My brother

is doing something awesome. If any of you all out there would like to visit his site, he could use your support! http://www.go-david.com/ I am so proud of him!

I think he needs a haircut. David would kill me though. He wants his hair to be long and wavy. But as you see, after he wakes up from his nap it looks a little kooky.

Look at beautiful butterbean! He wasn't too happy in this picture because I told him he couldn't watch John Deere for the zillionth time. If you aren't in the know, John Deere has made a video in order to brainwash young children such as Butter, here, to grow up to need to own Jonh Deere equiptment. So far it's been pretty effective. The songs on it are earworms as well. Butter wanted to sing Jonh Deere songs some more and Mommy coudn't take the heat.

It really has occured to me just from going through these pictures, he really does look better. He is still yellow, but he looks less so than say, last weeks pictures. He is making me crazy, eating all.the.time. I think he looks a little bigger too, at least I am really hoping he is. I find out on Thursday. We have a lot of people coming in on Saturday, and we can't wait. My grandma, grandpa and aunt, and her family. My mother-in-law and her husband, and my brother-in-law. It will be a very full holiday. Aidan will get to meet everyone!

The Shower

It is something I dream about. I envision how the hot water would feel on my shoulders, How clean I would feel. I think about it all day long on the days David is gone at work. Some days I just don't get to shower in the morning. I know, gross, right? Well, I have never been a demanding person. I don't need much to keep me happy. Just a shower. And on those days that I don't get one until David is home, it is all I can think about. So tonight I was all set to take my shower, complete with hot water on the shoulders and soap and all. I mean, my fantasies don't even include shaving above the knee, just to give you an idea of how simple I am to please. But invariably, someone in my home runs the water on me. A 10 year old who forgets not to flush, a husband who is washing his poopy-diaper hands. It's all about the kids now, is what I am saying. Not even the shower is sacred anymore. I gave up going to the bathroom a long time ago, I am never alone, or without Jack pounding on the door for me. But the shower, it was my safe zone. I am kind of mourning it. One day I will be taking a shower or going to the bathroom and it will be quiet. Then I will probably cry my eyes out.

Getting better

Here is Aidan again in the sunlight. It is supposed to help the jaundice somewhat, but since it's winter, the sun is a bit sparse. I'm finding it useful to take pretty pictures, though.
Today his bilirubin levels were better, from a 19.2 to an 18.3, so we won't have to have him stuck in the heel again. Everyone says that they forget the pain when they are this little, but I think that is a lame thing to say. I forgot the pain of childbirth somewhat, but I know that despite that fact, it still sucked at the time.
So he is slowly getting better. It has been stressful and scary, especially when they throw words at you like "brain damage". It has not been that dire, but they definitely made their point in why we had to be so diligent about watching it. They thought it was reallt odd that he was born with such high levels. When you are a new mother, all you do is worry... the little sneezes, coughs, anything really. I have never in my whole life been so consumed by how many times my child has pooped in a day. Really.
We go back to the doctor on Tuesdsay and hopefully they will just evaluate him by eye.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the boys have been getting used to their little brother. They both love him, and when I am wearing him in the sling, Jack asks if is baby is in my "pocket". He is too cute for words.
We als0 had Jack's real birthday on the 29th. Mom and Dad brought over a cake and he got a few more presents. He is so spoiled, but I can totally justify that. He got a John Deere DVD from Grandma and Grandpa, and you would not believe how obsessed he has become already. He saw a little flyer in the DVD for a CAT machines DVD also, and went berserk. I think it's amazing that he knows the names of all the machinery and would have never in my life pictured myself driving down the road and identifying cold planers, wheeled loaders, excavators, and articulated dumptrucks. It's amazing what your kids can teach you.

Yellow baby, blue Mom

Aidan is jaundiced. The past few days have been a blur and I am a wreck. His bilirubin levels climbed to over 19, which was cause for some alarm. He also lost 13 oz and we had to take him to get labs for the past 3 days. Heel stick every day. I won't be suprised if he never wants his feet touched again. His levels are starting to go down, but we are still going to the doctor tomorrow.

The doctor is making me supplement formula after feedings, which I can't help but feel is undermining my efforts to build a good supply of breastmilk. He said nipple confusion was the least of my concerns and made it seem like there is no alternative to supplementation. I can't stand feeding it to him when I know if he would just nurse more we would be fine. Part of me is scared to go against doctors orders, because what if it is better for him? He needs to poop more to get the bilirubin out.
I just don't know. I am scared, confused, and angry. Most of all, scared. David goes back to work on Sunday and I don't feel ready. I can't stop crying. It is different than last time, I feel more aware, but at the same time way more desperate. Maybe it's the lack of sleep.
This post is pretty crappy. Sorry about that.

He is here

Aidan was born on Monday November 21st at 2:47 p.m. He is beautiful. He was worth the rather excruciating wait for an effective epidural. A nurse delivered him because he came so fast and the doctor hadn't really gotten there in time. I am weary, but my recovery went well. He just likes to EAT. A child after my own heart.

Before I go...

I took some pictures today. I am strangely calm about this whole thing right now. I have lots of worries, but I have accepted that I will worry no matter what. Soon I will be leaving to drop off the kids at my parents and we will be on our way.
I am big and uncomfortable, and as ready as I'll ever be. The house is clean, I have the chocolates for the nurses, I'm all set.

Waiting...

I went to the doctor, and I am being induced on Sunday. That would be this Sunday, yes. The baby was measuring 9 lbs at my appointment, but there is a margin of error. The doctor still felt it would be best to do, as he could be anywhere from 8 lbs to 10 lbs. And that was before another week were to go by. I am not looking forward to an induction, so my Mom and I have a date for some eggplant parmigiana this Saturday.
Unfortunately, I had no pictures to upload because the ultrasound technician couldn't get any, I was way too faint laying on my back, so the appointment didn't last too long. We did get it videotaped, and we saw his little fist. He also has hair!
Other than that huge chunk of news, it's been pretty quiet, I have been busy preparing everything I possibly can. I have no idea when I will be able to post next, but hopefully I can get some pictures up.

My sick addiction

Some would say it's a tradgedy that a pregnant woman be so addicted to something like this. I will tell you, this is the stuff that hearalds in my holidays. Or not even, it's just that I am able to handle all the harried aspects of the holidays with a nice, soothing cup of Silknog. Or two. Or 3, possibly. Right now I am on my third cup. And usually, I limit myself to 2 cups, but tonight is special. Tomorrow I get to see the baby, and though this is reason for a noggy celebration in and of itself, I sadly will not be able to consume my requisite cup of Silknog in the morning. No milk before ultrasounds. So I am compensating for the cup I can't have in the morning. To tell you the truth, I have already finished it. Maybe 3 sentances ago. The most embarassing thing about it is that it is almost 6 dollars for just one carton. I don't even covet it. I guzzle it down like a 2-bit hussy at a bar might guzzle free shooters. I haven't bothered myself with checking out the nutrition information, because it's a lost cause. Even if I knew it was a million calories for a carton of it, I would find a way to justify it. Maybe the baby needs it. Anyway, it needs a warning label on it.

Where am I?

I want some Tzatziki . I don't even think you can get it in Ohio. As a matter of fact, I think if you said that word in Ohio, you might get shot. With a shotgun. By a man riding an ATV down the street wearing camo overalls. I used to wear camo overalls, hunting ones. In high school, I would drive my pink car to to Birmingham Coney wearing my camo overalls from Meijer. I would sit down and get the best veggie pita with extra feta you ever had. The pita was right on,too. You could buy it from them and take a whole bag home. Anyhow, it's a distant memory, and there is no tzatziki in sight. Maybe I can make some if I get to the store tomorrow. Feta is a different story that makes me very sensitive and and want to cry, as it is not allowed in pregnancy. I may as well just wait because tzatziki is nothing without it's sister of flavor, feta.

I am Group B positive. This means that even though there is nothing much to worry about, I have Googled anyway and decided it would be in my best interest to freak myself out to the point of insanity. There are very real risks involved if you are not given antibiotics. Now my psychosis shall commence to manifest itself in my dreams, whereby anything and everything shall become an obstacle in which I must surmount in order to obtain my child's lifesaving bag of penicillin. It isn't fun to be this worried. It isn't conducive to sleep, which is healthy and mandatory to overcome the awful worry in itself.
Maybe the best way to medicate myself is to go eat more Godiva chocolate cheesecake. Thank God you can still get your hands on some awesome cheesecake here. And no one will shoot you for saying it, either. The guy on the ATV probably hasn't ever had it before, but he knows what it is from pictures in his wife's Good Housekeeping magazine. I won't lie and say I haven't had a piece already. Luxurious, really.

I need to meet this person fumbling around inside of me. What is he doing in there? It won't be too long, anyway. I should enjoy my cheesecake moment before it becomes impossible. We took the boys to a big brother class last night, and they had a good time. The saw a real newborn, and made onesies for Aidan. It was really quite sweet. I will have photos to upload of the ultrasound Tuesday, and when I do that, I will scan the pictures from last night.

Jack' s Birthday Party!

I am sooo tired from today. This child was given so much stuff, I don't think he knew which way to turn first. Neither did I! I loved every minute of it, he seemed so happy today, and wired for sound. I bet it was the cake.

Halloween

I know it was a few days ago. I need to get it together! My mom painted my belly, it looks so... bulging and spooky. The boys looked great, but we didn't get too far. Perhaps about 9 blocks, which is pathetic, not even enough chocolate to last me a week. I may have to start rationing, I am not sure how dire the situation is yet.

The doctor thinks the baby is really big. I have been measuring 2 weeks ahead at my last 3 appointments, so they ordered an ultrasound in 2 weeks. I think the baby will be about 9 pounds, but the doctor said if he goes over 10 that I will have to consider a C-section. I think I am being bullied, because the ultrasound measurments aren't even accurate. They can only measure bone, not fatty deposits, so it would be hard to tell how large he is by his bones alone. I have decided to let them have their fun with the ultrasound, but I will only get a c-section if something truly warrants it.

Well, here it is. Where are you?

Offically gestating Eastern Standard time. I wish I had a countdown, but since gestation tickers can only estimate the day, it's useless to me. I need to be more informed...but I am not. I keep thinking the floodgates of my uterus will open one fine morning at the local Kroger. Clean up in isle 5.


5 more weeks is the approximation. I think I will have to have at least 10 more emotional breakdowns before he comes. The state of the world, the hurricanes, the lack of chocolate in this house, really, anything could set me off. Most recently would be my enveloping rear-end. And the chocolate. You see how they are linked. They are both masses of evil.


How does this change you? Well, it doesn't. Maybe it does. It's an addition to the earth. It's my addition. I think somehow it must change you, even if not as much as it changes me. I am scared of his crinkley skin and his trust in me. I can never moisturize enough, and I am never trustworthy enough. Never. Not even with 2 of them already, I still find loopholes in my parenting skills. For instance, you may not be able to trust me to not eat the last bowl of Cheerios and then give you toast, especially now, since I am "with child" and all. He needs the Cheerios, not me. So, I am sorry my forlorn toddler, it's toast today. I am also not trustworthy enough to wake up in time to bring the Valentine's day cookies and goody bags to class during the party. I can bring them in a little later, towards the end, when I have finally been roused by a phone call from an angry room mom. What can I say? She needed a warm embrace from her husband, I think. The bottom line is, I can't be perfect, not for any of them. Adding another one into this chaos invokes the most gripping fear in me.

Will I remember? I remember not remembering. I want to open the windows on my way home with him, smell the day, feel the air, see the colors of the cars that pass by. I want to remember it because it will be the day my world changes again. With Jack, I was numb. Shock and fear had overcome my senses, and I had no perception of the day. David's tinny voice registered as if speaking to me at the end of a long corridor, "this is the beginning of our new life." I knew that, I think. I knew it for the empty months that followed. Maybe I knew it too much. All I knew how to do was keep us both alive, and I was afraid I would fail at that, if I fell asleep. I can't have that this time. I reject it. This occasion deserves me there, and I know this because in retrospect, it was so terrible to miss. I remember very little. Your grandma would say that is your body's way of letting you forget the pain, so you are able to convince your crazy brain that it would be a good idea to have another some day, maybe tomorrow even.She is wrong though, it was wrong. I need to remember all of it this time. This is the last time.