Half-Baked

When I first saw those two pink lines, I wasn't overwhelmed with a feeling of, "This is it, we're having a baby!" I was happy, naturally, and excited, but it was a cautious optimism. When I told Jason, he said something to the effect of it being "the first step," and I knew exactly what he meant. For us, getting pregnant was one little step towards actually having a baby.

I wonder what it would be like to be in ignorant bliss when you find out you're pregnant; to just assume with your whole heart and mind that two pink lines will equal a baby in about nine months. Of course I'll never know, because I've known the heartbreak of loss. I have friends who've experienced heartbreak in ways I hope I can never truly comprehend and come through the other side (with happy, healthy babies now in their arms, or on the way); they've served as such wonderful support throughout this journey, but knowing the tragic things that happened to them, far along in their pregnancies, is sobering to say the least. I take nothing for granted.

As I was journaling in those first few days, three words kept popping up so I made them my mantra... "Be positive, calm, and hopeful." Some days I think I said it a thousand times. My mind would drift and I'd pull it back to where I knew it should be, where and how I should be for both myself and the baby; positive, calm, and hopeful.

Still, as joyful as I was, it felt like I was waiting for things to come crashing down around me (again). I went to the bathroom many more times a day than I needed to, just to check that I wasn't bleeding. Every twinge made me stop in my tracks, waiting to see if it would turn into cramps, as I willed my abdominal muscles to relax and concentrated on providing a safe and welcoming place for our baby to be and grow.

Every day that things stayed the same felt like a tiny step taken.

Because of our history of loss & infertility, I had early ultrasounds. At six weeks we saw that the baby was implanted where it was supposed to be, and I breathed a little sigh of relief. Another step closer.

At seven weeks, we saw a tiny flicker-flicker-flicker and heard the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of a heartbeat. Amazing, and another big step closer.

At nine weeks, the baby was continuing to grow as he/she should and my blood tests were a-okay and I was put on the normal pregnant lady schedule for appointments, as opposed to the "we'd better keep an eye on this one" schedule. One more step.

At thirteen weeks I had my first trimester screening, where they do a more advanced ultrasound to measure certain things and gauge the risk for chromosomal abnormalities. Bebe got rave reviews and was determined very low risk; my blood test came back the following week and moved Bebe's risk down to very, very low risk. Two more steps!

Gradually, I'm feeling more and more like things will actually work out and we'll have a baby in October; it almost feels too good to be true. I'm finding that less and less I'm qualifying things with, "assuming everything continues to go well," and instead I'm just assuming that everything will continue to go well. It's a peaceful feeling.

And now. Now, I'm 20 weeks. Halfway there. The bun in the oven is half-baked. There's still a long way to go (which will fly by), and every once in a while I still need to remind myself to be positive, calm, and hopeful. But 20 weeks feels like a big step closer.

It's definitely a big something, anyway. :)


Does this mean I'm "carrying high"? It certainly doesn't feel like it could get any higher.

Look, I managed to take a full-length photo of myself with my DSLR! (Here's an out-take from this photo session that shows how awful I am at this game. And is kind of hilarious. Maybe just to me.)

I realize that it kind of looks like I'm arching my lower back to push out my butt and belly, but I assure you, that's my actual ass. And belly for that matter.

We have our second trimester screening on June 14th, and I am so excited to see Bebe again on the fancy ultrasound. Hopefully, in addition to being healthy and passing all the tests, so to speak, he or she will feel like sharing and we'll get to find out whether Bebe is a he or a she. I'm excited to share that moment with Jason, to experience the wave of emotions that will come with either answer, and to maybe be surprised by what I/we feel. I'm excited to be able to use a single pronoun when referring to Bebe! There's so much I'm excited for. :)

Thank you for all the support here and on Twitter and Facebook and by e-mail; I can't tell you what it's meant to me. Now, let's have 20 more weeks or so, shall we?

A Different Ending (Part 4)

[This is Part 4 of a series of I'm not sure how many yet. Part 1 can be found here, Part 2 can be found here, and Part 3 can be found here. I fully realize that this is faaaaar more in-depth than most people care about, but I'm having a lot of fun going back over the past year and choosing photos and telling snippets of stories. I'm also realizing that some of these photos I uploaded to the computer and then never even looked at, so this is a good and much-needed chance to catch up and document our 2010. Thanks for bearing with me!]

Continued...

When she got back from Oregon (again), daily life got back to mostly normal (whatever that means). She continued her volunteer position with her sorority alumnae association, keeping track of members and creating a Directory.


She went to the chiropractor every two weeks (because have you seen her spine?).


She went to the Korean Spa once a month or so because she had Groupons for it she loooooooves it and it makes her happy.

It's a naked spa so the only place she could take a photo was in the empty bathroom.

She explored Virginia and went wine tasting.


She kept up on her book club...


... and her other book club.


She happily attended "Wine and Cheese Club" with three great friends

Three of these hands belong to Andrea, Elizabeth, and BJ.

and hung out with friends from the Avon Walk

With Robyn & Lindsay.

and her alumnae association

With HeidiAnne & Cortney.

and her neighborhood.


She started running again, with her dear sweet husband, and they talked and talked

Yes, that is a running skirt.

and fell even more in love and had fun no matter what they were doing, even brushing their teeth.


She was also very busy making jewelry, lots and lots of jewelry, because she was offered the chance to set up a table at a local high-end salon. It happened to be on her birthday.


It was a lot of work to prepare for, and it went okay, but not really well enough to justify sitting at a table for eight hours on her birthday. This made her sad. So her husband took her out for a nice dinner, and just when things were starting to look up for her and her smile was coming back, she somehow managed to bump over an empty glass, and in attempting to catch it she knocked both the glass and a ginormous bottle of Crystal hot sauce onto the tile floor, shattering the glass and the hot sauce.

Everyone looked at her. Everyone. [She doesn't like everyone looking at her.]

So she burst into tears and started laughing and said, "And it's my birthday!"

Nice people came and talked to her and the crying decreased and the laughing increased and she drank dark beer and coffee with Bailey's and ate crème brûlée


and then went into the bar and a couple people bought her shots of chilled Patrón (her first time but not her last) and all was right with the world, for that night.

But the truth was that she wasn't really sad about the eight birthday hours spent sitting at a table, or the broken hot sauce splattered all over the tile, or the people (who turned out to be quite nice, after all) all looking at her.

What she was really sad about was that she was now that number, that number that is in all the books and all the articles and all the everything that had haunted her and served as her goal for so long now.

She was 35. And not pregnant.

So, she took it easy on herself the next day. She did whatever she wanted, and that afternoon what she wanted was to take a 3+ hours long, hot hot hot bath, and text her husband whenever she needed more wine or ice water and he would bring it right up with a smile and a kiss. And that's exactly what happened.


And slowly she convinced herself that whether she had gotten pregnant at 34 years and 9 months or would get pregnant at 35 years and 3 months, it was just numbers. Nothing magically happened to her on that birthday that made her more or less likely to get pregnant than she was the month before or the month after.

She breathed a little easier and her heart felt a little lighter.

The next day, Friday, her husband had off of work, so they went into DC to go to the zoo.


She had a lot of fun, and smiled and laughed a lot.


Then she packed her bags and headed to Orlando! This trip was her birthday present. She knew that she would be sad about her birthday so she booked a trip to see the friend she always has a blast with, who would take her mind off of 35andnotpregnant.

Their time together sometimes often usually always involves drinking

At Lori's "Book Club."

and eating junk food, so they got right on that like they usually do.

She hadn't had a slurpee for about twelve years.

This time, unlike their other visits together, her friend's husband and three boys were home. So in addition to eating and drinking together, they did things like baking cupcakes and volunteering in a third grade classroom to do the Halloween craft. She had forgotten how LOUD third grade is.

These are totally organic.

She even got to work in the concession stand for a football game, while her friend was busy being the Team Mom.


After the game the team went out to eat, and she got fried pickles. She loves fried pickles. And good beer. She loves good beer, too.


Later that night she went out for Girls' Night with her friend's best friends (now her friends, too).

With Lori, Anke, and Allison.

They ate tapas and drank wine and beer


and then went across the street to a dessert place. The other ladies told such funny stories about their lives and kids and husbands


that by the time the plate looked like this


she was completely unaware of her ovaries and any longings they might have.

[Although that might have been the alcohol sugar talking.]

In any event, she got exactly what she came to Orlando for. And she loved her friend for it.


And then she flew home. Again.

To be continued....

A Different Ending (Part 1)

[I wrote this entire post in July of last year but didn't ever publish it because life happened (or, more specifically, a death happened) and then I had even more to catch up on, which will come in later posts. Hopefully soonish.]

Once upon a time there was a girl who blogged.

One day she finished writing a blog post, and it was the longest and most difficult post she'd ever written. Nervous and afraid, she hit "Publish" and was soon overwhelmed with the most amazing support she'd ever, ever known.

And no one ever heard from her again.

That story sucks.

Let's try again...

Once upon a time there was a girl who blogged.

One day she finished writing a blog post, and it was the longest and most difficult post she'd ever written. Nervous and afraid, she hit "Publish" and was soon overwhelmed with the most amazing support she'd ever, ever known.

Five days later, in the midst of processing all these new feelings and figuring out how to respond to all the amazing and personal and supportive comments and e-mails she received, she walked downstairs into the basement to blog and stepped into a puddle of water. In the carpet. [From a broken and flowing and flowing and flowing water heater.]

It could have been a lot worse. It was a really stressful couple of days and the timing was lousy, but could have been a lot worse. But she couldn't dwell on it too long, because she had a lot to do; she was preparing for a trip!

All the stress was forgotten when she and her husband arrived in Puerto Rico and realized that this was the view from their hotel room!


In Puerto Rico they hiked in a rain-forest...


... up a mountain...


... spotted the gorgeous (green!!!) bird that was chirping back and forth overhead...


... and found beauty in ordinary things.


She tried the local cuisine...


... and wondered why in the world she had to wait until age 34 to have spiced meat wrapped in mashed potatoes and then deep fried.


[I mean, really. There might not be a more perfect food for her.]

She explored Old San Juan...


... until she felt broken down and battered by the hot hot sun...


... and was forced to stop for some refreshment. It was the right thing to do.


She went night kayaking to a bio-luminescent bay...


... and took photos upside-down over her head...


... and handed a stranger her camera to take a photo...


... [right before she hurried back to the hotel to take a shower because she was secretly kind of freaked out about the microscopic bio-luminescent creatures that were splashed all over her].

She made friends at the hotel pool (and made him practically purr)...


... and walked on the beach...


... and celebrated her 10th wedding anniversary, wondering both where the time has gone and how--and who!--she ever was without him.


And then she had to come home.

[For like a minute.]

She had to go shopping (she hates shopping).


Because she (and her husband) turned right around and flew to New Orleans after getting stuck overnight in Memphis!

Where she attended a welcome dinner in the French Quarter, a Bridal Shower Tea at a fancy hotel, a Bachelorette party [in a place--she's not kidding--called Cooter Brown's]...


... and a gorgeous wedding and reception...


... and a Bayou Brunch...


... where she finally got a photo of all six of the cousins together.


And then she flew home. Again.

[For like a minute. Again.]

She appreciated Spring in her own yard...


... and on her street...


... and in D.C....


... where she felt very fancy indeed going to happy hour in The District like a real live Grown-Up.


She made and mailed out Mother's Day orders...


...and designed a necklace for an artist workshop and took pre-orders and pounded out orders like a crazy (but very grateful) person.


Then she packed up some art supplies and drove south to North Carolina and Inspired Artist Workshop, where she got gloriously messy hanging out with friends and...


... playing with painted mosaics...


... and watercolor crayons...


... and fun paper for making art journals with Pam Garrison...


... and crazy fun experimental mini-books with the absolutely adorable CD Muckosky...


... and melted beeswax with Suze Weinberg...


... and rainbows of paint...


...and teaching people how to make jewelry beads for a fun necklace...


... and even a new sculpture material. [The lady she was supposed to make freaked her out so she made a tree, instead, even though she was told not to. Because she's a rebel like that.]

*cough crappy cell phone photo cough*

Then.

Then, she came home.

And sat still for the first time in [how many photos now?] a long time.

And she realized that she was very sad; very, very sad. [She just hadn't really realized because she'd been so busy.]

So, she took it easy on herself. She cut herself a lot of slack and tried to be gentle with herself, like she'd be with a good friend. She read books and took long, long, hot, hot baths and reset her standards to Low Easily Attainable.

And still. She was really, really sad.

So, she started doing all the things They say are mood elevators. And she called a counselor.

And slowly, slowly. Oh. so. slowly.

She started feeling. Better.

Somewhere along the way, and kind of much to her own surprise, she became a runner.


[She sincerely believes the running played a big part in feeling better.]

She started creating again, including invitations for a Kentucky Derby-themed bridal shower...


... and a plain canvas bag she got at Inspired...


... she even got out the sewing machine!


[She is now in love with ruffles.]

And she made some new jewelry... like the Act Love Walk necklace...

Micah 6:8: "And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God."

... and the Infinity necklace...


...and the Eclipse earrings...


She celebrated her husband's birthday by going hiking with him, and she tried not to freak out when he did this...

He's holding up three fingers on one hand and five on the other. The big 35.

... while she herself stuck to less precipitous heights...


... and enjoyed the gorgeous weather...


... and dozens of beautiful butterflies.


To be continued...