So far we have been very blessed with healthy kids for the last 5 years.  We get our sniffles here and there but very few actual illnesses.  Then... illness struck.  Only Gavin, thankfully!  (Knocking vigorously on wood!)  Gavin has been sick starting on Friday and today is Wednesday.  Not all days have been bad days, but we haven't been able to do much outside of the house.

I have this issue with cabin fever.  We live rurally and without getting into a vehicle and driving a mile or so, there might not be any sign of other humans existing.  To make life a little bit more stir crazy, Doug is out of town for work which means that my conversations for the last 48 hours have included:

"Joey, do not sit on your brother!  He is not a horse!!"
"Okay, Mom." 

"Gavin, you and your brother will not both fit into a diaper box!"
"Yes we will."
"Okay.  Good luck with that."

If there is still a such thing as Calgon, I insist that it take me away! 

I decided that since it is raining and ugly out and I have a kid that will have diarrhea at any given moment with no warning, that it would be a good craft day.  I got out a science kit to grow a crystal tree but the packet of crystal water stuff had gotten opened somehow and there was already crystals growing where they shouldn't have been. 

Craft idea number two was to make some sort of balloon filled with corn starch as a "stress ball" or tactile toy.  Well... yeah.  While entertaining to Gavin, this project created a smoke machine that essentially destroyed my already messy kitchen.  I tried this concept again with a different funnel and it worked a little better.  This time, I managed to get corn starch into the balloon but only enough to really look more like a visual aid of a scrotum. 

So I decided that I was done with the messy stuff and that it was time to simply use up some left over helium from Gavin's birthday and that would keep the kids entertained for a while.  I figured there was enough for 3, maybe 4 balloons.  I stopped after filling 9 helium balloons.  It kind of looks like a circus blew up in here, but the kids are having so much fun. 

Until then, I decided that it was time to share my very first belly pic.   

19 weeks

Yep.  I skipped 18 weeks.  I blew right past it.  It was a really busy week or so for us but busy in a very good way. 

I met my new OB and I am pretty sure that I made an excellent move.  He seems like just the doctor to be supportive of my birth choices!

I had already scheduled appointment with a genetic counselor this week so despite my lack of concern with genetic issues, I went anyway.  I haven't yet seen the bill for this but I bet I am going to end up paying a lot of money for what really turned out to be some girl chat (fun girl chat) about funny things kids say, awkward situations that happen as a result of those funny things, and how our kids are our favorite people.  She basically told me in less than 30 words that my risk was really low and the only reason I was there was because I am AMA.   Advanced Maternal Age for those of you spring chickens.  I have heard those 3 letters at least a dozen times in the last few months.  I have decided that regardless of their label of AMA I have decided that I am going to begin wearing a red cape with the letters OBA.  Old But Awesome!

The fun part of that appointment was that we got a nice long look at our little guy.  Things are looking really good!  The doctor (not my OB, but the MFM doc at the hospital that reviews the ultrasounds) wants me to come back again in 4 weeks so he can double check his heart.  He wasn't concerned but just wanted one more peek before he gave his official stamp of approval. 

So today officially makes me 19 weeks pregnant.  Kind of hard to believe, really. 



See you next week!

Now that the first trimester funk has finally eased up, I am trying to make up for everything I didn't do for the last 4 months.  That means laundry, dishes, bathing my children ... Okay.  I still did that, but it was only when I had too and no sooner.  So, overall I am feeling great which freaks me out routinely.  I felt some movement a couple of weeks ago but maybe baby shifted because I don't feel him very often.  If I didn't have a doppler, I would be a basket case. 

One of the things on my list of things I had to do was break up with my OB.  I decided that even if she somehow transformed into someone who urged moms to try an intervention free birth (ain't gonna happen), there was an even bigger reason.  If any of you have stayed overnight in a hospital before, you know how annoying it is to sleep in a hospital bed.  What is even more awful is sleeping on the hospital beds that are found in the maternity ward that are nothing more than a convertible metal frame with a glorified prison mattress set upon it.  It is evil.  My doula shared that there was another hospital nearby that not only had birth tubs available, they had QUEEN sized beds with... wait for it... wait for it... memory foam mattresses for postpartum!!!    Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, she told me that they are very natural birth friendly.  Having this place as an option made the break up so easy. 

I called the new doc, set up an appointment, and called to cancel my appointment with the old one.  I simply told the receptionist about the memory foam mattresses and she understood.  It was over.  Granted my decision to leave her wasn't just the beds, of course, but when there is a dumper and a dumpee, rarely does the dumper really mean it when they say, "It's not you, it's me."  It was totally her. 

I am excited about this new adventure!  I guess I can take the chain mail out of my amazon cart. 

At Easter dinner when conversation had gotten quiet I asked Gavin, "Can you tell everyone where we went yesterday?"

"We went to the hospital!"

"And what did we do at the hospital?" I quickly added.

"We checked on the baby and... It's a BOY!!" he announced! 

On the way home from the hospital I asked Gavin if he would have been more excited to have a sister.  He told me that he was just excited that we were going to have a baby.  "No matter what we get." 

While there is a small part of me that wonders what it is like to have pink frills and little girl drama, I know that God is giving us the perfect little person for our family.  How can I be disappointed about that? 

I am actually almost 16 weeks but I just haven't felt much like posting.  I have been struggling with the fact that not everyone I wish was pregnant is.  One thing that might be even harder for me this week has been that not every woman who gets pregnant gets to stay that way. 

A dear woman that I have never ever met became pregnant about a week after I did.  When I read the words that at a routine appointment she learned that her baby passed away at almost 13 weeks, I crumbled.  To say that I am heartbroken for her is an understatement.  I actually just teared up writing that.  I am just beside myself with hurt.  It just isn't fair. 

What makes it even worse is that I know that I will be her reminder.  It is hard to put into words how this is such an awful place to be.  I am happy that my pregnancy is looking healthy, but I am just crushed that I am that girl that she will likely see as the reminder of where she should be.  I just really wish I could do something... There just is nothing to do to take away her pain.  It just plain sucks.






My next post will likely have a gender reveal so stay tuned...

I love my OB.  She really is a fun lady and I would go as far as to say that over the years we have become friends.  Not like we go clubbing or anything, but we have a mutual like for one another.  As an example, she told me this long story about going for a walk on a golf course and finding herself a couple of miles away from her car and really really needing to poop.  This, of course, led to many a laugh about how she considered knocking on someone's door just to take a dump in their toilet but opted to frantically make it home to do her business at home.  Good laughs!  Good times!

I have to break up with her.  Well, at least we are going to have to have a heart to heart and clear the air about one of her most important roles in this pregnancy.  She explained to me that if the baby measured big at 38 weeks (remember Joey was 10 pounds 3 ounces), that she was going to force me to have an epidural and may go as far as scheduling a c-section.  THIS is not at all what I have envisioned for what may be my last birth experience.  I quickly reminded her that moments after delivering Joey she told me that if I ever have an 11 pounder, I have the pelvis to do it.  Her words!  She cautioned about how scary it would be if shoulders got stuck and the issues with big babies, but I told her repeatedly that I know I can do this. 

So yeah... I knew she wasn't the biggest fan of natural childbirth but I just really didn't think I would hear the words mandatory epidural - especially at 14 weeks. 

I went home and vented to my online pals and decided that, at the very least, I needed to find a doula to help support and advocate.  I found one that was close by the hospital I deliver at and sent her an email.  We chatted on the phone today for nearly 25 minutes and swapped stories and covered the reason why, after 2 healthy births, I was contacting her.  She was aghast that my OB would already be talking about birth interventions when I had no issues before.  She also kind of grumbled when I told her which hospital I deliver at and I asked her if the other major hospital in town was better for natural childbirth.  Turns out, they are equally "eh" when it comes to that, so I figured I was out of options.  Then, miraculously, she tells me of a hospital that is affiliated with my insurance that has a dream birth center complete with surgical staff in the event of an emergency.  They have birth tubs in all of the rooms, are very natural birth friendly, and the best part... wait for it.... Queen sized Murphy beds for postpartum use in addition to pull out beds for family!!!  My least favorite thing about birth is the 2 days I have to be in that awful hospital bed which is clearly not made for comfort.  Of course, my OB doesn't deliver there but this is going to give me an excellent reason (aside from the fact she wants to cut me already) to go elsewhere.  I am so sad that I have to consider leaving her, but there are just certain things, that if she isn't willing to have a complete change of heart, that are just deal breakers.  

Today I went to the RE's office for what will be my last appointment ever... unless we decide on a 4th baby.  I sat in an empty waiting room and as my favorite nurse and receptionist walked past the glass, the each gave me excited waves.  It was then that it hit me.  I was going to miss these people.  They have seen me in tears.  They have celebrated successes big and small with me.  Today, we celebrated a nearly 7 cm human being. 



I worte a post years and years ago about how when I was pregnant with Joey, I was 100% convinced that he was going to be a girl.  My pregnancy with Gavin was very uneventful but when Joey was on board, I was so so sick.  My symptoms were just completely opposite.  Opposite symptoms means opposite gender, right?  WRONG!  Right after my 20 week ultrasound when the tech said, "Do you see what I see?" and I responded, "Is that a penis?" with all of the enthusiasm of a sunbather seeing a storm rolling in, I had decided that this time, it would be team green for us.  I wanted the next time I learned the gender of the baby to be right after I gave birth to a wiggly, real baby. Plus, this time around I have added confidence that no matter the gender of this baby, God is sending me the perfect baby for this family.  Girl or boy, this baby was hand picked by Him.  No complaining will be done by me! 

Seeing as how I am only 13 weeks, I didn't feel it important to mention my team green desires.  As we chatted and looked over the baby, she suddenly stopped and said, "OH!  Do you want to..." and as a reflex, I immediately looked at the screen.  A look that I can never take back.  Since I couldn't unsee what I saw, I went ahead and asked, "We were going to be surprised this time, but was that a penis?"

She stammered and apologized for even calling attention before asking if we wanted to know and then went on to attempt to remove her foot from her mouth and said, "I thought I saw a penis but... (she again looked for the genitals) and said, "but you know what?  I don't see any testicles or anything so it is still 50/50."

*sigh*

So for a couple of hours I mourned our big surprise reveal on delivery day.  Then me and Google hung out for a while.  Turns out that boys and girls still really look the same at 13 weeks.  Some technicians can predict gender based on the "angle of the dangle" which means if the little nubbin points up it will be a boy and if it is parallel to the spine, it will be a girl.  What she and I saw was not the correct view to predict based on the angle.  After scouring the internet, I am feeling like we will still be 100% surprised.  Unless is is a boy then I am going to feel like I knew the whole time. So I am rethinking our whole team green thing.  We'll see. 

As I left the office they handed me some books and magazines as a gift and off I went.  Onward and upward to the OB's office next week. 

I also felt confident enough to make the pregnancy facebook public.  This was my "announcement."

Our Special Family Recipe:

2 cups of patience (separated into 96 tsp)
One barrel of faith
8 pounds of perseverance
400 tears (split equally between heartbreaks)
Countless prayers
Infinite support and love from friends and family
and
One very special angel smiling down on us from Heaven and keeping us safe.

Combine all ingredients. Bake for 40 weeks. 

We are very happy to share that after a long and sometimes heartbreaking journey, we will be welcoming baby #3 in September!

Will you or did you find out the gender of your baby before delivery day?  Why?