Growing My Human

*clarification*  This is not my human.

I am 24 weeks in this journey of growing a person.  I don't think of this as having a baby.  I truly think of it as growing a human.  It may sound strange, but that is after all what we mothers do.  We grow humans.  It sounds a little more complex than "having a baby".  Anyone can "have a baby".  It takes a real woman to "grow a human".  Obviously, I think that growing a human is more than getting pregnant, waiting 9 months (which is really 10, but I'll get into that later) and then heading off to the hospital for drugs and surgery and wham-o, there's a baby.  Growing a human is about taking your vitamins, exercising, getting enough sleep, using lotion to prevent stretch marks (seriously, that's an important one), going to your doctors appointments, getting your testing done... it seems to go on and on.  Therefore, I say, it takes a woman to grow a human.

Yesterday was my 24 week appointment.  I'm still in that stage where you go in for your checkups every 4 weeks.  Although, with this pregnancy there have been so many extra visits and blood tests and phone calls in between these 4 week checkups that I feel like the ob office should have me on speed dial.  You see, I'm old.  I'll admit it.  I am no longer a spring chicken.  (Do people say spring chicken in relation to age because spring chickens lay more eggs and older women have a harder time growing their humans just like older chickens don't lay as many or any eggs?  Hmmm, I never really thought about that before.)  I am 35 (yipes) and have reached that magic number where everything that revolves around age and pregnancy flips me automatically into "high risk pregnancy" category.  Strike 1.  I don't feel old.  In fact, there are quite a few days where I don't feel like I have much more than the mental capacity of a 14 year old.  (I pick 14 because my mother likes to tell me that when I was 14 I was the world's worst person... and she was right.  Hormones, high school, new friends, just having parents.  It was not pretty.  Sorry, Mom).  

While I have the mental capacity of a 14 year old and sometimes feel like the comprehension skills of a 14 year old, it should be known that because Lexy was born prematurely that I am, again, automatically flipped over into that "high risk pregnancy" category again.  Strike 2.  The doctors told me that her delivery and the complications surrounding it were a one in a million type of deal.  But, when I became pregnant this go round, they were nice enough to tell me that what happened before could happen again (in 10% of the cases).  And that because I have had one premature child that there is a good chance that every child I have will be born prematurely.  Gee, thanks for telling me that before people.  I mean, if I hit the 1 in a million lottery, maybe I'll fall neatly into the 10%.

And, the kicker.  There's that whole rH negative fiasco.  I'm not sure as to all the medical interactions and terminology, but basically I have a negative blood type, Josh has a positive blood type and when the two mix, if there is any blood crossing over to the baby my body could possibly reject the baby thinking that it's a foreign entity.  Strike 3.  I have plenty of rH antigens floating around in my blood stream to make more go from high risk to, as my doctor put it, even HIGHER risk.  I had a lot of spotting early on and for about 3 months with this kid.  Blood potentially crossing over to the baby.  And there were other complications.  I mean, geez.  If this kid wasn't trying to break severely of my ribs on the right side of my body on a regular basis, I'm not sure I would be thinking that this was an actual pregnancy and not just some figment of my imagination.

So, fast forward to 24 weeks.  6 months along (which is really 5 months because you don't really count those first 4 weeks or something).  Counting the months is confusing for me.  I'm not sure how they get 9 months from a 40 week pregnancy.  This appointment seems a bit silly.  Listen for the heartbeat, see how much weight mommy has gained, chat with the doctor.  Only this time my doctor measured my growing soccer ball of a stomach.  And I'm small.  Who knew that carrying small could be a problem?  Apparently, my doctor does, which is a good thing.  But, I don't feel small.  I mean, I feel like I'm walking around with that soccer ball with that feisty Barbie stuffed into it.  But, I guess that I am actually small.  And that could mean that on top of everything else that this little person has been through, it could be underweight.  After all my exercise, watching my diet to eat healthy food and fish and not limiting my chocolate intake, resting and all the other things I'm supposed to do, my little person, the one I feel like I'm working very hard at doing a good job to grow, may be a tinier than normal tiny person.  

Tomorrow is my 9 year anniversary.  I'm off to have more tests.  An ultrasound this time, just to make sure the weight is on track and that this little soul is growing in all the right ways.  I suppose that's a good anniversary gift, getting to see your baby.  I think I'll look at it that way.  My anniversary gift is getting to see my growing human.

But, geez, can't a person get a break.   

Celebration

April 26, 2003. Tonight we celebrate. What was the happiest day of my life to that point. The beauty of being with our family and our loved ones. Pledging to each other that we were a new family, together. Before each other and before God. And, gosh, I love that dress.

Auntie Carin

Dear Friends,

I feel comfortable letting the world know "I am going to be an AUNTIE!!!" I am thrilled to announce that my brother-in-law Matt and his lovely and beautiful wife Carol are expecting their first child. I am beyond excited. I have never been an auntie before, and as much as I like to claim Jennifer's boys as my own, they aren't technically related until Adam marries Lexy... or Todd marries Lexy (after all, the heir and the spare, right? Now she gets a choice... sorry, Adam), so, now I get to be an AUNTIE. I also feel comfortable letting everyone know that I was pregnant in this picture and the dress that was supposed to have been altered when I bought it totally didn't need to be and my face is totally "pregnant pudgy". But, enough about me and my self-concious weight issues.

I have one Aunt. She lives in Michigan and I don't really know her very well. Due to the distance I can't say that I'm very close with my family there, but I love her and my family and it's more than some can say to say that I have an aunt and an uncle. But, Matt and Carol and little baby matt/carol live in North Carolina and I plan on being as active as I possibly can considering we are approximately 10 hours by car. I'm hoping that we can bridge that gap with letters and emails and calls. I am hoping that this will bring Carol and myself closer together as sisters.

Carol is going to be an amazing mother. She is a kind and gentle soul and so intelligent, not to mention a true Southern Belle. I mean, the girl was in the Peace Corps for goodness sakes. In Africa. She's awesome. Totally needs to write a book. She's had life experiences that most people only dream about. I remember a bridal shower that was thrown in her honor where she asked me "am I doing okay, am I talking enough?". The sweetie didn't want to be the center of attention and was SO nervous and was checking with me, Mrs. Stage Fright, to see how she was "doing". Of course, she was doing outstanding and I told her so. Carol, you rock. I can't wait to see you as a Mommy. No offense to Matt, but Carol is growing a human and from now on she officially wins any arguements and gets full credit for anything she does.

I have no idea how to be an Auntie, so if anyone has any advice please let me know. I know that there are grandmothers and aunts reading this, so I expect more than 1 suggestion. I want to be the kind of Aunt that gets phone calls for advice and that the kids want to run away from home to see. I cannot wait!!!

Oh, and the due date? 3 days before my birthday. Sorry, Carol, but I would love to share my birthday with my little niece/nephew... so aim for the 10th. It's the best day in the world other than Jesus' birthday. And yes, that is a "Carin-ism".

Small Achievements

Dear Friends,

I have to let you know, I am constantly learning from Lexy. I know it's supposed to be the other way around, and I like to think that I do my fair share of teaching. But, it's true, she is always showing me something or reminding me of something from my past that I had long forgotten.

Yesterday Lexy learned how to blow bubbles for the first time. I know that's nothing big and kids have been blowing bubbles for years. But Lexy has been trying and trying and doing nothing but spitting and spitting for a few weeks. Since the weather has been so nice the last week or so, she and I have been spending a lot of time in our driveway or going for walks around the neighborhood. Well, I walk, she runs. But one of her favorite things to do outside is chase bubbles, and, lately, try to make them herself. Now, being the crazy anal ocd person that I am, I don't actually let her hold the bubble wand. Not yet. I am just not ready to go through 3 outfits a day or buy that much soap. So I hold the wand and she blows. And spits. And blows and spits and spits. And laughs hysterically and runs up and down the driveway. I've realized, she doesn't care so much about getting the bubbles as she does getting the chance to do something that she sees me doing. She just wants to try. And in the last day or two she has even gotten a few bubbles. Which, to her, has been one of the most amazing things anyone has ever done. She jumps up and down, squeals, says "YOU DID IT " (we're working on the difference between you and I) and runs up and down the driveway. She is so proud and it is so cute. She's reminding me that sometimes it's not the actual completion of a task that's important, but the attempt. Just because you can't do something doesn't mean that it's not fun to try.

Love to you all,

C

Holding Hands

Dear Friends,

I have written and rewritten the beginning of this post about 4 times already. It's not that I have nothing to write, but I have so many things bouncing around in my head that it's hard to choose. I have to say that that's kind of disturbing. I feel slightly schizophrenic.

There have been some big revelations in my life the last few weeks. One is that I'm not as good a friend as I thought I was. I missed a major event in the life of a girlfriend, which makes me cringe. This friend (who shall remain nameless because I'm not sure that she'd want to be the subject of a post or not), had her life turned upside down. Her husband walked out leaving her with their one year old to raise alone. I missed all of this. And what makes me feel the worst about it is that because her husband is friends with Josh, she thought that I had chosen her ex over her. I hate that she ever thought that, even for a minute. This event was actually an impetus for this blog. To keep better in touch with my friends and hope that they'll want to keep better in touch with me. Yes, this blog is giving me time to center and breathe, to come back to myself and to be something other than wife and mother... but what I'm really hoping to accomplish is to grow with my friends and have them grow with each other. This friend is one of the strongest women that I know and has risen to the occasion in a graceful and beautiful manner. I resolve to be a better friend, to stay in touch with friends far away, and to update this blog and to try and stick with it.

Revelation #2: Okay, so this isn't really a revelation. I've known this one for a while, but in light of yesterday's events I want to mention it. I am so incredibly blessed to have my girlfriend Jennifer in my life. She is one of the most supportive women that I have ever met. She is always available to listen, talk, vent to, and laugh with. She is strong, intelligent and beautiful. Not to mention, a total rock star. This amazing woman gave birth to her second child yesterday, a healthy and I'm sure, gorgeous baby boy. She amazes me because not only did she call me to let me know she was in labor, she called me after the baby was born.

She said "Carin, the epidural didn't work".
I of course replied, "What do you mean, it didn't work?" epidurals always work, don't they?
"I mean it didn't work. But I only had to push 3 times before the baby was out. And once the baby was out the pain stopped. You didn't have that when Lexy was born. I don't know how you did it."

There she was, in the hospital, just having given birth, no medication and she was telling ME that I'm amazing. She totally has it the other way around. She is the kind of person that is always putting others first and being supportive and loving in the most Christian manner. She is what I aspire to be. I am so proud that she is willing to hold my hand when I need it. Congratulations, Jennifer. Welcome to the world Baby Todd. I can't wait to meet you, I'm sure you'll be as amazing as your mother and your big brother, Adam (and your daddy John, we love him, too).

Revelation #3: Enlightenment comes from the smallest of sources and sometimes the most profound things do too. I was walking with Lexy up our stairs to brush her teeth before bedtime last night. She reached out to take my hand, asking for my help. When I took it and we stepped up I said "There, isn't that better when someone helps?" Okay, typically I'm not a deep and profound person, although sitting down to write lately is making me think in a more profound way (which is a tad scary). But, I have to say that that statement actually made me stop. It is so true. And how many of us actually take the time to ask for help instead of powering through and trying to figure things out on our own or having things be so much harder because we're afraid to ask for someone to hold our hand or ask God to hold our hand or to carry us. Do we feel ashamed because there are things we can't do for ourselves? I have to admit that I hate asking for help, I am the first to think I can handle most anything. I am too proud to admit when I need help, at work or at home. I hope that I'm not too proud to ask God for these things, if I can't bring myself to ask anyone else. I'm attempting to grow in this manner.

I love this poem, and I know everyone has read it. But, it just seems to fit this so perfectly I have to include it.

Footprints in the Sand

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.

This bothered me because I noticed
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.

So I said to the Lord,
"You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during
the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one
set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most,
you have not been there for me?"

The Lord replied,
"The times when you have
seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
is when I carried you."
Mary Stevenson


I would love to know if anyone else has any thoughts on any of the above. I hope I'm not musing and rambling to myself. I hope you all have a blessed day and have many revelations.

Love to you all,

C

Relaxation

I am sitting at the kitchen table, glass of wine on the right. It has been one of those days. Okay, I may post this in the am, so NO, it's not 6 in the morning and I'm sitting down with a glass of wine. I've started writing at 7:43 p.m. and Josh and I have just put Lexy to bed and I'm attempting to unwind after a day of "2".

For those of you without a 2 year old, and/or haven't watched tv lately to see any commercial with a 2 year old, or live under a rock, it means this: lots of "poopious", "mommy mommy mommy mommy", "mommy read it", playing with butter knives (yes, I took it away from her), climbing up to the kitchen table to grab said butter knife, whining when she was removed from the table and the knife was removed from her, feet on the table during dinner/kicking her high chair because it's funny... what else? Just being typically 2. Some days it's just too much. I want time to decompress and sit down, have a glass of wine, breathe, read a book that has more than 100 words, and the major one in this household for the moment, have a conversation that doesn't revolve around diapers or "poo poo or pee pee". Thank you mothers the world over the for the collective "Amen, Sister".

Josh found it hilarious when I relayed the "poopious" coffee coffee coffee incidient from the morning. This brought along many of the poopious comments for the evening. I do think, however, that I have discovered a new term that will clearly define many events of my life to come. I may even copyright it.

What I'm meaning to say is that I'm thinking that most mom's don't give themselves the opportunity for downtime, me time, quiet time, whatever you want to call it. I should have just told Josh "take her, it's your turn" and locked myself in the bathroom with a good book and a ton of bubbles (which, by the way, is where I'm going when I'm done writing this). I'm not sure why I didn't, but I should make myself the promise to do it more often. Not that Josh doesn't do a lot, and it's not like the 4 days of the week I get to be a stay-at-home mom I have the opportunity to be too frustrated, but it does happen. I think all my friends that are moms and one-day-to-be moms and even women who just take care of there family without kids need to make the committment to themselves to have some down time. It ensures sanity, so I've been told.

I have the opinion that part of this revolves around the low-self esteem, body issues, depression, and general insanity that a lot of women have. We don't take time to celebrate ourselves in a meaningful way. And to me, this differs for every woman. Whether it be a phone call to a friend, a slumber party, a glass of wine and a good book, or just a good book, I think women don't take enough time to think of themselves instead of others. I'm not promoting self-centeredness. But, I do think that in general, most women are caregivers and not care takers. Sometimes it best to let someone take care of you or to take a few minutes to take care of yourself.

I hereby allow myself to have "me time". I will get pedicures without feeling guilty for leaving Lexy with Josh. It's good time for them to bond. And I won't worry about the mess I'll have to clean up when I get home. If I need to go shopping, I won't feel guilty about spending money on new jeans for myself and not spending that money on Lexy or the house. I want all my friends to do the same for themselves. We are important. If we don't take care of ourselves, who will take of others when we can't? I will take time to breathe.

Oh, and yes, Lexy peed on the floor tonight.

Cribbing From a Friend

Dear Friends,

I thought that when I initially had the idea to start a blog of my own that I had so many thoughts and ideas in my head that I would have no problem picking something to start with. I have a problem. I'm thinking I have zero creativity. Once this page came up there became nothing in my head. No comprehensive thoughts, no ideas, no funny stories. Just a blank page and my inability to spell. Thank goodness God had someone create spell check.

I follow momastery, which is amazing and I highly recommend it to every woman (and man) out there. I was thinking I would steal from lovely G and write something about myself... if you're interested. (sorry, G, but imitation is the highest form of flattery).

1. I have been married for almost 7 years. 7 years seems like a really really really long time and yet, it doesn't seem like that long at all.
2. I would love more than anything to be a stay-at-home mother. I have the most beautiful 2 year old daughter and I would do almost anything to raise her full time. I work part-time at the same job I've held for over 9 years.
3. Apparently, I love hyphens. And long-term (oh, geez, there's another one) relationships.
4. No matter how much I clean my house, how many times I make donations to charities or fill up the trash can, I cannot for the life of me get rid of the stacks of paper in my house. No, I'm not a hoarder, I really do get rid of things. I just can't seem to get rid of enough of it I guess.
5. It drives me absolutely crazy that my husband will not keep his socks off the floor.
6. Sometimes I wonder if I'm making my daughter OCD. She tells me to "clean it up" and "put it away" on a regular basis. I really am just trying to keep her books from making my living room completely impassable.
7. I shouldn't make any comments about the number of books my daughter has, I probably have 5 times as many in various stacks and bookshelves around my house.
8. I love Coach bags and have far too many of them, and yet not enough. I have also never purchased one for myself, but have always managed to receive them as gifts. Yes, any item from Coach will be willingly accepted, no questions asked.
9. I am in love with the beach. Any beach, anywhere, on any ocean. It doesn't really matter, as long as it's the beach. One day I will live at the beach. Really. I will.
10. 10 is my favorite number.
11. I have had one best friend (I love you Shelley) since I was 16 years old (wow that's another of those long-term relationships) and another since college (I love you, too, Jennifer!). Both keep me grounded and sane. Both make me laugh. Both make me feel loved. Both know far too many secrets about me... although, maybe they have forgotten.
12. I had no idea that I would be able to write this much about myself. I feel decidedly average the majority of the time and this absolutely amazes me.
13. I love to shop, but I have no particular style I can claim as my own. I would love to be surprised with a makeover from the Today show, just so I can have a starting point.
14. I had braces for 6 1/2 years. That's right, all through high school and through 2 year of college. Maybe that's where some of the low self-esteem comes from. And, yes, my teeth are amazingly straight now.
15. I am addicted to coffee. No, I will never give up this addiction, it tastes way too good and it keeps me functioning. Yes, I know it's an addiction, although I choose to think of it as a lifestyle choice.
16. I refused to drive a mini-van after my daughter was born, so we ended up with an SUV. I am far too young for a mini-van (although, lately, I've been thinking that we should have got one).
17. My husband wants to teach my daughter and myself to ski next year and the idea of both terrifies me.
18. There is someone in my family I am supposed to love and I can't for the life of me make myself do it.
19. I am left handed.
20. I have never once dyed my hair.

I think there may be more, but the kid just woke up from her nap and for once it is BEAUTIFUL outside and who am I to keep her from being out in it.

Love to you all,

Carin