a half weeks? Am I mainlining ice cream? Oh wait, I actually am. Shit. Moving on.) and my blood pressure is just sliiightly high for me. Not high for a regular person at all, but I hope it was just because I was kept waiting for 90 minutes and not because it's deciding to whack out.

While there, I asked my doctor if you always dilate and/or efface sooner or more quickly with second pregnancies. She said yes, or as "always" as anything can be when it comes to pregnancy. So I asked her, "Do you think I am going to make it to the 22nd?" Her answer: "No."

Whaaaat???? No! This can not be! I want to manage my birth. I didn't sign up for any labor!

So looks like our plans might be altered somewhat when it comes to the two weeks between the cerclage removal and what I am now referring lovingly to as my "hypothetical" induction date. Josh will have to work from home and I would imagine I will walk around feeling like a ticking time bomb who could leak fluid in a shocking gush at any time.

I know you are all waiting on pins and needles for those two weeks worth of posts.

Ho ho NO!

We saw Tanta last week (that's Santa to all you non-Jack speakers) and, well, I will just let these pictures speak for themselves.


Daddy, that is so fake. That is not a real tree. I am not an idiot.


Oh boy, this is great! They have singing bears!


Pay no attention to the sign directing children not to sit on the exhibit.


Since when do elves wear sequined hats? I guess since Marshall Fields switched to Macy's. Lame.


Well howdy Santa. I have heard lots about you.


NO! What the hell is this? Get me outta here. I am turning to jelly and slithering out of his arms, that should work.


I'll just be over here, keeping my distance.


Check out this stuffed dog, Santa. I will show it to you.


What the hell is this? I said NO. Get away Mommy. You suck.


I don't want any presents. Leave me alone!

Double your pleasure

The doctor found not a single, but a double ear infection in Jack this morning. You could have knocked me over with that diagnosis. He wasn't pulling on his ears, he wasn't screaming in the middle of the night.

He woke at 8:45 this morning -- a sure tipoff he is ill -- and I am pretty sure it is the sickest I have ever seen this poor little boy. He was lethargic and coughed all night and his nose was running a disgusting amount and he just looked sick. Poor kid was up every hour during the night and I just felt so bad for him.

Thankfully we got in this morning and we were on our merry way with prescriptions for a once-a-day antibiotic and ear drops in no time at all. As an aside, how awesome is a one-dose-per-day medicine? No remembering the doses, no waking a sleeping child, no coercing them to swallow several times per day. I think all medication should henceforth be dispensed in this manner.

Anyway.

Doc says Jack should be back to normal in 48 hours and I am thrilled it's something non-communicable to the pregnant Mommy. Although I am sure I will find a way to catch an ear infection.

Fever update

Here we are in hour 60 of the Great Fever of 2007, and Jack's temperature was a solid 101 degrees before bedtime. That was down from a rousing high of 103.5 this afternoon. During the middle of the night, one of the 25 times he woke up crying, he was so hot to the touch I didn't even take his temperature because I didn't want to know what it was.

So there you have it.

My pediatrician wants to see kids who run a fever of 100.4 or higher for 72 hours, so methinks we'll be in the waiting room tomorrow afternoon. I don't know if there's anything they can do for him, but I really don't want to take a chance either. That's what co-pays are for!

The coughing continues unabated and his nose is running like a faucet and he was crabbier than all get out for most of the day. That's my favorite part. The whining and the shorter-than-normal attention span.

Again, I thank the God of The Sickies that this is happening now and not, oh, say, Monday afternoon. But could we please just have one week -- one measly week -- where someone in this three-person family is not sick? Apparently, too much to ask.

High five

Five weeks from today, I will have my second child.

OK, in theory it could be sooner. But we know it won't be later than that, as it is my scheduled induction date. But let's pretend I am going to make it to my induction, just for shits and giggles.

I am so not into the idea of going into labor and having to suffer through contractions for hours on end at home. No thank you, next please. I want my epidural and I want it early. No labor pains for this wuss.

We're mostly ready, in the physical sense. We have a bassinette, we have a closet full of pink clothes, we have Miracle Blankets, we have my boobs. Really, what more could we need?

But in the emotional sense, I am still freaking the shit out. I waffle between thinking I can do it all and thinking I am going to be a huge failure at mothering two children. Of course, no one else in the history of the earth has ever parented two children at once. Get over yourself, I can hear you murmuring.

But there is this ... FEAR ... that resides just behind my eyeballs and makes me lie awake at night. How will I ever manage two kids by myself all week? How will I nurse one while chasing another? How will I find time to myself when they're on opposite sleep schedules? When will I sleep? And for God's sake, how will I ever carry the new baby and keep Jack from running away from me while balancing my drink?

So I have five more weeks to freak out about these things. I am sure it will work out. Right?

You give me fever

I was going to post about our visit to Santa last Friday or perhaps about being 34 weeks pregnant and hitting a wall and just wanting to sleep all day in one position so I don't have to actually turn over in bed or bend down.

Oh but then Jack came down with a fever and a cough and of course, there's no material like a sick child to just increase that readership.

Yesterday when I left for tea with my friends (I know! Tea! At The Drake, like I am all fancy-pants!) he was napping and fine. When Josh and Jack picked me up from tea, Jack sounded like he might be a little sick, that or he smoked a pack of Marbs and washed it down with some Jim Beam. Hard to tell.

We are visiting in Peoria this week and by the time we got here, it was 9:45 p.m. and my child was still awake. Awake with an odd little cough. Not anything major, but it sounded like what the doctor likes to call a "productive" cough, with a little phlegm in there.

Seriously, if you want to remove this blog from your favorites right now, I would not blame you. Who blogs about phlegm? Not to mention the posts that should be coming right up in the ensuing weeks about mucus plugs and placentas.

This morning, after a brief wakeup around 6 o'ungodlyclock, he slept in until 9:30 a.m.! I would chalk it up to the late bedtime, but I have to attribute it to the sickies now. Because shortly before lunch, I took his temperature and it was up to 100.5 and he seemed not himself.

Of course this did not stop me from taking him out to get new shoes. In my bad-Mommy defense, he has a blister on his big toe and the shoe situation has reached a critical stage. We also stopped at Panera, but he did eat soup, so I am chalking that one up to health benefits.

Before bathtime tonight, he was a whopping 102.5 and we dosed him with the Motrin again and put him to bed with a vaporizer, where he proceded to fall immediately asleep. Again, NOT NORMAL was flashing in neon lights on the door to the bedoom.

So we wait out the sickies and I give a silent thanks for this not being next Monday. Because I hear Santa passes by the chimneys that are marked "quarantine."

Am I in the Mitchell Report?

Today was a big day for sports fans. The Mitchell Report, detailing the supposed use of steroids and other illegal substances by Major League Baseball players, was released and there were some big names in there.

I would just like to point out that my name was missing. And I have indeed been injected with steroids. It was in the hospital in 2005 and I feel it is important to come clean with you all.

I could implicate other of my fellow Cerclage Mommies out there, but I am maintaining a code of silence. Much like the players, I feel it's not cool to rat out my brethren.

So taking responsibility for my own actions, I am admitting right now: I got two shots in the ass in 2005. I don't think it made any difference, although I did see a 5 mph increase in my fastball. At the time, I chalked it up to my increased weight gain from gestating the child.

I refuse to testify before the committee, however.

What's on your iPod

This afternoon, I drove to AND from the grocery store, singing along to Raffi. When I pulled into the driveway, it dawned on me that my child was not in the car and I could have listened to normal music.

Scottie Pippen week

Here we are at 33 weeks pregnant. And I always think of Scottie and his chicken legs when I see the No. 33, so Happy Scottie Pippen Week to everyone!

Yesterday I waited one hour and 45 minutes to see my doctor. It was a new record, even for that notoriously wait-filled office. Oh but it was worth the wait!

I only gained one pound in three weeks, hooray! And I am measuring at 31 weeks instead of 33, hooray again! But I can tell you I am starting to feel every centimeter of this expanding uterus. I am having trouble rolling over in bed easily and can't bend over anymore. Being pregnant in the winter sucks -- how the hell am I supposed to manuever these snow-filled sidewalks in backless New Balance tennis shoes?

But I really feel I should not complain because I am not that big. People tell me all the time I am carrying really small and to tell you the truth, I am happy about it. I don't want to look like a huge cow. How vain am I?

Anyway, we also solved the mystery of the comment from the resident at Labor & Delivery last week, which was, "Well, you are ... (pause) ... closed." To which I said I was nervous she was going to say something about being a fingertip dilated and she said, "Well I can get a fingertip in there." Which was news to this cerclage-sporting girl.

My OB said when they place cerclages, they don't do them so tight that not even air can get in. She said there needs to be a little play to the cervix to allow for the inevitable changes. Too tight and you would rip through the stitch. Sounds good enough to me. So she said that yes she could get a fingertip in, but there was no dilation or anything like that.

After all of that waiting and checking, we set the cerclage removal date for Friday, Jan. 4. I will be roughly 36 weeks 4 days, not that I am counting or anything, and I was pleased to have a date picked out. That gives me 17 days worth of contractions and false labor scares between my cerclage removal and my induction date. Won't that be fun?

And while I don't think I will go into labor immediately following the cerclage removal, there is a slim possibility. So we have to be prepared for a second child to join this family in a mere 24 days.

Wait. What? That's like three weeks from now.

Gone, but not forgotten

It's always nice to be remembered by former co-workers isn't it? You share so many good times and inside jokes and drunken parties, it's nice to look back on those times with nostalgia and fondness.

Remember last year, when I had to fly to New York for business and there was a whole debacle about a co-worker taking my room and I was breastfeeding and there was a fridge in the stolen room and I was totally pissed? You can refresh your memories right here with the Dec. 11, 2006 post.

So apparently, that same co-worker remembered that little mixup with the rooms as well. And then felt the need to be all "haha aren't I clever and cute" about it in an e-mail to several of my former co-workers.

Tsk, tsk. Like I don't know all and see all. I am mother for chrissakes, I have eyes in the back of my head. Ask my kid, I know everything. In fact, here's a copy of the email she sent out -- handy that I have it right here isn't it?

___________________________________
From: Osborne, Natalie
Sent: Friday, December 07, 2007 1:33 PM
To: REDACTED; REDACTED; REDACTED; REDACTED; REDACTED; REDACTED; REDACTED
Subject: RE: MinuteMen Car Service

I’d like a room with a small refrigerator for my breast milk – oh wait Amy’s not here anymore – I mean my vodka.

Thanks,
Natalie

------------------------------------
Natalie Osborne
Marketing Producer
MLB Advanced Media
75 Ninth Ave, 5th Floor
New York, NY, 10011
Phone: 907-223-0858
natalie.osborne@mlb.com
_____________________________________

It's always nice to see other women being so SUPPORTIVE of working mothers isn't it? And I really think it's great when other women are so SUPPORTIVE of breastfeeding.

Perhaps someone needs to send Ms. Osborne some information from La Leche League about the benefits of breastfeeding and the proper milk storage procedures. I don't think there's anything in the literature about storing it with vodka, but I may not have read it closely enough.

Go home

Of course, last night was a non-event at the old Labor & Delivery ward. I got there, got hooked up to a monitor and lookee lookee, contractions!

But my cervix was competent as ever, well as competent as the stitch can make it, and the contractions weren't causing cervical changes. So I was monitored for about three hours and then they deemed me worthy of going home.

Home in a snowstorm. By myself. At 1:30 in the a.m. And yes, I did indeed drive myself to the hospital. I am a big girl, I can do it.

Having a traveling husband kind of sucks the big one. He couldn't come home last night because of the snow, so he wasn't here to begin with. But even if he was, he would have had to stay with Jack, so he would not have come anyway.

The hospital staff probably feels bad for me that I am a single mom, going at it alone.

Anyway. All is well on the cervical front. Contractions slowed down and then stopped and now I just have them when I bend over. You know, to pick up toys or sort laundry. I think there is a message in there somewhere.

I know I promised a court story

But I just don't have the energy today.

I ran errands all morning, then I spent three hours cleaning out a closet in the late afternoon. Yes, that is correct, three.

It was a jumble of our stuff and Jack's stuff and Baby2's stuff. So now that we have a super-duper new closet in Jack's new big boy room, I moved all his stuff in there and cleaned our stuff out and now it's all nice and orderly and clean.

But all this activity also caused contractions. That would be 14 in an hour and now I am on my way to Labor & Delivery. Because I don't spend enough time there.

I shall update tomorrow.