Friday, October 31, 2008
In some ways that feels very pregnant. Twenty-seven weeks is nearly seven months of being pregnant. (Only five of which I knew about by the way.)
In other ways it is remarkable to me that I still have thirteen weeks of growing left to do. How much more growing can one person do? Quite a lot it seems.
So far it appears that I am gaining most of my weight in one place: my stomach. When I go to my Moms in Motion exercise class, women that are due before me have much smaller bellies than I do. A few I would even question as to whether they are actually pregnant, where with me, there is no denying it. Some of them have gained as much weight as me but just have their weight more spread out. Some of them have gained much less than me. Either way, my stomach is huge.
The question is, how much weight can one person hold right smack in the front of their body before they topple over? I think gaining weight a little spread out would make it a little easier to bend over, balance, etc. It might also make it easier to hold their nearly six month old son as well.
Doc JB tells me that this is a good pregnancy and that things are going very well. I don't have anything to compare it to so I'll take his word for it. I've had a few small issues to deal with but nothing major at all.
I've had a pretty nasty rash on the right side of my upper thigh for a few weeks now which just recently seems to be improving. Not sure where this came from but apparently rashes are common in pregnancy.
I've also had some pain around the incision above my belly button where I had an umbilical hernia repaired in my teens. The discomfort got fairly intense the other night at the Fair, but by morning, wasn't bothering me anymore. Doc JB says this is just scar tissue being stretched. Either way, my tiny surgery incision looks a lot larger with a stretched belly.
My main issue is this stinkin' heartburn/indigestion. I am taking medication for this but still have some real discomfort in the evenings. Some evenings the indigestion causes me to feel very out-of-breath and as if my heart is going to beat out of my chest, although Doc JB assures me that my heart rate is completely normal when I am feeling this way. It doesn't seem to matter what I eat or how much I eat -- the only thing that will get me feeling better is to lay down on the couch and do nothing for two hours. This isn't easy for me to do. Not only am I not a sit-around-and-do-nothing-kind-of-gal, but there is a lot I need to do in the evenings between husband and baby and dog. JB is wonderful and helps me a ton, but I still can't stand that I am just lying on the couch when I could be getting some important things done around the house. I'm still working twenty hours a week for RLSF so the evenings, after Isaac and Scrubby go to sleep for the night, are my time for getting things done.
Oh well. If that's the least of my worries, I think I am doing really well.
As for how I feel about being pregnant, I think reality has started to set in. I now feel pregnant and look pregnant nearly every minute of the day, so denial is no longer able to mount itself on my brain. I have also found that the guilt surrounding this pregnancy has dissipated to a large degree as well. I appreciate those of you who prayed for me in this regard as this was something that was plaguing me greatly early on. I truly wondered how I would feel comfortable going anywhere once I was significantly showing.
I think the struggle now is that anytime I feel uncomfortable or frustrated with something surrounding being pregnant, I feel guilty about feeling badly. I feel like I should be thankful for every single moment of being pregnant and not frustrated by anything. I know this is not realistic or possible, but it is still an accurate description of my emotions. How can you possibly complain or express annoyance at something you prayed for for so long? I'm still working this out in my brain. I know that simply pretending to be Pollyana for ten months and singing a song of pure joy is not realistic. Sometimes I need to say that something hurts or is bothering me. But I want to do this while maintaining a positive attitude and happy heart at all times.
I'm not sure if any of that makes sense. If it doesn't, just disregard the previous paragraph. When I work it out in my own brain, maybe I'll be able to write it with more eloquence.
I also want to thank all of you who gave me ideas for jeans/pants. The one website finally got a new jean in and they have my size. They are black which would not be my color of choice. However, I just need to obtain at least one pair of long pants to make it through winter. If they are black, then black they will be. I am anxious for them to come in and hoping that they fit. Otherwise, I may resort to giving up a pair of my good jeans to be altered. This is probably second best for now. I could, of course, by some cheap men's jeans, but quite honestly, I'm already pregnant and feeling a little frumpy and uncoordinated in the style department. I'd prefer not to add to that by wearing jeans that make me feel frumpy as well. Men's jeans hang on me in all the wrong places and don't make me feel very feminine -- something I'd like to feel, especially right now.
This evening we are going to a "Wifia Halloween Party" at Sarah's. We are all wearing costumes -- Isaac, JB, and me. No telling until I have photos to illustrate our costumes, but tune in tomorrow for some pics of Isaac's first Halloween.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
When we were getting ready for the Fair last night, we sat Isaac on our bed, propped up by a pillow. He thought this was great, until he fell forward, face forward onto the bed. I immediately ran over to pick him up, but JB told me to leave him and let him try to sort it out himself. He sorted it out by immediately rolling over onto his back!
This resulted in huge cheers and dances by Daddy and Mommy which Isaac thought was just fantastic. Not only had he rolled over, but he had waited to do it when both Daddy and Mommy were watching. Whataguy!
I wondered if it was a freak occurrence, but when I laid him on his belly for tummy time this morning, he took all of about two seconds to tell me what he thought of that idea by rolling onto his back. Daddy came home later, and he repeated the performance. We now have a rolling machine.
Eric riding the racecar all by himself. Okay, so Jonathon was next to him. JB thought it would be funny to get a picture of Eric appearing to ride all by himself. :)
Two of my great Eglin friends, and fellow soon-to-be-second-time-moms. That's Andrea on the left (currently 35 weeks), me in the middle (27 weeks), and Joia on the right (31 weeks). Andrea is having a girl, which they plan to name Cloe. But Joia is waiting for the big day to find out.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Yesterday, I unpacked my travel bag filled with toiletries for the first time in nearly six months!
Since May of this year, my toiletry bag has remained packed. It has hung on the back of my bathroom door. Instead of unpacking and repacking, I have simply lived out of this bag, forgoing putting the items back in their respective places in my bathroom.
JB kept asking me if I was going to unpack it. No sir. Why would I? If I unpacked, I would just have to repack within a few days or weeks.
Check out our schedule since May of this year.
- May: Picked up Isaac from Fort Lauderdale
- June: Took a trip to Minnesota
- July: Took a trip to Amelia Island to see my parents
- August: Took a trip to Chicago
- September: Took a trip to Fort Lauderdale for hearing (that never happened)
- October: Took another trip to Fort Laudedale for actual hearing
- October: Took a trip out west
I am done travelling. We are done travelling. We are staying home forever!
Okay, maybe not forever, but quite honestly, we have no travel plans for our family, right now at least, until Fall of next year. JB has to attend some conferences, but Isaac, Scrubs, me (and Elijah) plan to hunker down and not go anywhere for quite some time. This includes trips to Ft. Lauderdale. I just need to live at my own house and not out of my travel bag for awhile.
My toiletry back is staying UNPACKED for quite some time. Yippeeee!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Some good things happened in my life yesterday.
(More on the one pictured above in a moment.)
One of them was the fact that Scrubs successfully completed his first out-of-kennel-while-parents-are-gone test. We were only gone an hour, and we allowed him free run of the laundry room. We did take the laundry basket and shoe basket out, but we left everything else.
The verdict? Scrubs did very well, perfect from all we can tell. He was standing on his hind legs, looking out the window for us upon our return as if he'd been doing that the whole time we were gone. A quick scan of the premises indicated that he had been very well behaved while we were gone. We truly couldn't think of much that he could have gotten into, but it isn't unlike Scrubs to think of something you weren't thinking of. We'll continue to let him stay out for our quick trips away as long as he is doing well. Gradually, we'd like to allow him to stay out longer and longer and hopefully, eventually, he'll get the rights to the kitchen in addition to the laundry room. But that's a long way away. Baby steps. Very small baby steps when it comes to Scrubby.
Another good thing? The World Series, Game 5, was postponed and not just delayed. During the last few months of my pregnancy, I have been ready to go to bed each evening at, well, about 7pm. It's not just needing sleep, but more a general sense of bodily fatigue from carrying all this extra weight (and an Isaac) all day long. I usually hold out until at least 8:30 -- basically for the fact that going to bed before 8:30 is just sort of culturally incorrect. Last night, I wanted to see Game 5 of the World Series since a Phillies victory would mean this was the last game of the series.
A rain delay in the 6th, however, nixed those plans. It was already 9:30pm. I was one hour past normal bedtime and two hours past dreamed-of bedtime. So we turned in, figuring we'd miss the end of what could be the Championship game. Wrong! It was delayed. What's better is it resumes tonight at 7pm, with only 3 innings left to play! I think I'll be able to make it through the whole game tonight. Quite an accomplishment!
Okay back to the grocery store.
We were gone an hour, at the grocery store, where we were venturing for me to pick up ingredients to actually make something that didn't come out of a box for our MOPS meeting this morning. I decided to use Joia's expertise to my advantage, and after scouring her food blog, came upon a recipe I remember eating, remember loving, and remember thinking that it didn't seem like it would be tooooo hard to make. It was the item in the picture at the top of this blog: a Creamy Reeses Peanut Butter Dessert.
Let me begin by saying that my finished product looks and tastes very good. And let me also begin by saying (or say, secondarily) that Joia was right. This was not a difficult dessert to make, generally speaking. However, I have come to realize that my lack of experience in the kitchen makes even little things, a bit more difficult.
An example? Well, spooning whip cream on top of a layer of chocolate. How do you get the whip cream to spread evenly without it clumping together with the chocolate? Not too worry! I don't need any advice on this one. My wonderful husband was there and showed me a few techniques in order to successfully do what most of you probably do without really thinking about it.
Drizzling chocolate fudge is another. It's not so easy to dribble something from a spoon. I quickly regretted not purchasing a squeezable container. I also regretted not watching the microwave more closely as I heated the chocolate. That stuff oozes out with volcanic like velocity!
I also learned some other things about baking that I had forgotten since the last time I decided to attempt to make something sweet that required a recipe and not a box.
This includes the fact that when you see what you actually put into a dessert, you are quickly aware that it has a lot more calories than it does when you just sit down in front of something already made and eat it. Woah. This thing was chocked full. I guess that's why it tasted so good. Can you really go wrong with something that has: chocolate fudge, chocolate pudding, Oreo cookies, Reeses Pieces, and chocolate fudge in it? I mean, that's sort of fool-proof don't you think?
Well, fool-proof unless you put Wendi to task in making it. I have been known to mess up Macaroni and Cheese. I kid you not. If it can be messed up, I can be the one to do it. Not trying to be negative. Just trying to be factual.
Secondly, making something requires having a lot of foods in my house that I don't ordinarily have in my house. This recipe called for three of my favorites: Oreos, Reeses, and chocolate pudding. Oh my. These are foods that I truly do not allow to cross the threshold of my front door unless they will be eaten by a large group of people and none will remain for me to walk by repeatedly and attempt to refrain from the next day. But this recipe only called for 24 Oreo cookies. I threw in an additional 6 which equals 30. However, there are a lot more than 30 cookies in a box of Oreos and none of them are currently remaining as of this morning.
Side note: Is it really a box of Oreos? They really aren't in a box. What would you call that thing Oreos are in?
Okay, bback on track. Where are the extra Oreos? Well, as my niece Grace used to say when she was just a toddler, "They're in my nummy."
Anyways, the dessert looks great, and I do feel a bit of accomplishment as of this morning. Baseball, an obedient dog, and a good dessert.
Life is good. In closing, a quick video illustrating how simply good life can be. Again, I mainly shoot these for the Gramas, so they can continue to watch Isaac grow up. Don't feel that you have to watch it. But if you want to just see what Isaac is up to lately, it's a good example.
Here he is enjoying his exersaucer, just a simple little pleasure in life. Sorta like a Creamy Reeses Peanut Butter Dessert.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Right now I am watching our son play in his exersaucer. It's his new favorite place to be. It may have, actually, replaced his swing as top of his list in the last few days.
Isaac is making his normal slew of grunting noises coupled with some dinosaur grunts and loud squeals. He is intently investigating the tag on a stuffed toy train, flailing back and sucking on his teething ring, moving the stationary horse from side to side, and listening to the farmhouse play "Old McDonald" when he taps the birdie on the top of the roof.
I love to watch him play. I love to watch him investigate. I love to watch him learn. And I love so much more than that.
I love to hear him begin talking early in the morning. Even though the sun hasn't come up, hearing his cheery voice on the monitor and seeing his beautiful smile and squinted eyes when you finally come into his room and scoop him into your arms, is priceless.
I love how he giggles every time he sees his puppy. I love how he loves to sit in front of the fish tank for long periods, studying, watching. I love how he kicks his feet when Scrubs takes off down the hallway, chasing a light he will never catch. I love how he thinks his Daddy coming home is the best thing ever, only to watch him repeat the excitement the next day. I love his toes and his chunky thighs and his big blue eyes, and his contagious smile.
I just love him.
There were moments in the adoption process that JB and I questioned how bonded we would be to this child that we knew was coming but couldn't feel or see or touch. I can tell you that there is no biological child that I could ever be more bonded to. Isaac is the light of our lives. He was created by God, birthed by a wonderful young woman, and placed in our arms. But when I look at him, I do not ever think about the fact that he doesn't look like me. I just think about him being our son. I just think about the fact that I have been given the privilege of watching him grow from baby to boy to man. What an awesome gift that we have been given. What a precious opportunity and amazing treasure.
Adoption is not perfect just as biological children are not perfect. Children aren't easy and growing up is hard. But adoption has been perfect for us. Isaac is perfect for us. The laughter and chaos that we craved for so long has now permeated the walls of our house, and I can honestly say that there has not been one moment that I have questioned its inclusion into our lives.
Even Sunday morning, when a diaper overrun by a bunch of smelly stuff led to an impromptu bath and left us racing around like mad people to get out of the house before church became a distant memory, we were thankful. We were glad. We wouldn't change it for anything in the world.
We are blessed. If you are even considering adoption and wondering if you could love that child fully, rest assured that we are proof that you can. We are anxious for Elijah's arrival. Don't get me wrong. But we aren't wishing away the next few months. Everyday that brings Elijah closer, is a day that Isaac has grown up. And we don't want to wish away these days. We are enjoying every single minute of our little boy.
What a gift. What an amazing gift. If you ever wonder whether that gift could compare to a child from your body, please stop in and visit our home or this blog. Love does not know limits. You will never be the same.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
To all of my friends who have lost little ones through IVF, through miscarriage, through still birth, and after birth . . .
I wish I would have known about this day earlier than a week late. Next year I plan to follow my friend's lead and jot a little note to those I love who have grieved like I have. No matter how old the life, it is precious, and the grief is real, and deserves to be remembered.
Despite the completely different path my life has taken over the last year, my heart will always be with those who are waiting for their families or grieving the part of their family that they never got to meet. And of course, I am with those of you who are still single, waiting for the direction you had pictured for your life to work itself out. You all know who you are. May the Lord give you peace today and everyday.
Today, JB and I decided to take her into Destin so she could see a little bit of where we live. We decided to hit the Backporch (for lunch) and Baytowne Wharf (for ice cream). I managed to snag a couple of pictures . . . even one with Shea . . . who is very anti-picture-taking!
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
So I started browsing and found THIS website. Perfect! They have them. Only one problem: they are $248! Are you kidding me? Is this some sort of joke? I thought it was bad that due to my leg length I have to spend $80 on jeans and $60 on most pants. But $248! Would someone actually buy these?
Also, a quick side note. Many people keep encouraging me to look at the "Tall" section of Gap, JC Penney's etc. I appreciate the help, but these won't work. These stores only go to 34" inseams. Trust me, I'd look ridiculous in 34" inseams. I might as well spend the winter in Capris.
I found another site that you could pay to have your current jeans convetered to maternity jeans. The only thing is, my jeans are expensive (see paragraph #2). I don't want to "ruin" my jeans forever by having them converted. What to do . . . what to do . . .
The good news is, I don't live in Minnesota anymore. I can probably skate by through pregnancy with the bellaband and my old jeans and pants as well as some capris. But I'm still keeping my eyes open for 36 inchers!
Thursday, October 23, 2008
I was a little disappointed that JB couldn't be at the appointment with me. I know that JB loves his job and is doing what he should be doing with his life. He is a great doctor, and he belongs in this profession for sure. It's just that sometimes I start feeling a little sorry for myself. I sometimes wish he had a job that allowed him to "get away" for things. I shouldn't complain as sometimes his job does allow that. But sometimes it doesn't, and I can't help but think that life is too short to miss out on things like this! (Even though, truly, I think this is the first appointment he has missed. I'm just having a bit of a pity party.)
Yesterday he told me he thought he might have to take a 4-week course next year in Ohio. This, in addition, to 4 other 1-week courses he is already signed up for. I want him to go, know he will enjoy it, and support his decision, it's just that selfish part of me wants him here with me instead of somewhere else.
I, of course, would like to go to all of these meetings with him. However, some of them do not allow guests. For instance one of them is a race that he would be helping injured people in like the middle of the dessert. Don't think I can go to that. In addition, I am going to have two children under 1.5 years old. Sitting in a hotel for five days while he is at a Conference would be a bit on the difficult side. It would be one thing if the kids were old enough to enjoy the park or activities like museums or malls or zoos and such. But they will both be babies.
Anyways, I got off on a tangent and am coming off very negative. Let me end on a positive note by saying that one of these conferences in a year from now in Cozumel, Mexico. We are thinking we will make that trip kid less (grandparents rock!!!) and enjoy a great vacation. So it isn't all bad now is it?
When I start complaining again about how often he is away from the house, remind me of Cozumel. It makes me feel better quickly. Wendi by a pool . . . in the sun . . . for a week. Sigh . . .
During lunch, Isaac sat in his bumbo chair nearly the whole time. He watched patiently as first William and then Kennan took his teething ring from him, smiling as they pointed to his eyes or his nose. Those two big boys did a great job being extremely gentle with little Isaac -- who is completely at their mercy at this point in his life.
During lunch, I asked Jodi for the cold, hard truth. The question. Did she or did she not take our Scrubs to more obedience classes while we were out of town? Jodi laughed, and I laughed, but there was a twinge of seriousness to my question. "I told you he's growing up," she replied in her sweet North Carolina accent. Ever since we have returned from out-of-town, it's as if all the things we've taught our dog over his 1.5 years on this earth, and all the things we know he knows, have come to the surface all at once.
Let me back up a bit. Whenever I complain about Scrubs' behavior on my online "Dalmatian Board", inevitably someone will suggest more obedience classes. I don't think this is a bad idea, but here's the truth. The dog is a star in obedience classes. He does everything I ask him to do. The reason? Awesome treats. What else. The guy knows how to do anything and everything. Roll over, sit, stay, climb, whatever. No problem. Give me my treat, I'll do whatever you want. However, incorrect motivation (i.e., no treat) often equalled incorrect behavior (i.e., you are crazy if you think I am going to listen to you.)
But since we have gotten home, the dog has been a superstar. An example. Yesterday I needed to go into the guest room. Whenever we get home from a trip, we inevitably allow the guest room to be our "dumping ground" for all our luggage and bags and trip paraphernalia. So I needed to go in and didn't feel like Scrubs tagging along with me, putting his head into every nook and cranny of our trip junk. So, at the door, I told him to stay. I didn't shut the door. I just told him not to come in. And he listened. He stood there and waited patiently until I came out. And he did this with no treat lingering over his nose. Amazing! Was this our polka-dotted pal?!
Another example. I took him to the bay to play Frisbee yesterday. Deuce's family wasn't there to let him out to play, so Scrubs and I decided to do some old-fashioned-Frisbee-bonding while Isaac giggled and watched wide-eyed from his stroller. Normally our Frisbee session includes a lot of Scrubs catching but not a lot of Scrubs returning. I have to walk to wherever he is, retrieve the Frisbee, and throw again. Yesterday, he decided he would play the game correctly. Throw after throw after throw after throw he caught, turned around, and ran back. Who are you and where is my Scrubs?
The plumber came yesterday, and I was able to leave Scrubs out to greet him without our pup trying to sniff and lick and throw his body into the guy from head to toe. Scrubs does a good job not jumping, but he wants to jump so badly he often barrels into you like a seventy-pound torpedo. Not this time. Perfection!
Jodi insisted that obedience classes were not part of her weekly work with Scrubs. I believe her. But I am still trying to figure out what she did with my dog while we were gone to return to me this completely new creation.
Now don't get me wrong. Scrubs is still not perfect. Yesterday evening, despite his run with JB, he was wound up quite a bit when I returned from a formula-run to Target (Where I spent quite a few minutes explaining why I was so pregnant and buying formula -- maybe it isn't just the Commissary that has forward cashiers.) We decided we'd let him chew the cover off a tennis ball while we ate dinner -- just not in the mood to argue that this wasn't the best idea. I'm still not sure where the tennis ball came from as all of his tennis balls are already coverless. He found it somewhere and decided he'd like it better if it wasn't so green.
At midnight, I quickly regretted my decision. I woke up from a very deep sleep to the sound of heaving. And heavy breathing. What was that noise? I know that noise? Oh yes. There's the unmistakable hack that accompanies the heaving and heavy breathing. Throw up. Vomit. I flipped on the bedroom light. Scrubs had left a nice present for me right next to my bed and was back in his own bed by the time I could see what happened, as if he knew nothing of the mess I was destined to step in. Bless my darling husband who decided that his pregnant wife need not be responsible.
Unfortunately, I had great difficulty falling back to sleep after this midnight rendezvous, and 5:30 rolled around way too fast this morning. I would have stayed in bed longer, but our sleepy son, who had decided he couldn't stay up a moment past 7 the evening before, was wide awake and giggling on the monitor. So up I go. I also have an OB appointment this morning and wanted to get changed and showered while JB was still home.
I got both of those things accomplished only to have my recently-burping-even-more-than-normal son coat me from head to toe (literally!) during his morning feed. Guess I'll have to find something else to wear to go to my appointment.
One nice thing about being seen in family medicine is that it is a "family" atmosphere, and you are allowed to bring your other kids to your appointments. So Isaac will join me for this morning's visit with Dr. G. I am hoping JB can get away as well even though he is at Fort Walton Beach (the county hospital across town.) I plan to talk to her about the confusion surrounding my due date. There is some debate as to whether I am due at the beginning or end of January. This is a big difference to me as it would be the difference between me being 26 weeks pregnant and 30. I'd feel better if it is 30 -- only because I feel 30 would more accurately correlate with my belly size. Yesterday during my "Moms-in-Motion" work-out class one of the gals told me she was having a fat day. Knowing she was due the same time as I was but looked incredibly smaller, I asked her how much weight she had gained. Eight pounds?!? Fat day. I could just hear Joia quip in with some dry and hillarious comment to the notion of being 26 weeks and having only gained 8 pounds. Needless to say my weight gain total is about 3 times that. So if she feels fat, what do I feel? Anyways, my husband tells me each day NOT to stress over poundage. Okay already! But I am hopeful Dr. G. can shed some light on this discussion this morning. We'll see.
All right, so this post turned out to be a conglomeration of a lot of nonsense. But hopefully it was some nonsense that was a little fun to read. I'll try to update later today with some post-OB information. I'm sure I'll also have some photos to share of Shea's visit to the Base as well. She's due to arrive shortly before dinner time.
In closing, a video from this morning. This was after the eruption of formula and ten minutes of screaming tummy time. Isaac decided to complete the morning by blowing "raspberries" while he ate his peas. Guess he didn't think they were such a good idea so early in the morning. If the first two hours of my day are any indicatino of the rest of my day, this should be an interesting one. (A quick note: Babies are only supposed to be introduced to one food at a time. Right now it is peas. I don't do it in evening because something always come up to sidetrack me. So we do mornings. JB assures me babies don't know the difference between breakfast and dinner food!)
Secondly, my friend Shea is coming into town tomorrow! I'm excited to get to see her. We realized that we haven't seen each other since Kristi's daughter's Logan's baptism four years ago. It's been quite some time. She'll be here until Monday morning. Lots to do post-trip, pre-guest, life-in-general, so I won't spend much more time blogging tonight. Maybe tomorrow I'll have more words of wisdom to share.
For now, good night!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I knew it was only a matter of time before someone had the guts to ask me how I could have a baby so small and a belly so big.
Yesterday was the day.
Not that I haven't seen people do a double take when they see Isaac and Elijah at the same time. People are doing it everywhere. They look at Isaac. They look at the belly. They look back again.
But they don't say anything. It's a courageous move to say something.
But yesterday, my cashier at the Commissary must have been feeling courageous.
For awhile, my belly was in "maybe" land. Maybe I was pregnant. Maybe I was just not very good at losing the baby weight. Who knew. What we do know is that it is very dangerous territory to ask a woman if they are pregnant unless you are very sure.
I did it on a walk the other day. A woman asked me when I was due. I asked her back and then instantly felt a wave of panic. Was she due? Was she pregnant? How could I have been so careless. Good thing for me, she was. That was a close one.
I'm no longer in maybe land. If someone thinks I may not be pregnant, I seriously would worry about their eyesight or perception or intelligence.
Anyways, I knew it was only a matter of time, and Monday was the day.
The checkout ladies at the Commissary are very forward. Would anyone out there second that opinion? They are always saying or asking something that ventures just a bit across the line. Does anyone remember the one who said to me, "Wow! You are tall! My granddaughter is supposed to be tall. I sure hope she isn't as tall as you."
And no, I'm not embellishing that story. That's exactly how she said it. She then spent the next ten minutes attempt ting to backpedal or butter me up or make me feel better for majorly insulting me. I was kind to her, but I have to admit my feelings had been slightly hurt, and I just wasn't interested in becoming her best friend at that point.
Anyways, yesterday, while I was checking out, the cashier at the line next to mine didn't have anyone to wait on. So she came over to play with Isaac while I loaded my groceries on the belt. Typical Isaac was in his typical bare feet, and she quickly busted into a game of "stinky toes" with a now feverless and back to his giggly self Isaac.
Soon, both my cashier and the neighboring cashier were playing with Isaac as I waited for my bags to be filled.
But then . . . my cashier looked at Isaac. She looked at belly. She looked back at Isaac. Looked back at belly. I could practically see what her mind was thinking. How could I have a baby this old and a belly that big? She was doing the math. Adding the months. This wasn't making sense.
So she asked how old Isaac was. Fair question. And a safe one. It would also help her better calculate. I answered. Nearly five and a half months.
The wheels started spinning faster. Then she said something, and I wish I could remember exactly how it went. But it was something about us not waiting the "full six weeks" that doctors advise you to wait after having a baby before even contemplating baby #2. I quickly put up my hand, trying to save her from the embarrassment. I then went on to explain that Isaac was adopted. I always try to make it quick. But inevitably, people become fascinated and the questions start flowing.
The comments flow as well. I don't think there is a person I have met yet who has not heard the story and said, "That always happens." or "You must have just relaxed" or "I know so many people who adopt and then get pregnant."
I have stopped correcting these stories with my typical, "Well actually, that only occurs in 2% of cases." I couldn't figure out a way to do that without sounding just a bit mean or caustic or insensitive. So instead, I nod and smile.
Nod and smile and push my cart out into the parking lot with Isaac in seat and Elijah in belly. Needless to say this isn't a predicament I ever thought I would find myself. But it's a predicament I am blessed to be in.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Isaac ate right before we left and then fell asleep for nearly three hours as soon as we took off. Somehow, I was able to hold my bladder for three hours which meant we made it all the way to Vail before we needed a pit stop. We decided that sine we were making such good time, we should get off the highway and drive into Vail a bit. We found an awesome little "ski town" which was preparing for the big season. We took some time to have some coffee / cider, change and feed Isaac, and allow me to do some walking around (a requirement for pregnant women on long trips I have been told on many occasions by my doctor of a husband.)
Here are some photos from our stop in Vail, Colorado:
Another cute one of my guys with JB back to his non-goofy self!
We finally arrived in Boulder around 7pm. It was a GORGEOUS drive, but we were excited to get out of the car and be able to see Kelsey!
Kelsey is a great friend of our's from Minnesota. She is also a devout Catholic. We therefore asked her to be Isaac's Godmother when he was born -- Godmother in the traditional sense that she will pray and guide Isaac in following Christ. Of course, Kelsey believes this means Isaac is destined to be a priest. We don't agree, but we let her believe we are considering it! :)
A kiss from Kelsey.
Kelsey took us to a wonderful Mediterranean restaurant in the heart of Boulder for dinner on Saturday night. Then the next morning she made us breakfast before we headed back to good ol' Eglin. It was so wonderful to see Kelsey if only for a short time. Kelsey and I often joke that we are twin sisters lost at birth. I am so proud of my little sister! She is utterly devoted to the Lord and following Him. It is so exciting to watch.
Isaac woke up very cranky on Sunday morning. We couldn't figure out why but guessed he had a temperature. I had some Tylenol with me, thank goodness, as that seemed to bring him tremendous comfort and rest. Sure enough when we got back home on Sunday evening and took his temperature, the little guy was pushing 103! That being the case he was an amazing trooper for our trip home. He slept on both flights but was not his normal giggly, smiley self at all throughout the day.
One funny story was that after our first flight, the stewardess came up to us and told us that while JB was holding Isaac on his lap, all the flight attendants came to smile at Isaac and couldn't get his attention. He was just staring up at the ceiling. They realized he was staring at the TV (which was playing a cartoon). However, what was so funny is that she said it looked like Isaac was trying to "sneak" in his TV watching without letting Dad and Mom know. Being as we don't let him watch TV regularly, this was probably true! I can just imagine our little guy watching away while Dad and Mom were knocked out in their seats. What a sneak!
Another interesting story was that during the twenty minutes we had in Atlanta, (that was a fast run!) a woman approached me while I was waiting for JB to retrieve our gate-checked stroller. She asked me if my name was Wendi and then told me that she knows Joan, Bri, and Lucy (Joan's great friend!) and that she reads my blog. She told me her name, but during our sprint to our next gate, I remembered I forgot it. If she reads this, could she put a comment and remind me? I think it began with an "R" and I want to say "Rosemary" but I am worried that is wrong. I'm sorry I am so bad with names! Anyways she said she saw me, Isaac, and my belly, and knew I had to be the Wendi from the blog. What a small world. :)
What a wonderful trip we have had, but how glad we are to be back home and back in our routine. It's about time! I realized that we have taken SEVEN trips since Isaac has been born. We went to Ft. Lauderdale three times, Chicago, Minnesota, and now this trip west. We also took the weekend drive to Amelia Island. If you count my trip Atlanta, that's EIGHT trips for me. All of this in FIVE months. I have decided that I am grounding myself until at least next spring. I am not going anywhere or taking Isaac anywhere either. It's time to be at home.
Home sweet home.
On Friday afternoon, JB got an extra long break. We were able to go and see the other sections of Arches National Park that we had missed on our previous visit. We were unable to do any major hikes being as we had a five month old and I am not really in "hiking condition" currently. But you could still see a lot from the road or from the short "friendly" walks that we did.
This is Jodi's nephew Gavin. Apparently the pair dug holes together in Jodi's backyard. Scrubs was so happy, he decided to give Gavin a big kiss. Digging holes and licking! What could be better? Scrubs isn't allowed to dig in our backyard so this is a major fun time for him!
This picture gives me good thoughts about how fun it is going to be for Scrubs when our two boys can romp with him. They are going to be buds for life!
Thanks for the pictures Jodi and taking such good care of our pup while we were gone. I was happy to hear that each time Jodi watches him, his behavior improves. As Jodi told me, "He's growing up Wendi!" Aaaahh, at long last.
Scrubs was very excited to see us last night when we got home, running through our legs over and over and over again. But then, after a few minutes of pleasantries, he ran right into the hallway, waiting for us to play with the flashlight. Our dog's love language will always be play.
We really missed him and are glad to be home. Although, somewhere, in the deep recesses of Scrubby's doggy-mind, I think he is thinking: It's good to see you, but when are you leaving again? That hole-digging, licking little boys, couch thing, hanging with Jodi, was mighty fine by me!
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Gotta go feed the boy. He's letting me know it's time. "See" you all tomorrow back on base!
Friday, October 17, 2008
Another thing we have come to realize about Isaac is that he really only has about 4 toys that he wants to play with. He has a rocking horse, a teething ring, some plastic pictures of animals, and a red canary. He also likes these fuzzy animal books we brought with. But that's it. Any other toys we give him he refuses to even grab. It's quite cute. I really wasted a lot of space bothering to bring any other toys.
Here are some photos I have taken during our time in room 203.
Isaac playing in his gym. Somehow he got the blanket flipped on top of his head, and I thought it looked pretty cute! I think the toy gym is losing its novelty being as it is our main source of entertainment here in Utah.
I've done some pillow propping so he can change positions and still play a little bit. He will fall forward or to the side with this set up so since this picture, I have resorted to putting pillows on all sides to keep him from needing me to reprop him so often.
In other, non-Isaac news . . .
Yesterday, JB took a mountain climbing course. Or at least that's what he thought it was. When he got there, he discovered it was actually rock climbing. But he LOVED it. He didn't, however, even attempt to talk me into taking up this activity with him. No thank you!
After he got back, we headed to dinner at a little pizza place. We then stopped at a grocery store for some formula. I wanted something sweet but not something I would gorge on. I found these little Ben & Jerry's ice creams for $1 in the frozen section. They come with their own spoon and are probably like 10 bites worth of ice cream. What a great invention for those of us who have no self-control.
We also ran into a man in the lobby during breakfast yesterday morning who actually had two daughters about the age apart that Isaac and Elijah would be due to adoption/pregnancy. I asked him how it had gone for them and he emitted this sort of overwhelmed chuckle. It was filled with love and happiness but also a good deal of fatigue. He said we'll love every minute of it, but that in his opinion, it is harder to raise Irish Twins than it is to raise real twins. He claimed, and others have told me this, that it is harder because the older "twin" is no longer sleeping like a newborn. He is mobile. He is into things. But he is still completely reliant on the parent. Unlike a toddler who can feed himself and walk to the car when you leave for the day. Life is an adventure isn't it?
Today, we hope to get back to Arches during a break to see more of the park. JB is also taking a water rafting class today. Tomorrow afternoon we leave for Colorado. We'll get that evening and the next morning to see Kelsey before heading home to our place on base and the puppy we both really miss. I was glad to hear that Jodi is still my friend after spending the week with our bundle of energy! She's a saint. I truly don't know what we would do without her.