THESE SIMPLE TRUTHS

Conflicted. That’s about how I am feeling today as I come to you live from my bed, laying on my left side of course and drowsy from blood pressure meds that began yesterday. Conflicted about so many emotions, thoughts and whether to worry or not.

Yesterday’s ob appointment news has revealed some interesting facts. The simple truth is that She Number 3 is not thriving. It’s believed my blood pressure’s elevated status has caused blood flow issues resulting in her only measuring in the 30th percentile even though a mere 9 weeks ago my 20 week sono displayed a perfectly healthy baby.

I’m still stunned. Shocked in fact. Thankfully Gibbs was with me. Thankfully he was in the right frame of mind to ask questions as I had to continue reprocessing the information over and over in my mind.
The good news is despite not thriving at optimal levels, she indeed is alive—a great simple truth! It’s sort of interesting to think about- my body not supplying her needs. My body which abruptly started playing by the book during the first trimester when problems began to arise. My body which for the most part is in fact given nutrition before taste bud cravings—mind you, no simple task.

Not that I have not enjoyed entire boxes of sinfully delish Queen Anne chocolate covered cherries in one sitting or have interpreted the doctor’s “increase your calcium” order to mean She Number 3 needs ice cream—frequently. Because I have most certainly enjoyed partaking in those not-so-nutritional activities. But I have also eaten handfuls of carrots, grabbed fruit and downed 64 oz of water instead of my one soda a day and grabbing those potato chips or cookies my taste buds screamed for.

Fetal movement has never meant so much to me as it has in the last 24 hours. Feeling her move around, flip about, tap dance on my uterus and more only leaves me further conflicted. How can all of this be- every move feel normal, when in essence she’s being starved? Simply put it’s not something I can wrap my mind around.

The anomaly of my inability to worry, panic or stress has caused me to reflect on how this is affecting me. While laying in the darkness of our bedroom this morning I pressed my body up against Gibbs and contemplated waking him up to ask if he was worried, and if in fact maybe I too should worry. Because for the first time, in a very long time, I find myself wondering what will come to be.

But the simple truth is I do not what is meant to be, and I can only do what is told and asked of me. Despite wanting to cry from boredom and shed a tear or two out of disbelief that this is happening, I can only stay strong and never give up hope. Which is all too ironic considering my current FaceBook status details an overview of the triumphs and trials of 2009 and says to bring on 2010 because I and we are stronger than ever.

Since I Am Late...

Wishing your Christmas was merry!

NUMBER THREE Is Still A SHE...

...much to the dismay of my obnoxious and stern willing of growing boy parts. But we simply won't go there, nor will I remind those of just how much I absolutely, positively detest and despise the color pink. Though I am thankful to absolutely know since the last sono left things iffy. Hopefully we will finally be able to narrow down some names; wish us luck!

The good news is I am coming to you live from my couch, and not the hospital bed they wanted me in. I am not on bed rest, but I am not to do anything either due to my blood pressure readings. That means no cleaning, exercising, excitement, etc until my next appointment rapidly scheduled for Monday. Lovely. Simply lovely given it's Christmas week. And no we won't recall my request to Gibbs to please let's not just this one year host his family on Christmas Day, because... you know... he totally ignored my plea. But that's a whole different story for another day.

Because I was able to get out of a hospital admission, I was left to the horrors of additional tubes of blood drawn today- above and beyond the 1 hour glucose testing. My current diagnosis is NOS mild pre-eclampsia. They are trying to rule that out. If indeed it is ruled out, which could very well happen due to the lack of protein in my urine, the likely diagnosis will be: pregnancy induced hypertension. Which totally has the makings of a comical irony coming from someone with a history of low/extremely low blood pressure.

The fun and better news is we had our 3D/4D sonogram today! Little Miss Thang is active- *ahem* as if I, and we, were not already aware of this. She also has chipmunk cheeks, was highly uncooperative just as she was during the 20 week sono, and continues to enjoy her arm hovering near/at her head.

Without further ado here she, girl number three, is!

From what we can see here, she looks just like Ziva.

Here you can see her ear and hand on her face.

Finally here, she is found in her frequent sonogram pose- which is identical to Ziva's mannerisms too.  You can see her ear, elbow and knee to her chest.

2009 BLIZZARD

With record snowfall the mayor of Maryland has declared a “state of emergency”. It’s hard to tell how much snow actually accumulated in our area as the wind drifts have created waist high depths in our backyard. News reports have ranged from 20”-22”—definitely a record for our state.

Just take a look out our kitchen back door. Do you see it?

Dog tracks down the steps.

Back peddling right back up the steps.

And yellow snow just to the left.


Gibbs for the fourth, tenth or fortieth time is clearing the driveway and sidewalks. So on a quiet, blanketed white morning I decided to attempt my nemesis breakfast again.

This time I remembered to add the yeast first, not last. I also opted to utilize my kettle to ensure the water was hot enough. But then I almost mistakenly used the cumin instead of cinnamon.

But I am becoming a pro at rolling the dough out into a 10” x 15” rectangle by “eyeballing it”. What I still need to master is sealing the edges.

Don’t call me a pro just yet though.

Pre-Ceremonial Induction

Apparently Abby’s apprehensions and visions of being the middle child have been on her mind lately. Periodically she’ll reference this. Of course it’s always out of nowhere.

Recently on a Saturday we were all out running errands preparing for the baby. Gibbs and I were looking at bedding, cribs, strollers and creating a gift registry. It just so happens Abby was sick that day. And being the hormonally pregnant and merciless mother that I am, I opted to tell her to sit in the back—all the way in the back like the third row of seating back, so her germ infested breathing was not on the back of my “I’m pregnant and cannot get sick” neck.

Oh puhlease she willingly sat back there! In fact I think she truly enjoyed having the spacious, entire row to herself.

As (not so much our) luck would have it, the third row seats require someone to fold down the middle row seats in order to enter and exit the vehicle through the passenger door. Thankfully Gibbs opted to play Mr. Doorbell.

Ready to embrace and peruse the isles of Toys ‘R Us, which plays host to the Babies ‘R Us, we park and hop out of the vehicle. I was so excited to really linger and examine our options I could not wait to get in the store. With everyone out I remotely lock the doors and we start heading for the entrance.

About 10’-12’ into the walk Gibbs abruptly stops and says “wait a minute”. Imagine my surprise when he announces we forgot someone—Abby. Yep, no one let her out of the very back. I locked the doors when I thought everyone was out. And we all walked away completely unaware.

Hardcore belly laughter filled the parking lot as we raced back to her. And as if the event itself was not enough here are Abby’s words from when she not so promptly exited the vehicle:
I really am the middle child! You forgot about me already!