Friday, September 21, 2007

My Lovely Lady Lump: Week 20

Week 20.
18 lbs heavier than b.b.b. I might stop counting pretty soon.

Milestones this week: Half way there! Woohoo! Holy fuck. Ack.

So, today is my 32 birthday. My last sans child. Kind of creepy. To celebrate this, and our 1 year wedding anniversary (also this week) Crown and I are heading off into hurricane territory to take a much belated honeymoon/early babymoon in Cuba.

The Momes has been shipped off to Mom's. Let it be public knowledge that I dropped him off in almost perfect health. It's her turn to try not to kill him for a week. I miss him already. Isn't that pathetic?

Just finished my packing. Getting a much needed mani/pedi in the morning before we take off (thanks Chops for the gift certificate). Now am headed to bed. Can't wait to have our day of travel over and just get there and lie down. Think I'll just lie down for seven whole days. Bliss.

Sorry about the shitty picture this week - we've been too busy to snap a real one. Will do it up tropical styles next week.

Blog ya when I'm back, ya'll.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

My Lovely Lady Lump: 19 weeks

Week 19.

No idea how much heavier I am this week because I haven't made it to the gym even ONCE. And the gym is where the scale is. Mere fact that I haven't made it should give you some indication that things are probably not looking good on the weight gain front. Monday. Starting fresh.

Milestones this week. Ohhhh! A doozy! I had my 19 week ultrasound on Monday. Wow, Sir. Who knew it would be so intense? I kinda thought Crown and I'd go in, they'd rub that gooey wand on me for a few minutes, pronounce the gender of my baby and we'd shed a tear and giggle with joy and that would be that. Wrongo.

First of all that shit lasted almost an HOUR. Crown had to sit in the waiting room for about 58 minutes of it. My technician wanted to go on her lunch break and the chicken wasn't cooperating. Little bugger was facing down, towards my spine, so the tech couldn't get the facial shots she needed. She had me roll this way and that, get up and go pee, cough, more rolling... still nothing. So instead, while she waited for Baby to roll over, she just scanned and rescanned the kid. She must have counted those fingers like four times. She spent a lot of time looking at the "four chamber view" of the heart. I was just glad to hear that there were four.

Meanwhile, I stared and stared hard at her face, worried that if I took my eyes off her for an instant I would miss a flash of uncertainty or concern that might indicate that my baby had two heads or something. Not this woman though - she was a statue! My baby could probably have actually had two heads and she still wouldn't have so much as flinched.

Good news, my baby does not have two heads. Although the tech would not reveal a thing to us during the exam, I called my doc the next day to get the results and was thankfully informed that everything is 100% perfect.

Oh? And the part you're really waiting for? The part that the technician not only wouldn't tell us, but would hardly let us look at for ourselves on the screen? Not even pausing long enough to let us squint and stare and guess? Well, yes, I found that out as well.

Looks like this little chicken is a hen. We're having a baby girl.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Never Ending Story

Hey Peeps. Wanted to give a quick update on the status of the Momes.

Although we checked him out of the hospital last Wednesday (it just occurred to me that I never wrote down the whole story - sorry but can't tell it again right now. Too traumatic. Suffice it to say he was very, very ill.) and brought him home, seemingly back to his old self - he suffered a bit of a set back starting on Sunday. His condition continued to worsen and last night we had another night of hell.

His breathing was poor, his stomach was swollen and painful. His poo was, well, less than solid, let's say. He was lethargic and feverish. We suffered together through the night and brought him back in to the doc's first thing this a.m.

Apparently he has contracted a new infection, probably picked up during his hospitalization. He may or may not be suffering from a re-inflammation of of his pancreas, too. They are running new blood work to find that out and we should know tomorrow.

In the meantime, I have him at home, under watch and as you can see here - sick as he may be - he's still up for some smooching with Mama.

Mama, however, is not feeling up to very much at all. See below. I think I've had about 10 hours of sleep in the last three days. Not enough for a preggy. Not nearly enough. Ah, the things we do for our kids.

Monday, September 10, 2007

My Lovely Lady Lump: Week 18

(Sorry so late - I'm a week behind due to the worst week in recent history. Week 19 to follow shortly.)

Week 18.

15 lbs heavier than b.b.b., according to the scale at the gym last Friday. Hate the gym scale but don't have one at home so it will have to do. I swear it is a lying biotch.

Milestones this week: Survived a serious family crisis over the long weekend and everyone (The Momes included, thank God!) came out alive and kicking. In fact, the little chicken is really kicking! So much so that on Saturday night Crown was able to feel the first little punts right through my lower belly. This week the movements have definitely changed from a swooshing, rollercoaster-like flipflop feeling to real, defined little kicks and punches. I love it! It's fast becoming the best part of my day.

Also attended, participated in and finished my first step class since discovering the chicken. It was SO fun! I've been doing this same Friday afternoon step class for almost six years now and had really missed it. Was great to be back and feeling strong enough to work up a good, pre-preggy sweat. That's right, ya'll. Still got it.

Finally, me and Dings (did I mention she's preggers too? Due three weeks after me!) signed up for a prenatal Pilates class. Psyched. Can't wait to start it! Am love, love, loving the second trimester.

Sorry about picture quality. Because of the Moet Ordeal we weren't able to find the time to take a proper picture, so I took this self portrait using the MAC's Photo Booth feature. I feel like the bump has stopped growing out front this week and instead all the growth is happening out back in the "love handle" region. Not cute. Note strategically placed hands. Thank me, I'm sparing your eyes.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Love Like This

Dear Momo,

I still remember the day that I brought you home. It was, in fact, five years ago this past weekend. A beautiful sunny day in September, already a special month for me, made so much more so by your arrival.

You weighed only 2 tiny pounds that day, and could curl up quite easily in the palm of Daddy's hand, but already your personality was enormous. Much too big for such a little guy - bright and feisty and full, full, full of love.

You took us on as your new parents, as instant replacements for your own look-a-like, four-legged mommy, with an open and trusting little heart. That day, on our ride back to your new home, I promised you that we would love you and care for you and protect you always. All I ever wanted in return was the chance to smell your dirty dog smell and see you wag your tightly curled tail at me with love each time we crossed each other's path. I had no idea on that sunny day that you would give me those things and so much more.

We have had many trials as a family since you came into our home and changed our lives forever. Your kind is a fickle breed, more demanding than most, and your Daddy and I have been scared for your health and safety more than once.

There was the day you had surgery to remove a little bump from your chin, one that the doctor told us might be cancer. It wasn't. They took it off on your first birthday and Mommy stayed home and cried until I had you back safely in my arms. You pulled through.

One scary winter night, something happened in your tiny brain and a seizure sent us racing to the emergency room - you wrapped up in a towel, Mommy in her PJs and winter boots. They kept you that night and Daddy and I both cried when we had to leave you behind, unsure if you'd get better over night. This time the doctors told us the worst case scenario, "It could be encephalitis, " they said, "it's incurable." Once again you proved them wrong. We had you home the next day and we've never had another seizure since.

This weekend, my sweet boy, you decided to test the strength of our little family once again. Getting your squished little pug-nose in a place it didn't belong. And this time we almost didn't bring you home. This time when the doctor told me you might not survive the night, I believed her because I had held your tiny body in my arms as we rushed you toward help and I felt you slipping away. I felt it in my heart sweet Moet. And for what must have been the first time in my life, I felt my heart truly break.

Perhaps this is your own stubborn way of reminding Dad and I that you are our first baby? That although we are working toward bringing a new tiny member into our perfect circle, we are only making it a little bigger but no more round. And you are right Lil'Boss, you are first, you are loved, and I can not go into this next phase without you.

Because what you don't know is that what you brought into our lives that sunny day in September, just five short years ago, is something that can not be replaced or replicated by anything or anyone. You brought an indestructible sense of humour. Moet, you are so funny. There is nothing on this earth that can bring a smile to my face faster than you can. Even when you are being naughty we can't help but laugh with you. Sweet Momo, you may not know it, but you have been the light of our lives and taught us about real love. Because your brand is pure and unconditional, we had to learn that kind of love too. Even when you are frustrated or sad or sick, you give love. It's all that we can do to try, with all of our hearts, to give it back to you in full.

This next few days is up to you my little Moet. You have already beaten the odds. We thought we'd wake up Monday to news that you had left us, and instead we were all given a gift. A gift of one more day, and now another after that. I can't bring you home with me just yet, but Moet, I will do anything and everything in my power to get you back here with us as soon as possible. Back where you belong. Firmly routed in the center of our happy home. But you also need to know, that no matter what happens, you'll always, always remain in the center of our hearts.

I love you sweet Momo, more than you can know.