A Baby Fitness Post

I realized the other day that this blog is called “Running Funny” and rarely do I actually discuss running. The blog isn’t meant to be solely based on exercise, rather my intent is to 1) document our lives, 2) write because I love it, and 3) show that even though some of us do things differently – we’re all doing our best.

Today, though, I thought I would provide a little bit of insight into what I’ve done to stay fit during and after pregnancy. We are going back to the roots of the blog, if you will.

Pregnancy Fitness

During pregnancy exercise was a bit simpler. In general, I woke up at 6:15 a.m. four days a week for some form of exercise. I have access to a bike and elliptical at the clubhouse in my condo complex, so I generally chose one of those. When the pool opened, I swam. This was my favorite! As I swam, my aches would leave, weight was not a problem, and I felt fantastic. I swam for the last time on a Thursday, and by Tuesday Nixon was here. I made it to my goal of exercising the entire pregnancy!

As far as nutrition goes, a pregnant woman needs only 100 extra calories the first trimester and 300 extra in the second and third. Basically, I ate an extra snack a day. I tried to make sure I got enough protein with snacks like cheese and crackers, peanut butter on toast, etc. I ate a lot of salads – for some reason they tasted so good to me while I was pregnant! I also made sure to take a folic acid supplement.

Following Birth Routine

The sun has therapeutic properties and I knew that both Nixon and I could benefit from these in the weeks following his birth. We took a daily walk each morning beginning after his two week doctor’s appointment. I walked gingerly, slowly, but I went. At six weeks old, I began starting each morning with a 2-3 mile jog. In general Nixon would fall asleep by the end of these. When the weather turned cold and my pelvic did not improve, I had to modify. Two days a week I bundle Nixon up and we go out for a quick jog. On other days I hit the gym at 6:15 a.m. before Tyler leaves for work or I do P90X. For weights, I lift my son. He weighs 20 lbs. That’ll do. I feel fit and enjoy starting each day right.

A nursing woman should eat 500 extra calories a day! I am pretty much always starving, so that 500 extra isn’t a problem. However, eating the right foods can be difficult. I knew when I quit working I’d need to have more self control with a pantry attached to my office. I generally don’t buy sweets to help with the temptation. I’ve stocked up on nuts, fruit, etc. and eat as much of those as I fancy. When I need a treat, I eat a handful of marshmallows (don’t judge) or I’ll airpop popcorn and add just a bit of butter and salt. Nixon hasn’t been able to handle me consuming chocolate, which has really helped a lot.

Since giving birth to Nixon I have lost approximately 70 lbs. I was worried. I didn’t understand why I was gaining so much weight! No matter how healthy or how much a person exercises, I’ve learned that some people just gain a whole lot during pregnancy or they have underlying issues, like my preeclampsia. If I'd known that, I probably would've eaten more ice cream!

I still have a few areas I wish I could target better, but for the most part I feel really great now. That’s the important part, right? Exercise and not going along with the “eating for two” mentality helped me tremendously both mentally and physically during and after pregnancy. Next time around my goal will remain the same – stay fit the whole way through. I'm a believer!

Merry Christmas!

I'm going to make it a goal to send out more than 12 Christmas cards in 2013, but this year if you're not a grandparent or the like you most likely didn't get anything in the mail from us. But we still love you! This year has been one of the best yet for both Tyler and me. We are so glad to have such amazing family and friends all around us. We hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and the best year yet in 2013.

Tradition Like Tevye

My husband says not to worry. Traditions come, they happen, they don’t need creating. But I think maybe creating must happen just a bit. I want to be our own family, have our own set of “things we do every year since I can remember.” But how to start? And when to start? When Nixon can remember them? Now, so we say – “you’ve done this every year since you were born!”? Or in a few years when he cares?

Tyler and I have a tradition to open all our Christmas presents one night a few days early because Christmas day is a busy one with both our families close by. I don’t think this tradition will last once Santa makes his debut. That’s about us in the tradition department. Oh, man.

I look back on my growing up years and a few things stick out to me most. Sleeping under the Christmas tree with my sisters and listening to the song, “Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer” on my radio alarm clock – I think that’s when I knew… Acting out the Nativity while my dad read. I always hear his voice when I read those verses. Hunting for our Easter baskets cleverly hidden in the oven, the piano or somewhere like it. Camping at Bear Lake, where I discovered beauty and raspberry shakes. So many good times.

Will we have that? I guess more than anything I’m excited. What will they be? What will Nixon (and other children, maybe…) remember? I hope it turns out magical. I really do. 

Frustrated

Nixon is frustrated. He wants to do a lot of things that he just can’t. He can’t crawl no matter how hard he tries. He can’t roll front to back and he certainly can’t stay happy past 8 p.m. I wish I could help him, but I’m no use. He has to learn.

I am frustrated with my body as well. Frustrated that it can’t do what it used to do. Like stand on one leg to put pants on or push or carry heavy things. Like sprint or bounce my baby long without searing pain. My pelvic is broken (not really, just undone). My tailbone is broken (yes, really). I feel broken. I limit myself to a short run twice a week, because anymore than that is just painful and any less is mentally too rough.

I so looked forward to the end of pregnancy and the ability to have no worry about hurting the child inside with activity. Although I exercised until three days before Nixon was born, I went light. I was hesitant. I went for a long bike ride the day before I miscarried a baby. Hesitation tends to result.

And now. Now my mind feels like it’s time to break free. I want to do so many things. I really feel I could run for hours. But I can’t. The doctor says maybe some day. Physical therapy first, then injections, then we’ll see. I have never been so thwarted.

Nixon and me. We’re in the same boat. Frustrated. He because he is learning and it’s hard being a little guy. Me because I thought I knew, and I’m dealing with the unexpected. It’s never been my strongest trait. 

Teaching Moment

Five months. What a trip. When we first brought Nixon home, I was pretty scared. I’ve cared for many babies, but every other time I got to give them back. And these babies weren’t counting on me to teach them anything. This one is.

I realize Nixon’s not so old and how many things can I really teach him? But there is so much he’s learning. Like sleeping. Somehow three weeks ago he decided he needs a big meal around 5:30 a.m. if he was to continue sleeping. I’m not sure how to teach him otherwise.

And lately he’s been rolling over a lot. Back to front, back to front. He has a few issues with this. One, he usually has a toy in his hand and can’t get his one arm out from underneath him. Two, when he gets to his stomach, he’s convinced he should either roll back or crawl, but doesn’t know how to do either. So what do I do? Let him get super frustrated until he learns? Or help him back to a more suitable position? Heck if I know.

I want to make sure he sees, loves and is grateful for the world around him. I want him to be happy and secure. I want him to grow and learn. And for now, I just want him to be a baby whose favorite thing in the world is hanging out with his mom and dad.

I love this little guy. He laughs at my jokes, loves it when I sing and has the cutest voice when he talks. Oh and don’t get me started on how perfect he and Tyler are together. That kid got the best dad ever. I hope together we can teach him everything he needs to know. At this point, he’s still alive with no lasting injury – I’d say we mark the first five down as a success.

A Game and a Guess

I’ve been thinking about how little I knew and little I know about raising a child. Some of what I believed were researched, educated comments have really come back to bite me.

“Oh, babies need to cry it out it’s the only way they’ll learn to sleep. So you just let them cry, no big deal.” Sure, yes. Sometimes babies need to fuss and sleep is a vital skill, so you do what you must to get there. But letting them cry is SO DANG HARD. I tried it for the first time at four weeks old – could not handle it. I told Tyler he was too young, I’d try at two months. At two I said he’s so small and colicky and sad, but definitely by at least four months old I’ll let him cry.

Well he’s pushing four and a half months at this point and the best I can do is let him fuss/cry for five minute increments. Then I rub his head, his tummy and go back after five minutes. I respect his need to sleep, and I guess it’s a plus that I rarely pick him up out of bed. We’ve worked hard at a routine, and crying isn’t often part of going to sleep for him now. But when it is I am far from the no-nonsense, tough love theory I had going on. Maybe by six months…

“Gosh, I would never sit in the back seat with my child and let my husband sit all alone up front. Pick husband over child, people!” My child hates the car. Like we begin putting him in his car seat and his face contorts, and in general it’s all vein-poppingly downhill from there, unless miraculously he is lulled to sleep (this doesn’t happen often). Yesterday I told Tyler I would pay $100 for something, anything, that would make him like the car. I am that desperate.

And so, when my nerves have found their end, Tyler or I will hop on back and sing and pat the little dude’s head and do anything to keep the peace. Even that doesn’t always work, but it’s worth a try. If you have any $100 ideas, please share. But at this point I’m eating my words from time to time. Ugh. That’s rough.

This parenthood thing is such a guessing game, and I’d never even attempt to tell anyone how to play. I hope I do a few things right in the end.

He Fixed It

I decided to make the most ridiculous cookies for a Spooky Dinner to celebrate my mom’s birthday (she’s a Halloween baby). A simple sugar cookie it seemed with orange, yellow and white becoming a super festive candy corn. Cute, right? Well, yes. But my dough looked nothing like the dough in the picture and it clung to my hands like melted gum. I should not bake after 9 p.m. It’s not good for anyone.

So what did my husband do – even after he had tried to convince me that cute food was not good food, and I wouldn't listen? He patiently took the dough added heaps of flour to the counter top and fixed the situation. All while I stood there ready to cry. He just fixed it. He fixes things.

The candy corn debacle was an end to a frustrating day. You see, I tried to have a photography session with Nixon all by myself. Don’t laugh. Our household is a little too cheap to bring in the professionals every few weeks, but Nixon is nearing four months and oh, so cute, and… long story short, I wanted pictures badly, but it wouldn’t work to buy them.

So I did what any resourceful woman would do – I set up backdrops throughout the house while Nixon was sleeping. I looked for pictures I liked online, I got a cute outfit ready, I found good lighting. I was prepared. All for naught. It was a disaster from the beginning. Nixon didn’t smile or even look at the camera. I am not a professional and the pictures proved it. It was rough. I had such a vision!

Sad little guy. Mean mommy.

He'll always smile for dad.

In came Tyler. We tried again on Sunday with his help. He was so calm and patient and brought out the best smiles in Nixon. We got pictures that will last forever. And I realized one more time why I married him. He fixes things. And he does it without anger or annoyance, even when I’m at my worst. He always has.

Nixon hit and passed up 18 pounds a few weeks ago. He grows and grows and nobody knows where his girth came from. We love the rolls, the smiles and the chatterbox he’s becoming. More on that another day.

Not So Fast

Last night I burned myself on a pan I was using to sauté red potatoes for dinner (love those). I was hurrying and I burned it pretty bad. It throbbed all night long and made it difficult to hold my baby.  It made me think of the last time I was hurrying too fast and hurt myself – the stairs on my way to the 20-week ultrasound. My knees will bear the scars forever as a reminder to slow the heck down.

Today I’ve been thinking about whether I’ve hurried too fast through Nixon’s first three months. It’s a problem for me, but I’m happy to say for once I think I’ve taken the pace just fine. Granted the first month was a bit of a blur, but otherwise I remember the moments.

He’s no longer a newborn. He’s a real baby. He’s done so well, grown so much. He weighs more than 16 lbs. for heaven’s sake! I don’t think he’s changed very much, but then I look back at his pictures or watch his videos and realize he no longer cries like an infant and he doesn’t grunt all day long anymore. (I am so happy for him. Neither of us loved the grunting.) And I’m so glad I’ve experienced life with him.

Right now the typical day for us consists of:

Eating. Every three hours.

Playing. 30-60 minutes afterwards, typically on the floor. Lots of giggles, lots of smiles. He loves it when we blow on his neck or kiss his cheeks. That gets him every time. He also loves squats with Tyler. When he’s having a hard evening, that’s our go-to. I sing a lot and tell stories, which typically get a smile. He talks back some days too. Right now he’s trying hard to roll over – he’s getting a little frustrated. I think he’ll do it any day.

Sleeping. In the morning he sleeps right up until the next feeding. His naptime gets shorter as the day goes on. Sometimes I try to rest too. Other days I clean, prep dinner, write, etc. I always have something going on.

Bedtime. A bath, a blow dry and he’s ready to eat and settle in for the night. Bedtime starts at 9 p.m. and he typically sleeps until 6-7 a.m. Two nights in a row last week he slept until 8 am.

Did I mention we totally love him?!

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The Crown

When I was in high school I wrote a poem called “The Crown” for my creative writing class. It was fairly personal, a poem about feeling like I needed the crown of popularity and realizing it wasn’t necessary or worth what the crown required. It was a good poem I guess. As far as I know the teacher still reads it to his students.   

High school was years ago, and I have long since been at a point where I didn’t need a “crown.” I’ve never been one to need a lot of friends, and I’ve always kept myself so busy that the few incredible friends I had satisfied my need for companionship just fine. Until now.

My baby sleeps. One hour awake, two hours asleep pretty much all day long. I am so proud of him for it and happy that he’s getting the rest he needs. I am not bored, but I am alone. I have picked up reading again, rearranged my wardrobe, found some new recipes, ran some nice routes. But that only gets me until 12 p.m. or so. Then I want to talk. 

When I went to work every day, I had a built-in social network. My co-workers and I had several solid conversations daily about current events, family drama, etc. That element of my life is gone and I miss it more than any other.

I want to start a group where we just get together and talk, once from 9-10 a.m. and maybe again at 3:30 p.m. or so. We’ll all read the news often, so we all know what’s going on and bring good things to the conversation. I know, this group is not possible in a mom and naptime sort of world. But I want it. I crave it.

At any rate, I’m realizing that I need to make friends.But for the life of me I can’t remember how. It’s like my first day of high school all over again. Who knew I was living on repeat.  Here we go again. 

Good Times

I continue to be amazed at how reduced my to do list is and yet how busy I remain. I can’t tell you where the days go or even what day it is most of the time, but they definitely fly.

What a fun time of life! I'd say Nixon has enjoyed his first two and a half months. He’s gone to the farm, the golf course, the canyon, the lake and a dozen other places. Most days he just stays home with me though. He takes four naps a day and sleeps between 7-9 hours at night. His favorite things to do are to lie on his tummy, take luxurious baths (complete with a blow dry afterwards) and eat (obviously).

There are so many things I love about being a mom. I love laying on the floor and having stare contests with my baby. He has the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen. I love that he smiles more for me than for anyone else (although Tyler is a close second). I’ll do anything to make him smile.

I love how happy he is in the mornings. I love how he curls up like a little bug when I have to wake him up from a nap. I love how he lays his hand on my chest while he’s nursing. I love when he falls asleep in my arms. The books say not to let him do that – put to bed “drowsy, but awake.” Once in a while I close the book and just hold him. Until my arm goes numb, of course. He is a big boy with a big head!

I never realized how much I would love watching Nixon and Tyler play together. His first laugh was for Tyler. Nixon jumps in Tyler’s arms and scoots himself across the blanket a dozen times for Tyler. I think he reserves certain activities like this for his dad. It’s pretty adorable.

Being a mom is so much harder than I ever imagined. But at the same time it’s so much more fun. 

Back to It

Can you keep a secret? Nixon and I went for a run.

Today I hit the six-week point since baby. And that means, if all looks well tomorrow at the doctor’s, I will be cleared to run. I promised myself I would wait, but then I got curious and then ... I jumped the gun just a wee bit. I honestly couldn’t wait. It was hard an exhilarating at the same time. Oh, how I missed it!

 I can’t believe it’s finally here. I can’t believe it. Almost a year ago, I stopped running hard. I was pregnant, then it ended, then I was pregnant again two months later. Because of how it all happened, I was terrified to run. I exercised just about four times a week until five days before the little dude arrived, biking or swimming or elliptical. But running. Running was too much of a mental challenge. Even when I did jog on occasion, it certainly wasn’t heavy exercise.

 And now I’ve made it back to the point where my exercise routine can’t possibly hurt anyone, except I guess myself. I am giddy. Two weeks ago I was frustrated with the delay in healing I felt like I was experiencing. The birth process left some scars I feared would never mend. I consider it a blessing that today things are looking up. Pain is almost gone! Getting back into running shape will be a serious challenge. I am different, there’s no way around it. But I am all in. So dang excited!

The End and The Beginning

I quit my job and lost the ability to breath. For a moment.

I thought I had decided a very long time ago that stay at home mom was the gig for me. I wanted some time to make sure, so I told work I'd let them know as soon as I knew. And that's how it stood.

Three days after Nixon was born I was ready to go back to work. I was ready for the schedule, the routine, the interesting people and conversations and the fun projects. I searched for a way to make it work, even at one point asking Tyler if he felt ok with quitting his job and staying home instead.  I struggled with the 24/7 beckoning of an infant I didn't know and who I didn't feel knew me.

But I knew what, for me, was right. My baby somehow needs me and I need him. The phone call was made, the tears were shed, the fear set in. Very soon I will no longer have a job for the first time since I started babysitting consistently at age 11. Can I do this?

Interesting to me, as soon as I let go of that life, something new set in. Love. I love this baby. Whatever part of me I feel like I've lost, there's something new and different setting in. I'm becoming a mom. I still don't know what that means for me completely. I know my “to do” list has shortened substantially and some days I look back on my day and can’t for the life of me account for what I accomplished, besides keeping a child fed and clean. But I know this new life fits. However it changes me, it's who I'm meant to be.

Searching

I have been reading too many books. Parenting books, to be exact. Getting baby to sleep, to be more exact. My baby is five weeks old today. But he has been having a hard time with too little good sleep, and I want to help him be a talented sleeper like his dad so I know I've got to start early.

So many opinions flood the airwaves. Never, ever let your baby cry, says one. You're heartless and they'll grow up with dependencies and addictions because you abandoned them. Really, that's what they tell me.

On the other end of the spectrum "the book" says beginning after the first week of life you must let them cry in their bed until they fall asleep each nap time because you're in charge. In return people will stop you in the street to tell you how happy and well adjusted your child is. And my child won't have entitlement issues later in life, they say.

I see both sides, I'm right down the middle and some days I feel like I'm doing it all wrong. It's terrifying to think that what I do now is going to affect a life forever. I never fully accepted the pressure that comes along with being a mom until now.

But I'm realizing that I know more than anybody else. Maybe I am even wiser than Babywise. Sometimes he fights sleep and I have to do what it takes to get him there, even if that means letting him cry while I watch the monitor and cry along with him. Sometimes he needs a little extra time with me and I will give it to him. And every once in a while he actually is starving and it's only been an hour and a half. I'll feed him.

I don't know what I'm doing. But I'm doing my very best and hopefully the rest is made up for. He smiles right back at me, has wide, explorative eyes, and slept six hours straight twice this week. So maybe he'll grow up and won't be half crazy after all.

A Baby Update

Nixon baby is doing just fine. He loves to eat – gained more than two pounds already. He loves to sleep – in fact last night he went four hours in between feeding not once but twice. Good kid. He looks exactly like his dad. He hates the hiccups, being bored and waiting on meals (don’t we all). He’s a big time grunter, makes lots of faces and loves baths.



Tyler as a baby



Tyler's little clone - baby Nix

He just keeps growing!

 He turns one month old in two days, and none of us can believe it. We love this little dude.

We are Family

I wanted to follow up with a few pictures of Nixon during his first few days of life. We're home from the hospital now and starting to get the handle of this new life. It certainly is a good one.

Dang cute baby

First family photo - right after birth

Ready for the car ride home!

Best dad in the world, hands down

Chilling with mom

A Whole New World

On Tuesday, July 3 at 10:40 pm, our lives got so much more incredible. We turned a corner and became what we've both always wanted to be- a mom and a dad.  It was incredible how instantly Nixon Tyler Gibb became our whole world.

At 7 lbs. 13 oz. 19.5 inches long and a big head covered in dark brown hair, he's alert and absolutely perfect.  As with anything miraculous, some hard times led the way. After surely a prompting from an over worried sister, Sunday we made a quick trip to the labor and delivery unit of the hospital. I was having some pain underneath my ribs and with very swollen "Shrek" feet in tow, I needed to be checked. After several bloods tests, heart tracking, and a 24-hour urine test, it was determined late Monday evening that I had mild preeclampsia and was at risk. So at 37 weeks and three days pregnant, we learned we would be induced to have a baby the next morning.

I was disappointed to be induced. I wanted everything to happen "normally" - you know, wake up in the middle of the night realizing its time to go, the mad race to the hospital, the wheelchair into delivery, etc. This seemed so strange. We woke up in the morning, showered, Tyler made waffles for breakfast, we took some pictures, we sang at the top of our lungs all the way to the hospital and walked calmly in (sort of) at 10 a.m. It didn't seem to be happening.  And then it was.

Labor wasn't very difficult in the beginning. We got started about 12 p.m, water was broken an hour later and mostly we just rested and waited. I had an epidural, but they somehow only gave me the initial dose and forgot the drip system. Two hours later when I finally asked if I should be feeling everything, the anesthesia guy came back and told me I was tough. Not by choice, dude. The epidural also tanked my blood pressure so I started losing it and had to have some oxygen. But that shot was way more enjoyable than the IV. I hated that. I was hooked to a bunch of things including magnesium (nasty stuff) and strep antibiotics ( I tested positive for strep). Because of preeclampsia I was considered high risk and had my very own nurse. Not that we needed one, it was slow moving for a while. 

At about 630 things got interesting. I started dilating more quickly. A six, to a 7.5, to a 9. I learned that my doctor was away because his home was being evacuated - another fire in the mountains. So many this year! So Dr. Haskett would deliver Nixon. I was totally happy about this- Dr. Haskett is really cool. He's a jock and funny and smart. I liked him. 

Anyway. I started feeling like my tailbone might break. And then I told Tyler they better come back soon because he was down, down, down and was going to come out on his own. Finally at about 10 they came back and sure enough, his head was past ready. They said women push for an hour and a half to get to that point. I got lucky. 

Nixon was posterior and turns out the kid has a big head, so it was more difficult than the doctor thought it would be. He would get Nixon turned the right way, then baby Nix would just turn right back. However, sparing details, 40 minutes of what seemed impossible and the baby was out! 

They wiped him off and handed him to me, but then things got rough for a while. I wanted to try to feed him right away. I wouldn't get the chance for five hours.  First, Nixon was dehydrated and not breathing super awesome. He was taken by the nurses and Tyler to the nursery for some help.  Then, my doctor vetoed the other doctor's decision to take me off magnesium, saying I needed it at least 12 hours more to prevent seizure or stroke. I don't know if he understood how difficult that made things. My energy was of course gone. But then I started puking, all alone in my room. I had already puked once during labor, so this was straight water. Then they tried to transport me to a new room. I passed out in the chair. Got to the room, passed out, puked some more. I was so out of it I don't remember too much. I do remember my doctor coming and I finally convinced him to half the dose.

That helped. That whole part was hard for me. I overwhelmingly wanted to care for my baby. But I couldn't. I couldn't lift my head off the pillow and with a catheter I couldn't move around and so Tyler played the parent role solo for a while. And he played it so well. Tyler became so much more to me through all of this. He is truly incredible and nothing phases him. He is the perfect dad. The perfect husband. The best support a girl could ask for. 

We've been in the hospital learning to feed and care for baby Nix. After that first night things have been so great. He's an awesome baby. Such a cute round face and alert eyes. Right now he's just sleeping in my arms and it feels so perfect. I am so grateful.  We'll go home in a few hours and real life will begin. It definitely will never be the same. And I'm so glad.  Pictures coming soon!

Training for the Finish

Remind me not to tell people that I loved being pregnant. I have loved some things about it – like the movements of a child inside of me and the sound of his heart. Oh, and the decorating. But pregnancy is incredibly hard – mentally and physically. A few times I have wished I didn’t have to be pregnant, like yesterday when the nausea came back. Or the day before when I could hardly walk because of what felt like a pelvic bone about the crumble. Now, the Shrek foot (just one swells, the other not so much), now that’s just funny. Can’t complain too much about that. Then I remember what a blessing it is and will be my whole life. It will eventually be worth it.

I am getting nervous about the whole giving birth thing. It sounds so hard.


The other day as we were doing laps in the pool before the sun officially came out I felt like I was in tri training mode again. Then I realized I am training – for the most intense physical test of my life so far. I felt grateful that I’ve been able to be physically active during this time of pregnancy, not only for the mental peace it brings, but also because I think I’ll need the endurance I’ve maintained for the task ahead.
 Over the weekend I bought my favorite yellow Powerade for use during labor. I have thought about buying the sports beans or shot blocks, my favorite electrolyte boosts. Probably seems strange to some, but they make sense to me.

I have done hard things, like the triathlons. But this time will be very different – instead of my parents standing on the street corner yelling my name, it will be Tyler by my side, holding my hand. Although there have been times I have prayed for the strength to finish a triathlon, those prayers are nothing like the ones I’m praying now or will pray until a baby is safe in my arms. Five more weeks. It's very real.

Baby Bump Update: 34 Weeks and Counting

My family planned a baby shower for me over the weekend. It was amazing. The theme was “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.” Amber, my crafty sister, made the decorations, which consisted of banners, balloons and even a monkey on a motorcycle made out of diapers (that was classically awesome). People were so kind. My favorite gift … maybe the monkey on the motorcycle? Maybe the lamp my sister Lindsey thoughtfully searched for for weeks or the car seat cover and receiving blanket my sister Janna spent hours creating? All highlights.

Honestly, what I’ll remember most is having my family and almost all of my closest friends there to celebrate. I was able to catch up with some people I really love. That was the best. I was so exhausted afterwards – not sure why. Tyler teased, “yeah, it’s really hard unwrapping gifts.” But even though I needed a nap and my feet grew three sizes, it was perfect. Better than a dream.

Yesterday I had a funny experience. I went to a doctor’s apt. The doctor asked me a question, and I began to answer. About 20 seconds into my response, the doctor’s eyes rolled back in his head and his eyelids shut. I have seen my dad have a seizure once, and this is exactly what I thought was happening. I kicked into first-responder mode – “Are you ok? Doctor, are you ok?” I began to stand up to get help from a nurse, when suddenly his eyes popped open and he said, “I apologize, I fell asleep. Can you repeat what you were saying?”

Oh man, I almost died laughing. He explained he delivered his daughter’s child in the middle of the night and hadn’t been back to sleep since. I was the last patient of the day. I felt for him, he really looked tired. But, I still thought it was hilarious. Reason #1 I hope I don’t have to have a C-section: It’s possible my doctor has narcolepsy. Yikes.

Anything-but-Relaxing Memorial Day

I would like a re-do of Memorial Day weekend. Actually, I wouldn’t take anything we did back, I’d just add three more days, and good weather ones at that. Those days I’d use to relax and rest after a busy, busy few days of:

My nephews - such boys, so great.



• Attending the Hill Air Force Base air show – cold and rainy, but fun to see the planes overhead and feel a sense of patriotism with my nephews in tow.
• Celebrating my sister’s birthday with lunch and fun with the kids. Mostly we just ate and talked for a few hours. Worth the three hours of driving we did to get to that point.
• Blessing a new baby – Tyler’s older brother blessed their second son. Family came to town and it was great to see everyone. The day was dampened by rain, but nice just the same. I tried to sleep after the festivities were over, but failed. I think I have a sleeping problem.
• Playing tennis, then golfing nine holes, then enjoying a family barbeque and a Heat game and late night Walmart run to finish the night.
• Making three desserts for the events above and doing who knows how many dishes.
• Realizing I have bronchitis. I’ve had bronchitis way too many times in my life. It’s definitely not welcome.

Man, I look so happy in this picture. I really do like to golf, I promise.

I slept little last night on account of the pelvic bones saying I’ve done too much. I promised to never do it again. Probably I lied. I am exhausted, but actually kind of proud of my body for all that it has accomplished. Tonight, I rest. All in the name of a three-day weekend, right?

Almost a Mom

Tyler took me flower shopping for Mother’s Day so I could fill the pots on our patio. We had a really great day together. I can’t wait to be a mom and our kids are so lucky to have him as their dad. It’s getting close and exciting.

They Call it Nesting

I have a sewing machine. Up to this point in my life I have been totally ungrateful about that fact. To my recollection I’ve used it twice. Until now.
Amidst the fabric purchases, new needles, thread and incredible left-handed sewing scissors (Finally something for my side of the world!), Tyler has been left to wonder outloud “why this sudden obsession with craftiness?” He’s not complaining at all, in fact I think he oddly likes this side of me. Just amused and maybe slightly confused. Me too, to be honest.

One day I decided I wanted to make a crib skirt (not that we have a crib yet…). I found some dang cute fabric at Hobby Lobby and after much discussion with the helpers at the fabric counter and a “simple” pattern, I was on my way. One full day of sewing and a half day of unpicking later, we had the “coolest” crib skirt ever. It is so darn cute!

Then I made a skirt (my waist had to be measured and re-measured for this one because I was sure there was some mistake – no wonder my hips feel broken!). And another. I own a double needle now and elastic thread, which I never even knew existed. I spent my fun money on fabric, and I was ok with that. What’s happening to me?

Third Trimester and All is Well

I gained 30 lbs. 

I looked at the scale and looked again, until I had Tyler hide it. I have been within 10 pounds since junior high. And now, I’m just not. I had a few panic moments in my realization that I will never be or look the same. Regardless of the awesomeness of the reward – that fact is a little startling. Then I had a talking to by not one, but all three of my very right sisters. Just roll with it and be happy. There’s growing going on.

Taking their advice brought relief. They're smart, it seems.

Beyond the weight gain, I am really pretty stoked about how this pregnancy thing is going [today]. Granted there are a few things I wish I could do, but can’t:

• I wish I’d gone sky diving before.
• I wish I could run fast and long. The spring is perfect for it. It’s race season.
• I wish I could sleep through the night and sit comfortably somehow, anyhow.

But there are a lot of things I can do.

• I can watch my stomach make waves of its own as our cool baby kicks and rocks and rolls. It’s my favorite pastime.
• I can still exercise four mornings a week and make it to the 7th floor by stairs.
• I can clean – I’m in deep cleaning mode, but get ultra tired, so I stick with one task a day, like vacuum couch Tuesday, wash baseboards Wednesday, wash light fixtures Thursday. I’ll get there.
• I can eat a balanced diet, and I generally don’t get sick. When I do get a little green, a $1 slurpee refill fixes that.
• I can work hard and have fun with Ty.

With the change to May, I feel like the end of pregnancy and the beginning of a new life is much closer. At times I’ve wished to hurry things along, now I’m alright to have it stay this way until July. I think soon I’ll ask for slow motion. You’re only pregnant with your first baby just the one time, and I’m assuming the others are a little harder to focus on. I feel pretty blessed, today. It’s becoming real.

Climbing High

For the past two years, I’ve had a daily quest of climbing the stairs to my office on the 7th floor of the High Rise. Two years I’ve done this almost every day. This walk helps me start my day warm, both mentally and physically. Stairs seem unlovable, but I truly crave this daily hike.

When I found out I was pregnant, I made a few goals for the next nine months. One was to continue climbing the stairs to the 7th floor until there was just no way. My goal was to climb until labor. For me, this activity reassures me that I can still be active. Honestly, it reassures me that with every crazy, unexpected thing that happens to my body, I’m ok. I’m still me and my body is strong, not sick. Me and this little boy are just working hard.

When I fell last week, I was distressed for a number of reasons. It hurt like mad. It still hurts like mad. But it symbolized a lot of things for me. It made me feel weak, like my body was out of control. It made me feel that I’d never be able to do the things I love, like running or climbing the stairs or getting in and out of my car easily. And in this pregnant state, it made me believe that I’d never be able to do those things ever again in the whole world as long as I live (yup, I’m pregnant and I haven’t been for a run in two weeks. That’s what happens).

I am so excited for this baby – to put my best effort into being his mom and his dad’s wife. But I am also trying to remain me. I fell, and somehow I felt that I was lost.

Until today. I made a decision. I climbed the stairs, all of them. Slowly and painfully, but I did it. It felt amazing.

I felt like me.

Best Two Years

On Monday Tyler and I celebrated being married two years exactly. So awesome to look back and realize how happy those two years have been. I really didn’t expect it to be so great. I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect it to be this.

I went to a bridal shower last night and she was asked the same question I was two years ago, and gave nearly the same response. What are you most excited about about being married? She thinks the best part is being able to spend more time together and never having to say goodnight. I still think she's right. It really is one of the many "best parts."

I love Tyler because he’s the best friend anyone could have. He’s sensitive, he’s kind and he’s practical. He is willing to do anything to help. Last week he cooked every day because of my knee. Then he cleaned the floor. I’ve done the dishes a total of 10 times since we’ve been married. He’s that good.

He doesn’t like to see anyone sad. He’s absolutely hilarious. He’s a good, good person. I would rather be hanging out with him than doing anything else, pretty much always. Our kid is the luckiest child in the world to have him as a dad. And I’m the luckiest wife.

No Longer An "It"

I was so excited to go to the doctor Tuesday. So, so excited and nervous. So excited, distracted and nervous that I forgot how to walk a little bit. I walked out my office building, giddy, hit the first step just fine, then faltered. My arms were nowhere to be found (luckily – broken wrists for sure). My head was held high (another bonus). My stomach was safe (thank goodness). But my knees crushed to the pavement. Oh, how it hurt. My skirt flew over my head, my phone flew into the street. It was in a word – awesome.

I humbly righted myself and my attire. What a blessing nothing seemed broken. I picked up my phone with Tyler on the other end. I explained what had happened and walked hurriedly from the scene and the staring eyes of construction workers across the street. Then I looked down. Blood. Everywhere. Blood dripping on my boots, blood pooling down my legs into my socks. Blood on my skirt. Everywhere. I made it to the car two blocks away, stuck a few napkins on the situation and drove straight home where Tyler helped me clean up and grab about 19 band-aids.

Then we were off to a very important appointment.

And soon I forgot about the pain. Our baby is so real, so perfect and soooo BOY! The ultrasound tech started to giggle right off – she asked if we wanted to know what we were having, then said “he’s an exhibitionist.” And he pretty much was. His was folded in half with his legs clear up over his head, his arms tucked neatly, certainty of his gender completely in view. She commented on the baby’s “beautiful heart.” No cleft lip. No club feet. Everything. Is. Perfect.

He didn’t seem impacted from the fall and was only slightly active (I wish I could have an ultrasound at 8 p.m. - he goes crazy!). He even yawned a couple of times.


I don’t know anything about how to raise a boy, but I didn’t have too many ideas on raising a girl either, so we’ll learn as we go. But we are so totally stoked. Life is as it should be. Times like that make it worth it. Tyler sitting next to me, the kid in full view. Above my knees everything was right with the world.

Resolutions

I have one New Year’s resolution. Just one for this whole year. Give birth to a healthy baby in July. Hooray for life! A heartbeat. A hand wave. Who would have thought how remarkable and world-changing those little things can be. That has been our focus for the past three months, and will remain the goal. We are beyond happy. Beyond.

I wish I could say, however, that it’s been three months of bliss. I’m too aware that things can go wrong. My nurse says I’ve lost my innocence. This is our first child, but not my first go-round on the pregnancy train. The first was not meant to be. I have grasped one hundred times for a reason. All I’ve discovered is that sometimes the reasons come later. And sometimes they never come.

Needless to say, I’ve had pins and needles beneath me this time around. Every day has been greeted with mixed reviews. Success – we’re still sick! Somehow I’m sure that desire is normal. The constant seasickness is difficult. But it’s a sign that things continue. And for me, for now, my faith has needed an extra boost.I have begun an assent into better health, and our child continues to progress outside the 13 week zone of concern. My mindset remains hesitantly dang excited. Thank goodness for Tyler who never accepted that hesitation and is just pretty much looking forward to being a dad. He’ll be a really great one. That is for sure.

We can’t wait, yet we can. Sometimes it doesn’t seem real, but it is. It’s real. It’s happening.