It's almost 11pm, so why am I still awake? Jack has camp tomorrow at 9am. I really need to get some sleep.
Nothing new or exciting to post today. My friend S, who's due around the same time I am, had her amnio today. Although her 13-week scan looked fine, her bloodwork came back questionable so she opted for amniocentesis to rule out a chromosomal problem. Prayers to her and the munchkin that all is well.
Until next time, keep on surfin.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
My weekly race against time
I probably haven't written about the CSA I belong to because I didn't think it was particularly newsworthy, but writing about it will make two days in a row that I will have posted, so here goes.
This year, I decided to join a CSA. CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture, and what a CSA consists of is a farmer who grows crops and a group of shareholders who prepay a certain dollar amount to fund the farmer who then uses the money to purchase supplies and grow the crops. The shareholders then receive an equal share of the crops as they're ready. Ours started in May and continues until some time in the fall, depending on what's still growing, etc.
The CSA has been a terrific experience, so far. We've enjoyed some vegetables we've never eaten before, like bok choy, kale, and garlic scapes (they make a delicious pesto, by the way), along with some old favorites like snap peas, green and yellow beans, all different kinds of lettuce, and zucchini. The major drawback is that we get so much produce each week that it's a race against time to finish it before it goes bad. Unfortunately I've had to pitch some foods that I didn't get around to cooking, like cauliflower and cabbage (not favorites, can you tell?). I hate throwing food away, so this part is stressful for me.
Will I join again next year? I don't know. I really enjoy knowing that I'm getting fresh, locally grown produce every week, but I would prefer to have more control over what I get so little if any goes to waste. If I could pay less but get nothing but salad mix, green beans, snap peas, broccoli, scapes, zucchini and tomatoes, I'd be a very happy shareholder. But that's not how it works. Maybe the solution is just to hit the farmers' markets; that way I know I'm getting what will be eaten. Fortunately I have plenty of time to figure that out.
This year, I decided to join a CSA. CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture, and what a CSA consists of is a farmer who grows crops and a group of shareholders who prepay a certain dollar amount to fund the farmer who then uses the money to purchase supplies and grow the crops. The shareholders then receive an equal share of the crops as they're ready. Ours started in May and continues until some time in the fall, depending on what's still growing, etc.
The CSA has been a terrific experience, so far. We've enjoyed some vegetables we've never eaten before, like bok choy, kale, and garlic scapes (they make a delicious pesto, by the way), along with some old favorites like snap peas, green and yellow beans, all different kinds of lettuce, and zucchini. The major drawback is that we get so much produce each week that it's a race against time to finish it before it goes bad. Unfortunately I've had to pitch some foods that I didn't get around to cooking, like cauliflower and cabbage (not favorites, can you tell?). I hate throwing food away, so this part is stressful for me.
Will I join again next year? I don't know. I really enjoy knowing that I'm getting fresh, locally grown produce every week, but I would prefer to have more control over what I get so little if any goes to waste. If I could pay less but get nothing but salad mix, green beans, snap peas, broccoli, scapes, zucchini and tomatoes, I'd be a very happy shareholder. But that's not how it works. Maybe the solution is just to hit the farmers' markets; that way I know I'm getting what will be eaten. Fortunately I have plenty of time to figure that out.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
So Much to Say... except not
I know, I know, I've been really horrible about keeping my blog up to date. And to think that I started one so that I would have a reason to write regularly. Nope, not working. Neither is that gym membership I purchased - hasn't gotten me to the gym once.
But anyway, as usual, I digress.
The most exciting thing that's happened lately is that my parents have moved to town. They've been trying to move up here for almost two years, except that their house hadn't sold until just recently. At first I was excited, then nervous. You know the kind of nervousness you get when you realize you're about to get what you've been wanting for a couple of years? That's how I felt. But so far it's been really great. I've seen them just about every day over the past two weeks since they moved, but it strangely doesn't seem like too much. I just have to make sure I don't take advantage of the situation and burn my parents out on helping me with the kids.
In related news, I feel that I need to brag a little bit. I am blessed with amazing parents. Really. I love them dearly, and I think we have a great relationship. And they get along well with the hubster, too. I couldn't really ask for more.
In unrelated news, I decided to download the Cockroaches' album from itunes. If you don't have small children, you probably have no idea who the Cockroaches are. But you might have heard of the Wiggles. Well, two of the Wiggles, along with their manager, were members of the Cockroaches. And a bunch of Wiggles songs are adaptations of Cockroaches songs. So I figured, what the heck. I've already started down that slippery slope by downloading Greg Page's album, why not the Cockroaches? I'm listening to it right now, and I'm really enjoying it. It's great 80s pop, which is right up my alley.
That's it for now... Ciao amici.
But anyway, as usual, I digress.
The most exciting thing that's happened lately is that my parents have moved to town. They've been trying to move up here for almost two years, except that their house hadn't sold until just recently. At first I was excited, then nervous. You know the kind of nervousness you get when you realize you're about to get what you've been wanting for a couple of years? That's how I felt. But so far it's been really great. I've seen them just about every day over the past two weeks since they moved, but it strangely doesn't seem like too much. I just have to make sure I don't take advantage of the situation and burn my parents out on helping me with the kids.
In related news, I feel that I need to brag a little bit. I am blessed with amazing parents. Really. I love them dearly, and I think we have a great relationship. And they get along well with the hubster, too. I couldn't really ask for more.
In unrelated news, I decided to download the Cockroaches' album from itunes. If you don't have small children, you probably have no idea who the Cockroaches are. But you might have heard of the Wiggles. Well, two of the Wiggles, along with their manager, were members of the Cockroaches. And a bunch of Wiggles songs are adaptations of Cockroaches songs. So I figured, what the heck. I've already started down that slippery slope by downloading Greg Page's album, why not the Cockroaches? I'm listening to it right now, and I'm really enjoying it. It's great 80s pop, which is right up my alley.
That's it for now... Ciao amici.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Either Really Slow, or Really Optimistic
That's a good way to describe me and my current predicament. Well, not actually a predicament, but...
I'm pregnant. Again. Yes, faithful reader, you read right. Bambino numero tres is on its way. And lately, the boys' energy level has me wondering what the hell I was thinking, having unprotected sex the day I thought I was ovulating (turns out I was off by two days, but that's entirely beside the point).
I won't give an exact due date since my children and my body choose to ignore them. What can I say, except that I'm a slow cooker. Jack was thirteen days late, and Ted showed up eight days late. I'm anticipating that this one will be Baby New Year 2009 at St. V's hospital.
Maybe it's my age, but this pregnancy has been much rougher than my first two, and on par with the previous one. From week five on, morning sickness reared its ugly head and only last week very slowly began to loosen its grip. Oh, it's still holding on, but it's no longer constant. Small consolation, but I'll take it.
So that's why I've been Miss Crankypants for the past two months. And I've only just started telling people. I feel more guarded this time around, mostly because of the miscarriage. I just didn't need anyone (read: my mother-in-law) all in my face about how things are progressing if the results weren't going to be good. Not after last time.
Yeah, so hope springs eternal. Like: Maybe it's a girl (but probably not). Maybe it'll be calm (but, again, probably not). Maybe I'll go into labor on my own this time (yeah, don't count on that). Honestly, I'm just praying that the baby is healthy. That's really most important.
I'm pregnant. Again. Yes, faithful reader, you read right. Bambino numero tres is on its way. And lately, the boys' energy level has me wondering what the hell I was thinking, having unprotected sex the day I thought I was ovulating (turns out I was off by two days, but that's entirely beside the point).
I won't give an exact due date since my children and my body choose to ignore them. What can I say, except that I'm a slow cooker. Jack was thirteen days late, and Ted showed up eight days late. I'm anticipating that this one will be Baby New Year 2009 at St. V's hospital.
Maybe it's my age, but this pregnancy has been much rougher than my first two, and on par with the previous one. From week five on, morning sickness reared its ugly head and only last week very slowly began to loosen its grip. Oh, it's still holding on, but it's no longer constant. Small consolation, but I'll take it.
So that's why I've been Miss Crankypants for the past two months. And I've only just started telling people. I feel more guarded this time around, mostly because of the miscarriage. I just didn't need anyone (read: my mother-in-law) all in my face about how things are progressing if the results weren't going to be good. Not after last time.
Yeah, so hope springs eternal. Like: Maybe it's a girl (but probably not). Maybe it'll be calm (but, again, probably not). Maybe I'll go into labor on my own this time (yeah, don't count on that). Honestly, I'm just praying that the baby is healthy. That's really most important.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Just wondering...
Is it me, or is this really weird?
This past weekend we had some family over to celebrate someone's 65th birthday. It was very nice; we barbecued for dinner and then had a really amazingly rich flourless chocolate cake for dessert. But what happened afterward struck me as just, well, weird.
The person of honor opened his/her birthday cards and, rather than read them quietly to him/herself, s/he read them aloud. Including the personalized messages. Maybe it's just me, and maybe my family of origin is the bunch of weirdos, but I found this really strange. I mean, who does this? And what struck me as equally strange was how friggin' HILARIOUS some other attendees found this. As in repeating the messages while cackling. Um, yeah, I not only heard it the first time, but I read the message because the writer asked me to check the card before sealing the envelope to make sure I didn't want to add a message of my own (thank goodness I passed on that... yeesh).
Whatever. I'm just extra cranky these days. Shocker...
This past weekend we had some family over to celebrate someone's 65th birthday. It was very nice; we barbecued for dinner and then had a really amazingly rich flourless chocolate cake for dessert. But what happened afterward struck me as just, well, weird.
The person of honor opened his/her birthday cards and, rather than read them quietly to him/herself, s/he read them aloud. Including the personalized messages. Maybe it's just me, and maybe my family of origin is the bunch of weirdos, but I found this really strange. I mean, who does this? And what struck me as equally strange was how friggin' HILARIOUS some other attendees found this. As in repeating the messages while cackling. Um, yeah, I not only heard it the first time, but I read the message because the writer asked me to check the card before sealing the envelope to make sure I didn't want to add a message of my own (thank goodness I passed on that... yeesh).
Whatever. I'm just extra cranky these days. Shocker...
Sunday, April 13, 2008
It's My Birthday!
Well, not any more. My birthday was Friday. April 11th for those of you playing along at home. I had a great birthday.
Friday night my mother in law invited me and my mother to see Martha Beck speak about her newest book, Steering by Starlight. She's an amazing author and incredible speaker. I didn't plan on it, but I bought a copy of the book to have signed. I can't wait to read it. I told her that Expecting Adam, her memoir of her pregnancy with her son, was a tremendous help to me when I had my miscarriage. I told her that it (the miscarriage) was "a very peaceful experience for me, and normally I'm a stress puppy." She said that I should be a good student of the new book. I am flattered.
Saturday night John and I went to dinner at our favorite Indian restaurant in Westport. We got our usuals, Chicken Tikka Masala for me and Something Rhogen Josh for John. Although the restaurant was crowded and service wasn't as exceptional as it usually is (mostly because of the family behind us who found fault in anything and everything that touched their table... ), the food was wonderful as always. We even got dessert, something we don't usually do there, and it too was very good. I have to be honest here; I can't say it was amazing because the dessert was three balls of fried dough (which were very yummy) soaked in sweet syrup, and I know how you all know I have issues with wet bread. That said, the dessert was still really good. Afterwards we went to Barnes and Noble where John found two books and I got completely frustrated looking at kitchen and remodeling magazines.
Today we hung out with my parents (who came up Friday to help out IMMENSELY by watching the boys while we went out). We tried to take them to lunch to thank them for babysitting, but my dad got all sneaky and managed to treat us instead. Afterwards, while I went grocery shopping, Mom and Dad bought a baby ice cream cake that we all had when I got home.
All in all, a great birthday. Thanks, everybody. I loved it!
Friday night my mother in law invited me and my mother to see Martha Beck speak about her newest book, Steering by Starlight. She's an amazing author and incredible speaker. I didn't plan on it, but I bought a copy of the book to have signed. I can't wait to read it. I told her that Expecting Adam, her memoir of her pregnancy with her son, was a tremendous help to me when I had my miscarriage. I told her that it (the miscarriage) was "a very peaceful experience for me, and normally I'm a stress puppy." She said that I should be a good student of the new book. I am flattered.
Saturday night John and I went to dinner at our favorite Indian restaurant in Westport. We got our usuals, Chicken Tikka Masala for me and Something Rhogen Josh for John. Although the restaurant was crowded and service wasn't as exceptional as it usually is (mostly because of the family behind us who found fault in anything and everything that touched their table... ), the food was wonderful as always. We even got dessert, something we don't usually do there, and it too was very good. I have to be honest here; I can't say it was amazing because the dessert was three balls of fried dough (which were very yummy) soaked in sweet syrup, and I know how you all know I have issues with wet bread. That said, the dessert was still really good. Afterwards we went to Barnes and Noble where John found two books and I got completely frustrated looking at kitchen and remodeling magazines.
Today we hung out with my parents (who came up Friday to help out IMMENSELY by watching the boys while we went out). We tried to take them to lunch to thank them for babysitting, but my dad got all sneaky and managed to treat us instead. Afterwards, while I went grocery shopping, Mom and Dad bought a baby ice cream cake that we all had when I got home.
All in all, a great birthday. Thanks, everybody. I loved it!
Thank You, Martha Beck
I saw you speak at the Madison, CT Library on April 11th (my birthday - yay!) and while you were signing my copy of Expecting Adam I mentioned that that book was incredibly helpful to me during my recent miscarriage. I'd like to explain...
One morning I thought I was getting my first period since weaning my second son (he's now 16 months old). When it didn't last longer than a few hours, I called my doctor to see if this was normal. She wanted me to come in and see her colleague that afternoon (her schedule was booked), because while it was possible that what I experienced was my period, but they wanted to see me to be sure.
Well, it turns out that I had a positive pregnancy test and an ultrasound showed a gestational sac. Since my last period was in March of 2006, and the sac was so small, the doctor had no way of dating the pregnancy. She sent me for bloodwork to get a better idea of how far along I was. So that afternoon and the following Saturday I had my blood drawn to measure my progesterone and HCG levels to determine (a) how far along I was, and (b) whether the pregnancy was viable.
My next appointment was Monday. I return to the doctor's office and she tells me that not only do my progesterone levels look great and my HCG levels are increasing appropriately, but their high level are indicative of twins. Mind you, nobody in my family has had twins. Well, one second cousin once or twice removed, but that was because her sister donated two eggs that were fertilized, implanted, and took, so that doesn't count. No twins by blood on my side, and none on hubby's side, either.
My head was spinning just a little bit. I went into this whole thing thinking I had passed a chemical pregnancy and here I sat, being told that I might be having twins. TWINS. I already have two sons, and now I'm going to go from two kids to FOUR KINDS in NINE MONTHS. Holy you-know-what. I think hubby's reaction sums it up perfectly: "Oh my God."
I had another ultrasound on Monday and the sac looked larger, a good sign, but we still couldn't see a heartbeat or signs of a baby. The doctor wasn't too worried because the office's ultrasound machine was circa 1973, and it was still early in my pregnancy (I figured I must have ovulated somewhere between Christmas and New Year's Eve, making me about five weeks along at this point). She wanted to see me in another week.
Another week, another ultrasound, still no conclusive evidence either way. Lather, rinse, repeat. Did this again for a second week, and the doctor decided I needed to go to the hospital to get an ultrasound done by the Seriously High Resolution Machine. Then we could get to the bottom of this mystery. My appointment was set for Friday morning.
During this whole time, I felt very "zen." Sure I was a little freaked about the prospect of twins, but if God thought I could handle it, then how bad could it be? It might be fun - and I just knew it was boy/girl twins. My cravings were completely different from when I was pregnant with the boys. Instead of pasta, bagels, and chocolate milk, all I wanted was McDonald's cheeseburgers and lemonade. I felt horrible all day long. I was breaking out. Hey, as long as there was at least one girl in there, it was all good.
As if I wasn't feeling "zen" enough, I happened to pick up a copy of Expecting Adam from my local library that Wednesday. I started reading it before bed and, as I am wont to do, started to devour it. I understood that feeling of being connected with the Divine, because during these two weeks, I felt it. I knew with every cell of my body that there was nothing I could do to change the outcome - pregnancy, miscarriage, boy, girl, twins, whatever - because it was all written by someone other than me. And no matter how much I want to believe I do (believe me, I did lots and lots of online research about how to "sway" your pregnancy attempts to favor conceiving a girl - diet, douche, sperm bath, supplements, you name it, I probably read about it), I have absolutely no control over any of it.
And then came the day before the Big Ultrasound. I didn't start freaking out until about 4pm, and then full-on panic mode set in. In hindsight, I think it was because I knew what was going to happen the next day, and my primitive reptile brain just didn't know how to let go.
Friday, the babysitter comes and I head to the hospital. I try to stay calm and positive while I waited my turn, smiling at the very pregnant women whose appointments were before mine. I found the sounds of fetal dopplers soothing, and hoped that I'd be back soon to deliver my bundles of joy. Yeah right, come on. I knew what was going on, but I thought I'd spend just a few more minutes in Denial. Besides, I didn't want to freak out any pregnant women by having a meltdown in the waiting area.
The maternal fetal specialist and the sonographer both remembered me from when I was in to deliver my second son, which was very flattering. They're wonderful, compassionate people and I was glad to see them again. Even when M and Dr. C could clearly see that the gestational sac was empty, I was glad it was they who broke the news. Dr. C simply said, "Well, that just sucks!" And M told me she was going to get me some water. Even though on some level I knew what I was going to see, it still was a punch in the gut. I still collapsed into tears. I cried for a few minutes and then, when I felt I had sufficiently composed myself, headed for the elevator.
On my way to the elevator, I ran into the doctor I spoke to originally, who asked how everything was going. I guess I hadn't fully composed myself because I just burst into tears. Dr. D gave me a hug and sat me down to talk for a few minutes. Like M and Dr. C, she was wonderful. She lost a son at eight weeks, so I know she spoke from a place of knowledge. She reminded me that a miscarriage - even one with no fetal matter - is still a loss, and needs to be mourned like any other loss. And she also reminded me that I am fortunate that already I know I can get pregnant and deliver a healthy baby, unlike so many women with fertility issues. Some people might be offended that she would say that, but she's absolutely right.
I had a D&C the following Tuesday, and it was blessedly uneventful. Well, except that I almost fainted when they inserted my IV. You know those medical types, you have to keep them on their toes!
It's funny. When I mention that I had a miscarriage, the first reaction from most people is an apology, and sometimes pity. I don't want to seem unappreciative or ungrateful for people's concern, but I really feel that I understand why this happened. Thankfully this was not the worst thing that has ever befallen me. We weren't trying to get pregnant, and I didn't see a heartbeat before I found out that I had miscarried. And, most important, I was delivered an important lesson from the Divine that has reaffirmed my faith.
Thank you, Martha Beck. You helped me integrate that Divine lesson into my being. I can't wait to see what you help me and my Stargazer find!
One morning I thought I was getting my first period since weaning my second son (he's now 16 months old). When it didn't last longer than a few hours, I called my doctor to see if this was normal. She wanted me to come in and see her colleague that afternoon (her schedule was booked), because while it was possible that what I experienced was my period, but they wanted to see me to be sure.
Well, it turns out that I had a positive pregnancy test and an ultrasound showed a gestational sac. Since my last period was in March of 2006, and the sac was so small, the doctor had no way of dating the pregnancy. She sent me for bloodwork to get a better idea of how far along I was. So that afternoon and the following Saturday I had my blood drawn to measure my progesterone and HCG levels to determine (a) how far along I was, and (b) whether the pregnancy was viable.
My next appointment was Monday. I return to the doctor's office and she tells me that not only do my progesterone levels look great and my HCG levels are increasing appropriately, but their high level are indicative of twins. Mind you, nobody in my family has had twins. Well, one second cousin once or twice removed, but that was because her sister donated two eggs that were fertilized, implanted, and took, so that doesn't count. No twins by blood on my side, and none on hubby's side, either.
My head was spinning just a little bit. I went into this whole thing thinking I had passed a chemical pregnancy and here I sat, being told that I might be having twins. TWINS. I already have two sons, and now I'm going to go from two kids to FOUR KINDS in NINE MONTHS. Holy you-know-what. I think hubby's reaction sums it up perfectly: "Oh my God."
I had another ultrasound on Monday and the sac looked larger, a good sign, but we still couldn't see a heartbeat or signs of a baby. The doctor wasn't too worried because the office's ultrasound machine was circa 1973, and it was still early in my pregnancy (I figured I must have ovulated somewhere between Christmas and New Year's Eve, making me about five weeks along at this point). She wanted to see me in another week.
Another week, another ultrasound, still no conclusive evidence either way. Lather, rinse, repeat. Did this again for a second week, and the doctor decided I needed to go to the hospital to get an ultrasound done by the Seriously High Resolution Machine. Then we could get to the bottom of this mystery. My appointment was set for Friday morning.
During this whole time, I felt very "zen." Sure I was a little freaked about the prospect of twins, but if God thought I could handle it, then how bad could it be? It might be fun - and I just knew it was boy/girl twins. My cravings were completely different from when I was pregnant with the boys. Instead of pasta, bagels, and chocolate milk, all I wanted was McDonald's cheeseburgers and lemonade. I felt horrible all day long. I was breaking out. Hey, as long as there was at least one girl in there, it was all good.
As if I wasn't feeling "zen" enough, I happened to pick up a copy of Expecting Adam from my local library that Wednesday. I started reading it before bed and, as I am wont to do, started to devour it. I understood that feeling of being connected with the Divine, because during these two weeks, I felt it. I knew with every cell of my body that there was nothing I could do to change the outcome - pregnancy, miscarriage, boy, girl, twins, whatever - because it was all written by someone other than me. And no matter how much I want to believe I do (believe me, I did lots and lots of online research about how to "sway" your pregnancy attempts to favor conceiving a girl - diet, douche, sperm bath, supplements, you name it, I probably read about it), I have absolutely no control over any of it.
And then came the day before the Big Ultrasound. I didn't start freaking out until about 4pm, and then full-on panic mode set in. In hindsight, I think it was because I knew what was going to happen the next day, and my primitive reptile brain just didn't know how to let go.
Friday, the babysitter comes and I head to the hospital. I try to stay calm and positive while I waited my turn, smiling at the very pregnant women whose appointments were before mine. I found the sounds of fetal dopplers soothing, and hoped that I'd be back soon to deliver my bundles of joy. Yeah right, come on. I knew what was going on, but I thought I'd spend just a few more minutes in Denial. Besides, I didn't want to freak out any pregnant women by having a meltdown in the waiting area.
The maternal fetal specialist and the sonographer both remembered me from when I was in to deliver my second son, which was very flattering. They're wonderful, compassionate people and I was glad to see them again. Even when M and Dr. C could clearly see that the gestational sac was empty, I was glad it was they who broke the news. Dr. C simply said, "Well, that just sucks!" And M told me she was going to get me some water. Even though on some level I knew what I was going to see, it still was a punch in the gut. I still collapsed into tears. I cried for a few minutes and then, when I felt I had sufficiently composed myself, headed for the elevator.
On my way to the elevator, I ran into the doctor I spoke to originally, who asked how everything was going. I guess I hadn't fully composed myself because I just burst into tears. Dr. D gave me a hug and sat me down to talk for a few minutes. Like M and Dr. C, she was wonderful. She lost a son at eight weeks, so I know she spoke from a place of knowledge. She reminded me that a miscarriage - even one with no fetal matter - is still a loss, and needs to be mourned like any other loss. And she also reminded me that I am fortunate that already I know I can get pregnant and deliver a healthy baby, unlike so many women with fertility issues. Some people might be offended that she would say that, but she's absolutely right.
I had a D&C the following Tuesday, and it was blessedly uneventful. Well, except that I almost fainted when they inserted my IV. You know those medical types, you have to keep them on their toes!
It's funny. When I mention that I had a miscarriage, the first reaction from most people is an apology, and sometimes pity. I don't want to seem unappreciative or ungrateful for people's concern, but I really feel that I understand why this happened. Thankfully this was not the worst thing that has ever befallen me. We weren't trying to get pregnant, and I didn't see a heartbeat before I found out that I had miscarried. And, most important, I was delivered an important lesson from the Divine that has reaffirmed my faith.
Thank you, Martha Beck. You helped me integrate that Divine lesson into my being. I can't wait to see what you help me and my Stargazer find!
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