So it's NORMAL to be sick your whole pregnancy!

I've heard so much conflicting info about illnesses and your immune system while pregnant.  Before my pregnancy with Adalyn, I thought what I'd heard - that our immune systems are actually stronger while pregnant - was true.  And it made sense to me since I didn't get sick at all (or maybe once or twice that I can't remember) with Ben's pregnancy.

Adalyn's pregnancy was rough on my health.  I was sick a lot.  Though in going through old blog posts, my suspicions were confirmed that I was sick much less frequently with her pregnancy than this current one.  

I brought it up with my last OB who told me it's a myth that women have stronger immune systems during pregnancy - it's actually quite the opposite.  But she didn't explain why and I didn't seek out any more information.

Until today.  I am on my eight billionth 12th or 13th illness (all either stomach bugs or colds/flu) since getting pregnant.  And when I do get sick, it's much worse than normal and it lasts forever and a day.  My longest reprieve from illness has been a week and a half.  That is just nuts.  Feeling extreeeeemely frustrated, I finally decided to take to the interwebs to figure this mystery out.

Turns out my last OB was right.

Pregnant women have suppressed immune systems.

It makes sense.  Our bodies need to suppress our immune systems because it keeps our bodies from fighting off our babies - essentially, foreigners to our body.  Right.

It also makes sense that you get sick more often with each subsequent pregnancy.  You have more kids at home bringing you germs, you're out more often and, well, your body isn't quite as awesome as it was before with yet another pregnancy under its belt.

Don't be stupid and give your body 7 whopping months to recover from its last pregnancy, though, or mark my words: you will regret what happens.  If this pregnancy doesn't actually kill me, I will be surprised.  

There's your PSA for the day.  If you find yourself sick more than you're not while you're pregnant, don't freak.  It's normal.  It'll get better once you're holding your baby in your arms.  :)

24 weeks!

Viability point in pregnancy is always relieving.  Happy to have made it here!

Like I said earlier last week, I am quite miserable.  I know this is all more than worth it.  I have two amazing children to remind me of that.  But man, each pregnancy is so much tougher than the one before!  Exhaustion, horrible eczema, pain that's started much earlier, ravenous appetite, returning morning sickness.  Dizziness.  It's just been a real joy.  No sarcasm, of course.  ;)

I'm placing my official bet on this being a girl now.  I know I've wavered so much back and forth most of this pregnancy, but this one is shaping up to be so similar to Adalyn's that I just have to go with girl (although it could just be more similar to hers because it's my third pregnancy and hers was my second and each one is tougher on the body, but that's my official guess).  Especially with the returning morning sickness that has me actually throwing up at 24 weeks.  Blech.  

The kicks have reached that point of physically hurting but also becoming visible on the outside, which is a super fun point in pregnancy.  Tim finally gets to be part of it!  He can feel them and see them.  

Nothing else to report except that I went through a HUGE growth spurt in the past two weeks.  It's not quite as obvious in these pictures as reality, but overnight I grew out of all my size small pants and my belly just exploded!  For fun, let's compare 12 weeks to 24.  :)

And because I am the dorkiest pregnant woman ever, I totally just dug up my 24/25 weeks pictures from my other pregnancies since I had a sneaky suspicion that I was much smaller with Adalyn at this point.  I was totally right.  Sigh.  Maybe this is a boy afterall?  I look much more like I did with Ben at this point.

Why can't I stop overanalyzing everything?!

Frustration.

My heart is breaking.  My little baby girl can no longer get what she needs from me.  

I had supply issues with Ben.  I might have caused them by thinking I had supply issues when I actually didn't and supplementing.  Who knows.  I never will know.  But I do know that around 7 months, I had totally dried up and he was exclusively formula fed.  It was really tough for me.  

As a mom, we often wrap our security up in how well we can (or can't) provide for our children.  Just as I've heard some moms talk about the depression that accompanies premature birth - feeling that their bodies aren't capable of carrying their babies as long as they need to be carried - I've heard many moms talk about the failure they feel when their bodies don't produce enough milk.  

I'm one of them.  I made it my mission to make milk this go 'round.  And things were going beautifully until I unintentionally got pregnant again.  Shortly after getting the positive test, I noticed some serious changes in the nursing department.  About a month ago, I suddenly went from being able to pump 4 ounces to only drops.  While they say pumping output isn't indicative of the amount of milk baby is getting, when one goes from pumping 4 ounces to pumping nothing overnight while also being pregnant, it's pretty safe to assume there was a massive supply drop.  This accompanied a sudden loss of letdown (haven't felt it once since that day a month ago when I was able to pump only a few drops) and the gut feeling of emptiness.  She only swallows once or twice during an entire nursing session.  She wakes up 5 or 6 times at night to eat.  She's only having a couple of wet diapers a day.  I want to think it's in my head, but I can't anymore.

And so, with a heavy heart, I called her doctor yesterday.  Her clothes seem to be getting looser, she doesn't have enough wet diapers and she absolutely, positively WILL NOT drink formula.  I even tried the Dr. Sears recipe for goat's milk formula, which just tastes like sweet milk.  She absolutely, positively WILL NOT drink that, either.  People say, "Oh just give it time!  She'll come around to it!"  They don't seem to understand that this has been going on for two months.  If she hasn't come around to it yet, can I have any faith that she will?  

Maybe if she ate tons of food, I'd feel less like a failure as a mama.  But just as she's picky about her milk, she's picky about her food, too.  She eats mostly purees, though she has begun to dabble in the world of real food in the last week or two, eating tiny bites of things like bread and fruit.  I still can't get vegetables in this girl to save my life, but I'm trying not to lose hope on that, either.  

It's tough for me because I already failed once.  I thought after 8 months of successful breastfeeding with Adalyn that we were golden.  What could possibly go wrong?  I even read that most pregnant women don't see too much of a supply drop right away, so I figured I'd make it to her first birthday before watching this disaster unravel.  

Being able to provide for your children in such a basic way is something I wanted so, so badly.  I wanted to be like all the other women I know who have no problems being the sole provider for their children.  And once I was five or six months into breastfeeding this time, after reading article after article, I was convinced that I never would have had supply issues with Ben if I had had more support.  As a first-time mom, it's so easy to be scared you're not making enough.  After all, we can't visibly see how much our babies are eating, so how can we be certain they're getting enough?  Couple that with the weight gain issues Ben experienced and the hypoallergenic formula the doctor had us put Ben on when he had blood in his poop around 1.5 to 2 months and I was totally dejected.  I just knew I didn't have enough for him, so I continued supplementing with formula, and then not pumping enough, and I probably was solely responsible for my loss of supply with him.  Since I had that all figured out, I had just come to assume I would be nursing Adalyn until at least a year, probably longer.  

I was wrong.  And I think it stings a little more because I thought I had it all figured out.

There are many reasons we shouldn't get pregnant before our babies are a year old.  Our bodies need time to recuperate (I just read recently that a study shows this baby has a 40% chance of being born premature because I got pregnant too soon - awesome, Chelsea).  And our babies need breastmilk!  I guess my body is so focused on making this baby that it just can't make milk, too.  One would think that the very fact I've gained nine pounds already says I'm eating more than enough to be making milk and a baby, but I guess not.  

The reality is that she'll live.  I know that.  She'll get hungry enough that she'll take formula or she will get by on purees until she learns how to eat more real food.  Hopefully the doctor can give us some pointers to get more liquid in her so she doesn't get dehydrated.

Please God, if you're listening, let me be able to provide for this next baby.  I don't think I can take a third failure!

For anyone else who has also had supply issues, how did you get past the feeling of failing as a mama?

EDITED FOR UPDATE: So the doctor says stop nursing, give her cow's milk.  Since she hates formula and goat's milk, I'm not assuming she'll love cow's milk but it's worth a shot, right?  But STOP NURSING.  Stop nursing.  :(

That was the last thing this hormonal pregnant gal wanted to hear today.  I don't know why, but ending nursing is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do and I'm not ready to go through that again.  I wasn't hormonal and pregnant the last time I had to do it and even then I about had a breakdown.  I can only imagine how swimmingly well it'll go this time. 

SURPRISE ADDITION!

The past 8 weeks have been LONG & drawn out.  

Business has been slow.  By my own doing.  

I even closed up the etsy shop for a few weeks while I slowly but surely caught up on orders.

I haven't made much of a peep here on this blog.

It's as though The Blue Swirl just dropped off the face of the planet.

And so did I.

But there's a good reason for that.

A very good, exciting and sure-to-be-adorable reason for that.

Baby #3!  

Eight weeks ago, we were surprised (no, shocked!) with a positive pregnancy test.  We are so excited for the opportunity to make our family of four a family of five, but it was a surprise and took a little time to adjust to.

There was some not-so-fun first trimester stuff.  There were some scary things, and then, some exciting things.  I've got myself a baby bump.  I felt a flutter or two the other day, I just swear I did!   

But all the while, I've been too wiped out to do much of anything.  Thanks for being patient with me.  Adding another bundle of joy to our family is something to get pumped up about, but is going to change how much I'm able to do here at The Blue Swirl.  I haven't decided exactly how it's all going to work out best, but expect to see a few changes in policies over the next few weeks.  I will still work as hard as I'm humanly able to create for YOU, but the late nights I was keeping before (think 2:00 a.m. on a mostly daily basis) are just no longer possible.  

I appreciate ALL your business and understanding!  As I'm heading into the second trimester now, I'm hopeful for that big burst of energy!  :)

XOXO!

Why yes, I'm having a baby at home.

This post could be controversial.  I hate that I have to preface it this way, but I ask that you please keep any nasty/hateful comments to yourself.  We may have different birthing philosophies and that's okay.  I won't judge yours if you don't judge mine.  :)

Shortly after I found out I was pregnant with Ben, I got word of a new documentary called The Business of Being Born.  I also happened to have a friend preparing for a home birth at this same time, so it was really fresh on my radar.  

I was as far from "crunchy" as one could be at this time.  I drank lots of pop, ate lots of crap, was incredibly wasteful, used endless amounts of chemicals on my body, our home, in our food.  I was just blissfully unaware.  

But I was a newly pregnant mama, and that changes your brain.  It really does.  Suddenly you want to change everything about your life that won't provide a perfect environment for your child.  

And so I watched The Business of Being Born.  And that little documentary changed my life.  It didn't just convince me of a broken birthing system, it rocked my world.  It changed my philosophy on everything.  It was the first step in a desire to learn about my baby and my body and my food and my environment.  

I wanted a home birth.  I wanted it so badly.  But my husband didn't and my mom didn't and I'd had surgery on my cervix not too long before getting pregnant, so after time, I realized that I probably wasn't the best candidate and even if I was, I couldn't change my husband's mind.  And he's half the equation.  So I had a hospital birth.  And honestly?  It was a pretty good experience.  My doctor was hyper-paranoid and ordered ultrasounds at almost every appointment which I'm not a fan of - ultrasound technology is still fairly new in the scheme of things and they used to say that x-rays were safe for babies too - until they learned they weren't.  You see, that's how we do things in this country.  Did you know that in America, a chemical is assumed safe until it's proven harmful?  A company does not have to prove the safety of a chemical.  HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?! 

Anyway, aside from the mega exposure to ultrasounds, I liked that experience.  They were sweet, doting and accommodating to my desires, but I did feel pressured into the epidural as they kept telling me that the anesthesiologist was at home and that it would take a bit so if I wanted one, I should go ahead and make that decision.  But really, I can't complain.  It was a beautiful birth and a wonderful experience and it taught me that my body carries and births babies well and that I would be a good candidate for a home birth in the future.  Something to get excited for!

Fast forward to Adalyn's pregnancy.  Both Tim and I were on board this time, but we kind of dropped the ball.  I kept putting off making an appointment and before you know it, I'm 12 weeks pregnant.  I finally called the only midwife I knew of and she said she'd call me back.  Only weeks and weeks went by and I never heard from her.  So I called her again.  Again she didn't call me back.  By that point, I was 17 or 18 weeks pregnant and we just gave up on the idea, called an OB and that was that.  I later found out the one midwife I chose to call was one who has taken on WAY too many patients and is not recommended by anybody else in town now.  

This time, I don't have a good hospital birth.  At 38 weeks while I'm complaining about my comfort level, my OB asks, "Well, do you want me to go ahead and induce you?"  I thought I was going to faint!  My doctor was just offering up an induction at thirty-eight weeks (!!!) for discomfort level only.  Not because baby was in distress or my bp was high or there was some indication that baby needed to come out now.  Nope.  Just because I hurt.  Because, you know, no other pregnant woman hurts at 38 weeks.  Most hospitals in the country are moving away from unnecessary inductions because they're just that: unnecessary.  Why should we mess with God's plan merely because we're uncomfortable?  If there's a reason to take baby and baby is better off outside of the womb earlier than God would have, hey, I'll support that.  But to offer up an induction to a vulnerable woman who is at her wit's end and uncomfy as all get-out is dangerous and irresponsible.  I am quite crunchy these days, in case I haven't made that obvious, and even I toyed with the idea!  Half of me was shocked and the other half was like, Hmm, maybe I should just do it!  Luckily my smarter half convinced my vulnerable half to say no.

Then she wanted to give me pitocin when I was dilated to 5 because she was afraid the baby would come too fast.  I pretty much begged her to just break my water instead because pitocin scares me (statistically speaking, your risk for other interventions is quite large after getting pitocin and I'm just plain scared of the painful labor that I've heard pitocin induces), but she wouldn't have that.  So I went home and was told to come in with the next contraction, which happened a day or two later.  

Then they broke my water.  I can't fault them for this because I asked for it.  That was on me.  I was going for the "natural induction" route and while it's not totally accepted within the "crunchy" circles, I'm not really opposed to it when all signs point to "baby is ready!" (I was 6 cm dilated, fully effaced, etc., but not in labor). In hindsight I wouldn't do it again because I am at a different place in my life now - one in which I would prefer to trust God's timing and not my own - but I wasn't quite there yet during this time and I was impatient and fearful.

When my doctor broke my water and it got on her, she jumped back with this horrified, disgusted look on her face.  Like, how DARE I!  Because she's an OB doctor and somehow that's not a regular part of her working life?  This was after rolling her eyes at me when I told her I needed to potty before she broke my water.  She was annoyed at me that I had not done this before she got in the room because I was wasting her time, you know?

I asked for several things in my birth plan that were not honored.  I asked that they not cut the cord until it had stopped pulsing (something that is becoming increasingly accepted and even if they didn't buy into the philosophy that baby needs that last surge of blood, they could and should have humored me as it was in my birth plan).  They didn't honor that.  I asked that baby be bathed in our room for her first bath.  They refused that.  They took my brand new baby away from me to bathe her.  That was the last straw - that was the moment that I realized I could never birth a baby in a hospital again, unless circumstances dictated that it was NECESSARY.  I don't believe normal, healthy births HAVE to be done in a hospital.  Now, I don't think there's anything wrong with hospital births if that's where you feel most comfortable and you won't find me judging someone for having one.  I did!  Two of them, to be exact!  But for me, this time around, I want to experience birth as I believe it was intended to be, and I hope that having a home birth will facilitate that.

I feel the need to write this post because there are people who have been very vocal about their beliefs that home births are stupid, risky and uninformed.  I could have just said, "Hey, I'm having a home birth!" and that's that.  But I know I would have to brace myself for some comments that would hurt my feelings and some disrespect and honestly, some misinformed viewpoints.  I know this post sounds like a giant justification.  It really isn't, but it is a plead to respect every woman's right to birth as she wants without rolling your eyes, judging or vocally expressing your distaste for her choice.  I do feel the need to explain myself because I know what the common conception is and I've already received several strange looks and a few disagreeing scowls.

You have every right not to choose to home birth.  We should all choose to have our babies in the place that makes us most comfortable.  For me, that's my home.  

But I don't feel you have a right to tell me I'm endangering my child by birthing at home.  Unfortunately, the studies on the matter are flawed.  Most studies say that home birth is as safe as hospital birth and results in far fewer interventions, but people question the validity of these studies.  A few studies claim that infant mortality is higher among the home birth group, but people question the validity of these studies, too.  I wish there were a definitive answer.  The best answer I find comes from the studies on OTHER countries - ones with much lower infant mortality rates and much higher home birth percentages.  We're one of the few countries in the world that decided to consider birth a problem that needed fixing by modern medicine.  

My heart and my soul tell me to birth this baby at home.  I'm kind of old fashioned in a lot of my beliefs.  I do tend to err on the side of "if we did it in the old days, it must be the right way!"  Years of frustration with our current system (food system, chemical system, government, parenting, etc.) have tainted my views and shaped me.  

Until very recently (in the scheme of things), women didn't birth in the hospital.  We've been birthing at home since the dawn of time. 

I don't want interventions if unnecessary.  I'm not so prideful that I would forbid them.  I'm not so prideful that I will refuse to go to the hospital if baby has low fetal heart tones or something is obviously wrong.  I believe that hospitals can be a wonderful thing when needed and I'll have no shame transferring to a hospital if need be.  There's one quite close, as we discovered a few months ago when rushing Ben there after he ate peanuts.  

But I don't want a c-section because a doctor is tired of waiting on me and wants to go home.  I don't want pitocin becuase my labor isn't progressing fast enough to make my doctor happy.  I don't want the cord clamped immediately and my baby whisked away from me for his or her first bath.  I want to give birth to my baby in a quiet, peaceful, dark, COMFORTABLE environment surrounded by people who love me and my baby.  I want my husband to help (and most importantly, he wants to help) and I want to do what feels right and natural.  

When I was ready to push with Adalyn, they told me to hold it to wait for the doctor.  If you've birthed a baby, particularly without an epidural (I say this because I never experienced the need to push with my epidural birth, which I think is common), you know that there is no "holding it."  When baby is ready, baby is ready.  You don't control pushing - your body does.  Then they FORCED me onto my back to push her out regardless of my pleading not to make me.  Rolling onto my back felt so horribly painful I honestly thought it would kill me.  I cannot find the words to describe that pain.  Every time I would try I would be hit with horrendous pain, and the pain would immediately lessen when rolling back to my side.  But that wasn't convenient for my doctor, so she forced me into the most unnatural position a woman can be in for labor. 

When I met with the first midwife we interviewed this week, we talked about birthing in WHATEVER POSITION I WANTED.  WHEREVER I WANTED!  Imagine!  I get to do what I want!  And really, doesn't that seem like the most natural way for labor to progress?  Doesn't it seem like something God equipped us to be able to do?  I think we women don't give ourselves enough credit that we know how to get baby out.  We're so brainwashed into the idea that we need to be flat on our backs taking orders from our doctor that we don't think to question that.  

I am the perfect candidate for home birth.  I have had two normal, uneventful pregnancies, produced two healthy babies, had a natural birth and quick labors.  As far as risk factors go, I have almost none.  I will have the 20 week ultrasound to check for heart defects, deformities and anything else that would make the hospital the safest place to birth this baby.

I don't feel I'm naive, uninformed, stupid or risking my baby's life. I have thought long and hard about this, I have taken in as much knowledge as I can soak up and I am ready for this!  In eight months, that is...

:) 

Number three...

So last week we had a moment like this:

When we saw this:

But we thought, no, impossible...right?  

I mean, this is one of those $0.25 tests so it's probably wrong.  Because this really is impossible.  No problem.  We would just make a quick trip to the store to pick up a $20 digital test (I mean, really?  TWENTY DOLLARS?!) and it would be confirmed that the test was wrong.  So a digital test and a regular test later and I'm staring at these:

And then there is no denying it.  It is not impossible.  It is our new normal.

And...

We couldn't be happier!

So happy and so excited, in fact, that we just can't keep it in.  I know I'm supposed to be PC and wait the 12 weeks.  But Tim and I found ourselves blurting it out to everyone we came in contact with.  And now, we might as well make it official.  Also, I started showing the second I got a positive test (funny how that happens when it's your third and you're really short) so there is just no way I'd make it to 12 weeks!

We had a day of panic and then God gave us total peace about this.  This baby was meant to be.  This baby has a purpose and my heart is just so happy.  God has a plan and it may not always be the same plan I have for my life, but you know what?  I love that.  I embrace that.  I can't wait to meet this gift in late May/early June.   

And this time, FOR SURE, we will not find out the gender.  :)

And now I can finally start pinning all these maternity tutorials I've been dying to try! 

PS - 

Yesterday's post, UPDATED!

As predicted, I'm still sitting at 1 cm dilated and not effaced one single bit.  My doc was all chipper about it, like, "Oh wow, you're 1 cm dilated!  That's great!"  I looked at her blankly like, "Woman, don't mess with all 3,000 lbs of me right now."  I guess it would be great if I didn't have all my stats from Ben's pregnancy written down and easily accessible for me to obsess about.  At this same point in my pregnancy with Ben, I was 2 cm dilated and EIGHTY PERCENT EFFACED, which is what's supposed to matter more anyway.    So that settles it.  I will absolutely not be early this time around and I can plan on knowing what it feels like to be 40+ weeks pregnant.  If someone had been kind enough to ask me, I would have preferred to go late the first time, when I wasn't absolutely miserable and in pain almost every minute of the day.  But, you know, it's whatever.

I suppose she's also going to be a monster.  The doc thinks she's 6.5 - 7 pounds already and I was measuring two weeks ahead.  And obviously, judging from yesterday's picture, she IS a giant!

Let me just sprinkle a little positivity into my life, though.  I will enjoy these last few weeks as a family of three.  I'll soak up every ounce of one-on-one time with Ben that I can get and I will stop obsessing over every cramp, contraction, etc.  I'll start appreciating the kicks, even the ones that leave me clutching the nearest piece of furniture.  Because I know that once she's here, I'll miss them like crazy.  There's something about having a child inside you that is just indescribable.  Even in the throws of horrendous pain, just knowing that she's always with me is...awesome.

Big ole' bellies.

Pregnant bellies!  What can I say, I'm a sucker for pregnant bellies.  Even my own!  Which is why, although I've slacked on almost all other parts of this pregnancy in comparison to Ben's, I still take my weekly belly pictures.  My favorite part toward the end is comparing them, week to week.  For me at least, that's when I notice the most difference.  I was shocked to see the difference between this week's picture and last week's, though!  Girlfriend definitely changed her position.  I feel like she's dropped a little (in other words, I can breathe!), but I'm not sure now if she dropped or if she just grew straight out!  Anyway, appease me.  :)



Tomorrow I have my first "official" cervix check.  I've already been checked twice thanks to contractions, though, so my money is on still being 1 cm dilated.  We shall see!  This is where the pregnancy gets REALLY exciting!

Baby Girl's Nursery!

Well, we've finally gotten her room cleared out. Tim still wants to discuss the idea of having the kiddos share a room, which makes sense, but the logistics are just overwhelming me so I'm pretty stuck on the idea of separate rooms...at least until he finds a way to convince me otherwise. So anyway, for now, here's what I have in the works!

First, the empty(ish) BEFORE room:









We'll be painting it this color (Aviary Nest) courtesy of FreshAire:



And I'll be making some curtains and a bedskirt with this fabric, courtesy of Michael Miller:



I'm going to stick with a basic dark pink bed sheet to keep it from being too crazy in the room. I'm thinking this color:



As for a rug, I'm CLUELESS. If I do a smaller pink rug that matches her sheet, is that too much? I'm afraid tan will clash with the floor/walls if it's not the same shade. I think it'd be almost impossible to find a green rug the color of the curtains. I don't know, I'm not all design-y, so I'm totally open to ideas here! What about a pink and brown and cream striped one? Too many different patterns? Obviously I won't be on Design Star anytime soon.

The glider is also up for discussion. We really cheaped out on Ben's and you can tell. It squeaks and it's uncomfy as all get-out. I've already decided to pool together all my Christmas money for a good, solid, comfortable glider. After all, I have zero doubt I'll be spending A LOT of time in that thing. So here's where I need another opinion. Do I go basic with a light tan like this:



Or a little bolder with a chocolate like this:



Or all out with a green to match her curtains:



And of course, no potential design dream is complete without a mood board, so voila!



Thoughts? Opinions? You totally won't hurt my feelings!

Halloween recap and fingers crossed for another early (but not TOO early) labor!

Halloween was a blast! We took part in several festive activities, starting with a trip to Missouri to hang out with our friends and attend a Halloween-themed library storytime. In true Chelsea form, I had my camera on me the whole time but forgot to snap a single picture. So you'll just have to take my word for it. Following that theme, a few days later I'm getting Ben ready for our playgroup's Trunk-or-Treat event when I realize that half of Ben's adorable monkey costume has mysteriously gone missing. A few frantic texts later and I realize it's in Missouri. Brilliant Mommy left half of my son's costume out-of-town!

Enter a friend to the rescue! Ben sported a bear costume, complete with pink bow, loaned to us by a great friend. He then busted his head open and that same friend rescued us again with a pink Hello Kitty band-aid. Hey, we have no shame in this house! Nothing wrong with a little pink action for my son. Trunk-or-Treat was great! Everyone decorated their trunks and the kids went from car to car collecting candy and unleashing some pre-bedtime energy. Because I just can't seem to get things right, I of course forgot the camera for this event but managed to snap one semi-decent picture with my phone.

Sunday night we sat by the window, waiting anxiously for the first trick-or-treaters to make their appearance on our sidewalks. Hey, we're new to this, we don't know what we're doing and we didn't want to be the first ones out and about! And it's a good thing we waited, because we thought 5:30 was a good trick-or-treat time. Turns out we were way wrong. It was close to 7:00 before people hit the streets. So off we went. It took Ben a little time to warm up to the idea, but once he realized that he could go up to someone's door, mumble "trckerhumphjasdf" and they'd give him candy, his eyes lit up.

It also turns out that Ben inherited my love of all things chocolate. Totally unsure of his costume at first, once we bribed him with a Kit-Kat he was all smiles. He may look nothing like me, but he has my good taste!

In other news, yesterday was my 29 week check-up! It's hard to believe we're already here, at the appointment-every-two-weeks mark. Soon we'll be down to weekly! Everything looks fine and the appointment was as boring as ever, but I did get some half exciting/half nerve-racking news. Monday night I had some intense contractions. Nothing like a braxton hicks but everything like my real labor contractions with Ben. They lasted a few hours but never got regular so I brushed them off. My OB decided to check me yesterday and announced that I was 1 cm dilated. She said it's not concerning since this is my second and I was early with my first. She also said my cervix is still thick, which is the most telling. So I'm trusting her on that and keeping my fingers crossed that this means she'll be a little early like her brother and it'll be another quick (albeit PAINFUL) labor.

Finally, I think I did a million of these little belly slideshows during my pregnancy with Ben. I guess the second time around, you just slack more, huh?

Am I going to survive motherhood?

Aye, aye, aye. I find it really annoying when people go on and on and on about all the crap in their lives without ever focusing on positives. Lately, though, I feel like I've been doing just that. And I hate it, but now I get it. Sometimes you just want some old fashioned sympathy. You just want someone else to say, "Wow, that's tough. I'm sorry."

The past few weeks have been nothing short of miserable. I've been getting extreeeeemely uncomfortable and I'm only 27 weeks pregnant, ya'll. I absolutely didn't hit this point with Ben until much, much later.

Then there's the whole insomnia issue. Seems that while I was spared of it with my first pregnancy, I didn't get so lucky this time around (I was spared of lots of things the first time around that I've had to deal with this time, as a matter of fact). I wake up every two hours to pee and it takes me a good 20 to 30 minutes to get back to sleep at the earliest. TORTURE, I tell you. Because an hour and a half later, I'm up again. Oh, and then there's that pesky little my-child-wouldn't-sleep-if-his-life-depended-on-it thing going on, too. Once I get up with him, that's it. I'm done. There's no hope that I can fall back asleep again.

Then there's the illness factor. I don't know WHAT is up, but yours truly, the one who rarely gets sick, is always sick now. Let's see, at 7 months pregnant I've been sick eight times. That's not right. Last week a stomach bug ravaged our house and left Tim, Ben and I in its dust. We were sick as dogs. I lost eight pounds in two days! This week? Why yes, this week we're sick again. Now we have colds. Wait, didn't I just get over a cold? Ah, that's right. A month ago! Does it ever end?

Tim went out of town on another business trip this week, and as comically as ever, of course the world caved in (let's see, in the past it's been a flooded basement, sewer back-up in the laundry room, etc., etc., etc.). Ben had a particularly rough night on Monday that left me with a grand total of one hour of sleep. I wiped the sleep outta my eyes and put on my big girl pants. I had my glucose test for gestational diabetes, so I packed the kiddo and I up and decided to brave a blood draw with a toddler all by myself. It couldn't be that bad, right? Ha! I'm being punished. My karma is bad, folks. I sit down, pale-faced and queasy thanks to a disgustingly sweet "lemon-lime" drink and no breakfast, get my arm all rubber-banded up and Ben starts throwing a fit. Okay, doable. I can handle a fit during a 10 second blood draw. Only I kept bleeding. And bleeding. And bleeding. The chick is finally like, "Weird, you must be a bleeder, huh?" Why, no. No one has ever called me a bleeder before, but thanks? Five miserable minutes later, drowned out by toddler screams, I hear the nurse say, "Okay, I think it's stopped. You can go now." FINALLY. I stand up, the room spins and I know this is going to end badly. But I chug along, start walking back to the doctor's room and SPLAT. My legs give out, everything turns black and I go kaput. I guess I was only out for a second, but it was utterly humiliating. They pump me full of grape juice and cheese crackers and send me on my merry way.

God gets me home safe and sound, albeit emotionally drained, and I just bawl. Like a little tiny baby. Then I beg Tim to please just come home and never go on another business trip again.

To make a painfully long story a little shorter, I start getting sick in the afternoon, muster up enough energy to make it through the day until Tim gets home at night, and then listen to Ben cry until 10:30 last night. I don't sleep yet again because this cold is kicking my arse and then Ben decides to protest his nap today after waking up at 6:30 this morning.

Lord help me.

Viability! Yippee!

We've made it to 24 weeks! That, folks, means that if this little girl were born today, she'd have a shot at surviving. Obviously I want her to cook for another 15 or 16 weeks (oh, who am I kidding - 14!), but it's always relieving to make it to this point.

Ben has entered the Terrible Twos. I love this child. I mean really, he's my heart and soul. But he's trying my patience these days and with pregnancy fatigue, some days I want to put my head through a wall. Or run away and hide. Or go back to work! I'm reading John Rosemond's How to Make the Terrible Twos Terrific and so far, so good. I'm really diggin' this guy.

I'm finding it hilarious that with each passing day, the room left on my lap for Ben to sit on shrinks considerably. Tonight as I was rocking him and reading to him before bed, he kept slipping off my leg. Poor kiddo. Makes me want to hold tight to these last few months of just him and me.


The 24 week belly
And no, my belly button hasn't popped and it won't. Never did with Ben. Weird, right? I guess I have the world's deepest belly button. You're welcome.

My nest.

I had the weekend all to myself! It was lonely and great all at the same time. Of course I missed my husband and little dude more than anything, but I got SO MUCH ACCOMPLISHED. Maybe a little too much, even.

Should we chalk this up to nesting? I think so. Let's see, I painted our living room and most of our master bedroom (minus a wall I couldn't get to because, well, I'm pregnant and can't really move furniture unless it involves scooting it across the wood floor). I completely gutted and re-organized all three hall closets and the master bath. I cleaned out some kitchen drawers/cabinets. I even started working on the nursery. I'm tired just rehashing it. But man, it looks GOOD. And it feels even better than it looks! I like organization a little. Okay, a lot. One might call me OCD. Up until Ben started walking, our house was nice and clean. Always. Now? Not so much. Who has time to keep a spotless house with a toddler running under foot and demanding most of my attention?

But then that old pregnancy friend, nesting, stopped by for a visit. And the stars aligned when a weekend alone presented itself (not that I intentionally chose to be away from my family, but thanks to our dogs, that's the way it worked out).

Let's take a look-see, shall we?


The ugmo before color...that I somehow picked out.


Pretty, pretty blue. Much prettier than this picture even does justice. It's darker and deeper and richer and oooh, so awesome!


Master bedroom before color.


And after. Sooo much cozier and homier.



I so wish the before picture hadn't vanished off my camera. This closet was pure, unorganized INSANITY!


This is my happy place.


Aha, finally, a before!


Much, much better.


Before. Yikesey!




Again, happy place.


Um, I am so embarrassed that I let my junk drawer get this bad.



Even Ben's playroom got a nice organizational overhaul last week!









And this is the next project. The current office/guest room/junk magnet/MY WORST NIGHTMARE that will soon be Ben and baby girl's room.









Thought for the day: Organization supplies are a pregnancy expense no one warns you about.