tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10942869765308306992023-11-16T00:15:24.775-06:00A Spirit of HopeKarinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.comBlogger88125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-27681528457934536952013-01-14T21:58:00.001-06:002013-01-14T21:58:18.142-06:00Walking With You: the pit hurts<br />
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Today I'm linking up again with lovely Kelly at <a href="http://blog.sufficientgraceministries.org/">Sufficient Grace Ministries</a> for Walking With You. </div>
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<strong>This week’s WWY topic ~ Clinging in the Pit</strong></div>
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<em>Whether or not you are new to loss, talk a bit about early grief. What was it like, clinging for hope in the pits of despair? What did you cling to for hope? How did you survive the early days? What helped? What do you wish you could share with someone new to this walk, clinging in the pit? If you’re in the pit, currently, share your struggles. What can others do to encourage you?</em></div>
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I'm not in the pit today. Today. But I know it well. <br />
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After my first miscarriage, I didn't fully grieve. As with everything else about that time, I didn't know how. I was confused. My heart was telling me it's okay to dwell in that hurt for a bit, but everything around me pointed to moving past it. <br />
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After my second miscarriage, I decided to grieve well. [Can one be an overacheiver griever? I sure tried to find out.] I knew I had the grief work to do. That's when I found you lovely ladies. When I fought for my feelings and took care of myself, so much came pouring out. I went deeper into the pit than I could have anticipated. <br />
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I wrote about the hurt <a href="http://aspiritofhope.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-heart-hurts.html">here</a>. And <a href="http://aspiritofhope.blogspot.com/2010/04/some-days-everything-hurts.html">here</a>. Reading those words heavy with raw grief makes my heart ache a bit now.<br />
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A hole that I had no idea how to escape. I couldn't focus long enough to even ask if I could climb out. Or if there was a ladder. Or someone to help me. And it was dark. That's how I described my pit of depression. Reading those words now brings me back. Not in the way that I feel it with the same intensity, but in the way when you place yourself back in a memory.<br />
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There is no such thing as 'just' grief. It's not 'just' as in merely, and it's definitely not 'just' as in fair.<br />
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There can be a fine, fine line between grief and depression. I have been squarely on the depression side of the fence. I believe that the medical treatment I sought - both in therapy and with medications - was absolutely the right thing. For me. And taking control of my health then benefited me greatly when the <a href="http://aspiritofhope.blogspot.com/2011/06/and-its-backnow-in-form-of-postpartum.html">post-partum depression</a> set in after Anders was born. And in the periods where the anxiety has reared its ugly head in the months since.<br />
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***Please, if ever you find yourself on this line, ask for help. Tell someone. You can feel better. It's not easy, but so, so worth it. You didn't do anything wrong. And you're not alone.***<br />
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This community has been one of the most significant sources of support in my grief journey. When I wanted so desperately to be normal [whatever that is], you lovely ladies gave me hope. When <i>you </i>said things would get better, I believed you. When <i>you</i> said that you understood, I believed you. You gave me confidence to continue telling my story, and you love my babies with me. You get it.<br />
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I really don't like the adage that time heals all wounds. Time has made the grief less raw most days, absolutely. But my heart will always have two holes for the babies I don't hold here. Only in heaven will my heart be healed.<br />
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Three years ago I don't think I could say that I accept that a part of me will always hurt. I hurt too much then to see through it. But I can say that today. I don't like it. At all. But my perspective continues to evolve. That hurt is love that I feel so intensely.<br />
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Grief is hard work. Hope is hard work. I am a work in progress. <br />
<br />Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-71818856599502292322013-01-07T22:54:00.001-06:002013-01-07T22:55:33.203-06:00Walking WIth You: who and where i am<div style="text-align: center;">
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Hello friends. It's been so long since I've written (here) that the dates of my posts will now jump from August 2011 to January 2013. Wow. I just haven't known what I wanted to do with this space, but I've been itching to write and hit 'publish.'<br />
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Lovely Kelly at <a href="http://blog.sufficientgraceministries.org/">Sufficient Grace Ministries</a> is again hosting Walking With You, a weekly space to share our stories, our babies' stories, and love on one another. This week, introductions and where we are on the grief journey.<br />
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This is as good a time as any to start writing again...<br />
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My story...in 2009 I had two second trimester miscarriages.<br />
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My first pregnancy ended April 20, 2009 at 17 weeks, 4 days. I miscarried at home, without little previous indication that anything was wrong. I left work early, and as I drove, I wondered if I was having contractions. Paul wasn't feeling well, so I found him in bed when I got home. That was no small gift. The cramping and bleeding came on quite suddenly. I knew it was over. In my bathroom. With Paul on the phone to the hospital. Horrible doesn't begin to describe it.<br />
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We had no idea what to do. I was hysterical, foggy. We wrapped the baby in a towel to bring with us to the ER. I wish so very much that either of us had known to spend time looking at the baby. I threw a change of clothes, a book, a brush and my toothbrush in a bag, not knowing if I'd have to stay at the hospital. It's strange the things that we do think to do. Physically, I was okay. Still recovering from a labor and delivery, but okay. We received an amazing outpouring of support. Simply amazing. Emotionally, I pressed on.<br />
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Anytime I can, I share pregnancy and infant loss resources like Sufficient Grace Ministries with others because I wish someone had shared and connected with me.<br />
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In December 2009, I miscarried again at 14 weeks. Again. We had seen the heartbeat at least twice (and did with the first, too). The prenatal care coordinator had said it looked like I was having a uncomplicated pregnancy when I was in for early appointments. If only. At a regular OB appointment, there was simply no heartbeat. My doctor sent me to radiology for a better ultrasound, and I'll never forget the image of the still baby.<br />
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My doctor decided I should have a D&C after what I went through with my first miscarriage. But it was a Friday, so I had to wait for surgery until Monday. Horrible. Shock. Again? AGAIN?? Physically, the recovery was much easier. Emotionally, that's when my journey into the online babyloss community started.<br />
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The week I took off before returning to work, I found your blogs. Holly's first. Then blog-hopped to Kelly's and Lori's and so many others. I devoured them. I joined an amazing online weekly Bible study with many of you lovelies, which truthfully, is the only thing I remember about January through April of 2010. So much healing happened in that time, space. Moving forward.<br />
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I eagerly endured a healthy though anxiety-ridden pregnancy and gave birth to Anders February 16, 2011. After my second miscarriage, I was diagnosed with Factor V Leiden, so gave myself daily Lovenox injections throughout my pregnancy. Anders is worth every poke, bruise and much, much more. Since then, I've survived post-partum depression and multiple hills and valleys.<br />
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Today...I've accepted that I will always miss my babies and what might have been. It will always hurt; some days more, some days less. Loss hurts. That's okay. But I don't expect my need to talk about my them, and my love for them, to ever go away. I don't want it to. So I'm here.<br />
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I have moments where the pain is as sharp. Where it takes my breath away again. I still have flashbacks occasionally. I've also learned in a whole new way that nothing calms my mind and heart like prayer. That I'm stronger than I think. That I can be a mom to all my babies, but know I'll never have it all figured out.<br />
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I've learned my mind is clearer when I write. I've learned that I gain strength from this community. And I've learned that I'll forget all of this and need to relearn it another day.<br />
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<br />Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-51487742487918724882011-08-25T16:56:00.000-05:002011-08-25T16:56:56.496-05:00i am good. we are good.Writing here hasn't exactly been at the top of my priority list these last six months, but I miss it. I thought I'd get back in a routine after my last post (two months ago...sheesh). Not so much. Yet.<br />
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Thank you for your support after I wrote about my postpartum depression. It took a few weeks of therapy and onboarding meds, but I'm doing so much better. It was rough for awhile. I felt so disconnected and was back to crying at the drop of a hat. I was so anxious. I was impatient waiting for the meds to work. I saw my therapist weekly for a good while, and now I'm on a monthly maintenance schedule. And it feels good.<br />
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Focusing has still been challenging as it doesn't take much for my thoughts to spin. But with the help of lists, I'm productive at work most of the time! And yes, I add things I've done to the list just so I can cross them off.<br />
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This summer has been SO busy. We've been out of town often seeing family, and family can be exhausting. Especially 13 in-laws staying together in one cabin, with about 60 other relatives in neighboring cabins. We had a wonderful lake week in northern Minnesota with nearly all of Paul's aunts, uncles and varying degrees of cousins from his mom's side. I think we had six babies who are one year and under there at one time! Fishing, tie dying, reading, smores-ing, sleeping, talking, laughing. That was the week. Add a pedicure at Wal-Mart, and it really was a memorable week.<br />
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Anders is SO big. I can't believe he's already six months old. And 20 pounds. Chunky thighs + fluffy cloth diaper butt = needs a few more summer items in bigger sizes to see us through the next few weeks. I'll edit this post a bit later on the other computer so I can add a few photos.<br />
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He is just so much fun right now! Last week he started rolling EVERYWHERE and eating solid foods. I love each new adventure. I am so thankful to be in a place where I can enjoy him and all that is happening.<br />
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I am good.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-9026410435165670952011-06-27T21:34:00.000-05:002011-06-27T21:34:14.458-05:00and it's back...now in the form of postpartum depressionAside from the fact that I HAVE been meaning to update this blog, the impetus to write tonight is my diagnosis of postpartum depression.<br />
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A switch flipped last week. Why last week? Anders is 19 weeks old in two days. We made it past the difficult first two weeks of breastfeeding and no sleep, six weeks with a touch of colic, returning to work at 10 weeks, pumping around the clock for the last four months. Why now?<br />
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I didn't want to go home. I was at work with a pit in my stomach because I didn't want to go home. I knew that wasn't normal, though I take normal with a grain of salt. I looked at my beautiful baby and felt nothing. Except guilt that I didn't feel anything. I knew. Paul knew. And I called my psychiatrist the next morning.<br />
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Two months ago, I dropped Lexapro from my med list. I wasn't anxious anymore. I didn't need it. One month ago I decreased my Wellbutrin dose. It took two weeks before I felt like I lost my edge at work, but that was it. I was going to give it a month before calling to schedule an appointment. I didn't make it that far. Last week I wanted little to do with my baby. I didn't want to pump anymore. I suggested we just take out the disposable diapers instead of doing the cloth laundry. This wasn't like me. I knew it and I hated it.<br />
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So here I am. Back in the hole not knowing how to get out. Standing still while everything spins around me. I'm sad and angry and frustrated and embarrassed. And trying to figure out how to push these aside to love and care for my baby who needs me.<br />
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We caught it early. My Wellbutrin is back up and I'm seeing my pysch weekly until this levels out. Then biweekly. Then monthly. With my history, I'll be on meds for a year and with any future pregnancies/babies. I've had good days in the last week, but today was particularly bad. I don't think I managed to complete anything at work today.<br />
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But I did tell my coworker, who is both a very close friend, second mother and mental health ally. She'd been waiting for this. Not in a pessimistic way, but in a watch my back way. She's the same friend who sat with us at the ER with my first miscarriage, when we had no idea what to do or think.<br />
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This isn't me. It's my body, brain, chemicals, hormones. An illness. I didn't do anything wrong. It just is. So we're dealing with it. This much I know, though it's hard to feel. I don't want to tell people what is going on with me because I'm afraid they'll ask why. Why when I finally have the baby I've been wanting? [That's so loaded, I don't even want to go there. I don't know why. I wanted the other babies, too. Yes, Anders is a good baby. I don't know what's wrong.] And I spin...<br />
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I always knew this was a possibility given my history. My doctors have been vigilant and so has Paul. So have I, for that matter. But I wanted to be okay. To not have to deal with something on my very long list of concerns/complications. I wanted SOMEthing to go right.<br />
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Anders is right, so very right. That's what I have to remember. I need to take care of myself so I can take care of him. I don't want Anders to EVER wonder where his mom is or why she isn't hugging him. That thought breaks my heart.<br />
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So here it is. Back on this journey. I don't know how to navigate PPD. It's different than the depression I struggled with earlier. It's scarier.<br />
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But this is temporary. I'm doing what I need to do. Paul is the best dad and can pick up what I can't give at the moment. Anders is well-cared for. And I'm doing the best I can at this moment, with what I have to give.<br />
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But it's hard accepting that. Maybe writing it will help.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-37560045676755759602011-06-27T21:06:00.000-05:002011-06-27T21:06:00.430-05:00four months of Anders in photosThe quickest way to catch up...share a few of the MANY photos we have take of this sweet baby. My goodness, how we love our little boy. I can't believe he is already four-and-a-half months old. I miss the tiny baby snuggles, but the bigger babies snuggles are just as good, if not better. I hear it just keeps getting better. Are you ready for some cuteness??<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Daddy read If You Give a Moose a Muffin when Anders was 1.5 hours old.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqx8wtXWAcuidMEmtH1Lo6gDNI8KkJ30_OjfwG9qVoP1L6XqnnImHRwbi5zWWponHTc_2kSxo8V8sSSeVmnhG_5IQDVe9D-LgdWYtbcGQl5Pe80OYFCeJj0YDZ1LiGA3eDZ8QmCikLPLu/s1600/DSC00315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqx8wtXWAcuidMEmtH1Lo6gDNI8KkJ30_OjfwG9qVoP1L6XqnnImHRwbi5zWWponHTc_2kSxo8V8sSSeVmnhG_5IQDVe9D-LgdWYtbcGQl5Pe80OYFCeJj0YDZ1LiGA3eDZ8QmCikLPLu/s320/DSC00315.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqx8wtXWAcuidMEmtH1Lo6gDNI8KkJ30_OjfwG9qVoP1L6XqnnImHRwbi5zWWponHTc_2kSxo8V8sSSeVmnhG_5IQDVe9D-LgdWYtbcGQl5Pe80OYFCeJj0YDZ1LiGA3eDZ8QmCikLPLu/s1600/DSC00315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>An early family picture</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Qe0n2w707pNDRlvpLGqmxCez8d1rLeRoU3JVqF2V6mrtWd7vJbDHMn1wHATKL7IPpbZ7UUvu_2AlDy7SKJaA8kT7tM59O1ok9t4zLaaBJH-oWxlsORlCU99OUkANcOAFyclUkQILuZXL/s1600/DSC00427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Qe0n2w707pNDRlvpLGqmxCez8d1rLeRoU3JVqF2V6mrtWd7vJbDHMn1wHATKL7IPpbZ7UUvu_2AlDy7SKJaA8kT7tM59O1ok9t4zLaaBJH-oWxlsORlCU99OUkANcOAFyclUkQILuZXL/s320/DSC00427.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Red hair!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaX7R79RYCMhiPECtUPFN1jr3KGEHTAFin7_esHSC81YxY1N7UYgOlqS85pj06F5-uIp-J338eMElzWiFefxedWJBra409MRNFGtRGIV1bRPihZaSZX6N-MqMfQLNvz3chtjqQE5TfW2vh/s1600/DSC00428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaX7R79RYCMhiPECtUPFN1jr3KGEHTAFin7_esHSC81YxY1N7UYgOlqS85pj06F5-uIp-J338eMElzWiFefxedWJBra409MRNFGtRGIV1bRPihZaSZX6N-MqMfQLNvz3chtjqQE5TfW2vh/s320/DSC00428.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Anders' first hockey game...still in the hospital.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRlxQT0UP-47wKPSlHun1CK3pGMAjQmlnLWDF0KA-nMD3OuRGqbGs6-sLrkxeI_cNKXWkweSsP0ok7un1Acj3tmkkHV259ldSSTA5Jfhq16uQcNmKGE8WWHa8OcV6rU4TPHI-0kEiPbPFw/s1600/DSC00461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRlxQT0UP-47wKPSlHun1CK3pGMAjQmlnLWDF0KA-nMD3OuRGqbGs6-sLrkxeI_cNKXWkweSsP0ok7un1Acj3tmkkHV259ldSSTA5Jfhq16uQcNmKGE8WWHa8OcV6rU4TPHI-0kEiPbPFw/s320/DSC00461.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I cried when I packed away this sweet grey outfit. It was the first I picked out just for my baby.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_UvpEZ-xxn8mkQ6G_puONX2eKr-qzdxuurKDbssSrembX08ED4Q6i1BJDhz5iKoibJCXbUUZOT5gYrKj-dBMjSWYz2Lo4fx6KrtKXKAQgLsp8idQYfclv_ykv38x2kNw2mIV79G5BF1Qd/s1600/DSC00503.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_UvpEZ-xxn8mkQ6G_puONX2eKr-qzdxuurKDbssSrembX08ED4Q6i1BJDhz5iKoibJCXbUUZOT5gYrKj-dBMjSWYz2Lo4fx6KrtKXKAQgLsp8idQYfclv_ykv38x2kNw2mIV79G5BF1Qd/s320/DSC00503.JPG" width="180" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">The upside to early bottle feeding - Daddy gets in on the action!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dvdmT_UTvcuuk8H_985VB8BJOwZ11O66aC0dNoxhPOeJCiYYo3r3YyuoPPGMsU_dkcgj0pAlsPW4QgkuQO9PuSVhCO_FjWBEAVr_4XtFyhOhvndAtlXDvcdlhbiuAEQtrLR3njUY4OIw/s1600/DSC00656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dvdmT_UTvcuuk8H_985VB8BJOwZ11O66aC0dNoxhPOeJCiYYo3r3YyuoPPGMsU_dkcgj0pAlsPW4QgkuQO9PuSVhCO_FjWBEAVr_4XtFyhOhvndAtlXDvcdlhbiuAEQtrLR3njUY4OIw/s320/DSC00656.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Milk drunk.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp20V7-VgEnkIfUqPAHRBAfVCAODTA7NdhRhpRpmP9wLkGAUmACEyKZtwXqHvOfQ_2HIxjTEO7cdrGZrXdo7wXStv_XxHLUOqT1HYS4I9zV-jzrrn-UyC5HMxb8ER0_Wn4nVQV150frjQw/s1600/DSC00667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp20V7-VgEnkIfUqPAHRBAfVCAODTA7NdhRhpRpmP9wLkGAUmACEyKZtwXqHvOfQ_2HIxjTEO7cdrGZrXdo7wXStv_XxHLUOqT1HYS4I9zV-jzrrn-UyC5HMxb8ER0_Wn4nVQV150frjQw/s320/DSC00667.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My friend Vicky took these photos of Anders when he was nine days old. Her little girl V was born just two-and-a-half weeks before Anders.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWN5L79H10OTkvTcDmKl-sh_eLuRo6ukSKqVxM8leC4XQIsyakjFPwcIL3EQjJkZGoZTrKLU9rJazu62v8y2ks83eFwRBD-neaG94TbFnGalvqJ7rApRedI9b1MIjRuWVGewxwqx_Bbo9_/s1600/anders.hat.bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWN5L79H10OTkvTcDmKl-sh_eLuRo6ukSKqVxM8leC4XQIsyakjFPwcIL3EQjJkZGoZTrKLU9rJazu62v8y2ks83eFwRBD-neaG94TbFnGalvqJ7rApRedI9b1MIjRuWVGewxwqx_Bbo9_/s320/anders.hat.bw.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWN5L79H10OTkvTcDmKl-sh_eLuRo6ukSKqVxM8leC4XQIsyakjFPwcIL3EQjJkZGoZTrKLU9rJazu62v8y2ks83eFwRBD-neaG94TbFnGalvqJ7rApRedI9b1MIjRuWVGewxwqx_Bbo9_/s1600/anders.hat.bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT-h9-N-xOEe9Fef28DpoFyM2uCysLMRt7WD6tvkcOvfIHPxw2LxRhwJncVVpRqbevYlqj5wtlx_Y6oWkyI7l7vMnkfbrZFyST8tXgMBtiWLE-WHwlwzlNO2s_wQISfAZE5ZpzExIrlGsJ/s1600/anders.smile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT-h9-N-xOEe9Fef28DpoFyM2uCysLMRt7WD6tvkcOvfIHPxw2LxRhwJncVVpRqbevYlqj5wtlx_Y6oWkyI7l7vMnkfbrZFyST8tXgMBtiWLE-WHwlwzlNO2s_wQISfAZE5ZpzExIrlGsJ/s320/anders.smile.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQin12Gbv9mNHnVj8mk-WeAljJpro-D_Kee4_5xYrLCcdM114SseNyUX5olEafaI15rlgGXWXI2BsEVa15JK9og3wCqGhHulFqxescPAmOG-AyHftJuCPdlGdlA4QaKz2emMam83PED7N3/s1600/anders.awake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQin12Gbv9mNHnVj8mk-WeAljJpro-D_Kee4_5xYrLCcdM114SseNyUX5olEafaI15rlgGXWXI2BsEVa15JK9og3wCqGhHulFqxescPAmOG-AyHftJuCPdlGdlA4QaKz2emMam83PED7N3/s320/anders.awake.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">This little outfit has a dinosaur on the shirt. And dinosaur feet! [I'm still new to uploading photos. I'll figure out how to rotate in the future. Until then, sorry.]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31wAgeD6Wm_qcIUqqxzZrEnSjJizngxvFjQzqR3pfNYiAvKyQx9JpWIf6K5e_ddpyo96n4CDKkMWdTsG-6NVlzvNw1k72siErjPZZqiiW4vHhWSh18pbmXuDyQRuTCjPc4sr08nAg8Yck/s1600/DSC00679.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31wAgeD6Wm_qcIUqqxzZrEnSjJizngxvFjQzqR3pfNYiAvKyQx9JpWIf6K5e_ddpyo96n4CDKkMWdTsG-6NVlzvNw1k72siErjPZZqiiW4vHhWSh18pbmXuDyQRuTCjPc4sr08nAg8Yck/s320/DSC00679.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">First bath - success! Now we love baths. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgehyphenhyphenM1rXFG3RVa-L1CV2K1aL1iBo0pNBScPJzs8boqij3raRrwswQZ01rZbPImj1WpXe0b34A867rQ1mEYHmunCHTxD-b6WQuiYHvKgIOkvwJj0qtVu49b94_IjBOMkuqqcIRMiSdM9Ryl/s1600/DSC00785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgehyphenhyphenM1rXFG3RVa-L1CV2K1aL1iBo0pNBScPJzs8boqij3raRrwswQZ01rZbPImj1WpXe0b34A867rQ1mEYHmunCHTxD-b6WQuiYHvKgIOkvwJj0qtVu49b94_IjBOMkuqqcIRMiSdM9Ryl/s320/DSC00785.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I rather like to dress him like a little old man. This particular sweater has elbow patches.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUqztcyB__1JqG1mvcElrijtCKqlpuhnLzT_in1dTcmRDUHwRlCQVyhk3R1JMcKPPo1rd8g0RdSI8KiWn9HmbfobGAy9pQnrpjfmPulPVKCMSjkhypHJXzDm_uPWkHxmJgsgTiuRiJjC1/s1600/DSC00863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUqztcyB__1JqG1mvcElrijtCKqlpuhnLzT_in1dTcmRDUHwRlCQVyhk3R1JMcKPPo1rd8g0RdSI8KiWn9HmbfobGAy9pQnrpjfmPulPVKCMSjkhypHJXzDm_uPWkHxmJgsgTiuRiJjC1/s320/DSC00863.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Baptism April 3</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfQ6xSLuozMP4y8dqJhKzGM3WzLhRxcLN-5j6BX0lpDGv5rDkOZ76AuRqrgATx2wgczQTEpCWnAfMhGgA_uFjHtN8QphsJTLzJmd1sMA3xCmqdFe_iyBSJGMR5Ch4cT9LhN4W8gIatNB2/s1600/DSC00933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfQ6xSLuozMP4y8dqJhKzGM3WzLhRxcLN-5j6BX0lpDGv5rDkOZ76AuRqrgATx2wgczQTEpCWnAfMhGgA_uFjHtN8QphsJTLzJmd1sMA3xCmqdFe_iyBSJGMR5Ch4cT9LhN4W8gIatNB2/s320/DSC00933.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Anders at six weeks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGce-6Gsd2XonDHYNDiKTqnpExoJL0rpPuhz-t637HKLMuH1ZDK8Rx4CzSlZL4yK7A5ezYqTKWaS9S3tLMdUiNwDmX7C-5hvtwvoC0PO4LbXereUZLmwIBc-_X4xC2yhm0ozbrookPSDKX/s1600/DSC00956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGce-6Gsd2XonDHYNDiKTqnpExoJL0rpPuhz-t637HKLMuH1ZDK8Rx4CzSlZL4yK7A5ezYqTKWaS9S3tLMdUiNwDmX7C-5hvtwvoC0PO4LbXereUZLmwIBc-_X4xC2yhm0ozbrookPSDKX/s320/DSC00956.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The snow finally melted (in mid-April), so we went for our first walk!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgaCDVher9yoLeYZAiu8NbcR2S-eSnNMuIZpURcLV2YGGbl9F9NoSc7q9ajF-YrpOmm-e2JOdafMtqKFtwfgKYzV53EegXnyj2nLQpTrmJSeMYr7mBigNpXx8qNEXfp8n9HGaIpxlJBu5/s1600/DSC00963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgaCDVher9yoLeYZAiu8NbcR2S-eSnNMuIZpURcLV2YGGbl9F9NoSc7q9ajF-YrpOmm-e2JOdafMtqKFtwfgKYzV53EegXnyj2nLQpTrmJSeMYr7mBigNpXx8qNEXfp8n9HGaIpxlJBu5/s320/DSC00963.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> A typical maternity leave day, though mascara didn't start happening until he was about eight weeks old. There is likely a Diet Coke to my right. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUom7Pg6oQDLUQ18K4tVFzmj2sUmbrem5c1mtc2JkMXZyq9lcdXkEqC3IDfUA6czGOfRolfojaM406qSR88Jx5ZMq0sEg_7Mj2QRt3iYPnJgB4wKGy6N2C1ma8qzbxPEHa5kJ0yV_qjtN/s1600/DSC00997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUom7Pg6oQDLUQ18K4tVFzmj2sUmbrem5c1mtc2JkMXZyq9lcdXkEqC3IDfUA6czGOfRolfojaM406qSR88Jx5ZMq0sEg_7Mj2QRt3iYPnJgB4wKGy6N2C1ma8qzbxPEHa5kJ0yV_qjtN/s320/DSC00997.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">My happy (future?) Cobber!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdm7120Phn1pN77V2QFXB5XtMaOURDbA2OAgd44GXbVtOhmyTPkSZSt1xc5GtNvnaMyLafABC5zTUZ9YiaTS8EzY0Uuz6GMeSzkbe27ULOYcPL6Lxn_tij2RNsqfDp2MafhD8lhLACdddg/s1600/DSC01048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdm7120Phn1pN77V2QFXB5XtMaOURDbA2OAgd44GXbVtOhmyTPkSZSt1xc5GtNvnaMyLafABC5zTUZ9YiaTS8EzY0Uuz6GMeSzkbe27ULOYcPL6Lxn_tij2RNsqfDp2MafhD8lhLACdddg/s320/DSC01048.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">April 25, my birthday</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8NTDDE4vFqbvFFi_tdYa7iBtHjzS0DhK94mDT1rSKO25qa9Jh2tx15O5l_u3A8SW0OuoiPjKjo2VvR34fLq_G3BfGskwZEgdvjGkZXdhg0vL1lsapBTbrkVVP7IXdA2U4uGrTlLPctEG/s1600/DSC01077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8NTDDE4vFqbvFFi_tdYa7iBtHjzS0DhK94mDT1rSKO25qa9Jh2tx15O5l_u3A8SW0OuoiPjKjo2VvR34fLq_G3BfGskwZEgdvjGkZXdhg0vL1lsapBTbrkVVP7IXdA2U4uGrTlLPctEG/s320/DSC01077.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite photos...eight weeks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9rXgjlYVsnybCcVMRyjwbwbnzE5ajYyw4UpEcEV-FcLNn6rExWCQMv-VnPsNHYqYASFehxVbL-iqzGBpN2i4HBVBfSKxmkJjkMLoFCbUJWt-JTBYISsuQ45dxbgj2gHBBxPPDO1hkTY9t/s1600/DSC01094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9rXgjlYVsnybCcVMRyjwbwbnzE5ajYyw4UpEcEV-FcLNn6rExWCQMv-VnPsNHYqYASFehxVbL-iqzGBpN2i4HBVBfSKxmkJjkMLoFCbUJWt-JTBYISsuQ45dxbgj2gHBBxPPDO1hkTY9t/s320/DSC01094.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">We LOVE cloth diapers!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJtjDv9sNl4ETQ77OeAvULaQGOtJA5Im4lQ_5Itk-czBDYxGfvq6SbGlVFQ8zy9CcWuJbfK9pP1PU_Q-5XY4JKnhbavmegTFZGJSgRhTBa5BqvSHr_UEflRSLBN4wFqJgzjNs29bqoMAg/s1600/DSC01098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJtjDv9sNl4ETQ77OeAvULaQGOtJA5Im4lQ_5Itk-czBDYxGfvq6SbGlVFQ8zy9CcWuJbfK9pP1PU_Q-5XY4JKnhbavmegTFZGJSgRhTBa5BqvSHr_UEflRSLBN4wFqJgzjNs29bqoMAg/s320/DSC01098.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I think I got the best present in my Easter basket.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkfe9HsRyS_JZqZWn4XMuzk2QNJkgRlIrhvSTWALPJt9KLrKMfokW-whOm55ElFc5rcU0-ykR5MnucB9i5nEm1YaA1dMKLLI5h7oZHz6KaI_kvucnVdENF519_J_1HQwXq2wFMDHCgp1u3/s1600/DSC01031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkfe9HsRyS_JZqZWn4XMuzk2QNJkgRlIrhvSTWALPJt9KLrKMfokW-whOm55ElFc5rcU0-ykR5MnucB9i5nEm1YaA1dMKLLI5h7oZHz6KaI_kvucnVdENF519_J_1HQwXq2wFMDHCgp1u3/s320/DSC01031.JPG" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">First Mother's Day with Anders.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM29tfLhvGaMAneZZbPiMWRXOALALHch2PSkILlcCI7fGWyDVqGHRsRunIxEznKllhUg8qIq6Cpmrb02gdwf7yM3QBNF0EmKN3XVBiNQHDxEwqM4vYQo6pGDUACdRnPCE22s7BaawTDTGl/s1600/DSC01157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM29tfLhvGaMAneZZbPiMWRXOALALHch2PSkILlcCI7fGWyDVqGHRsRunIxEznKllhUg8qIq6Cpmrb02gdwf7yM3QBNF0EmKN3XVBiNQHDxEwqM4vYQo6pGDUACdRnPCE22s7BaawTDTGl/s320/DSC01157.JPG" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Of course one needs a ducky bathrobe.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuotWmYrsmTTbAdrZbfl3kvYvfsFkWNhwDRm6l4jeWmfEp9n6Ry8iopjUNDO-Srm68FKfSdKpW9cikjCtEhc5EB9jOoyFiRQdWQA6xLxpyArJu6KBDiFoMy4sRsYBzCsg8-48cTzinfX26/s1600/DSC01213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuotWmYrsmTTbAdrZbfl3kvYvfsFkWNhwDRm6l4jeWmfEp9n6Ry8iopjUNDO-Srm68FKfSdKpW9cikjCtEhc5EB9jOoyFiRQdWQA6xLxpyArJu6KBDiFoMy4sRsYBzCsg8-48cTzinfX26/s320/DSC01213.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy Flag Day!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKez1_26CFOSjbyM5Py60a_sGUGzh77HnnvpkiltKJ7-BeZ1SZ4UiIrR8W1Zg-3OId79GYxgTnr9Z3OqBlpooWucAbp8UZRipubr6E3JFYci5yFAmmvRv2R6lm865IPTSLLuBVvXSdGnkW/s1600/DSC01236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKez1_26CFOSjbyM5Py60a_sGUGzh77HnnvpkiltKJ7-BeZ1SZ4UiIrR8W1Zg-3OId79GYxgTnr9Z3OqBlpooWucAbp8UZRipubr6E3JFYci5yFAmmvRv2R6lm865IPTSLLuBVvXSdGnkW/s320/DSC01236.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Overwhelmed by developmental milestones...sitting, grabbing, hands to mouth, teething...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5HGxb5XlR-0IZU_MV8ituMW2k9VCN1Ef9jgD9aA2Ug2_gxbK2eZliS3K7IleWttZDu-g7EhWz8lekniIZ3DFtpBT4PvfrcXs_IkvKPULVTzQpHyeLP9lzKNXjXjKgbYXuRNGcxMHwfvUC/s1600/DSC01241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5HGxb5XlR-0IZU_MV8ituMW2k9VCN1Ef9jgD9aA2Ug2_gxbK2eZliS3K7IleWttZDu-g7EhWz8lekniIZ3DFtpBT4PvfrcXs_IkvKPULVTzQpHyeLP9lzKNXjXjKgbYXuRNGcxMHwfvUC/s320/DSC01241.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Trying out the new hiking backpack!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQa26b0VELIHb0VqxH01Xsnd7X39w6Nu8hDcQrYlz9sBsUN1oS0MmAz2hfFh7DU0ZczwhvANjaiAYpMgb2D0F7KffSZK6qyAIO1wnzQQ2AvD61Dhv-Je18qw8mLCSklNVoR9uX52__E47d/s1600/DSC01258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQa26b0VELIHb0VqxH01Xsnd7X39w6Nu8hDcQrYlz9sBsUN1oS0MmAz2hfFh7DU0ZczwhvANjaiAYpMgb2D0F7KffSZK6qyAIO1wnzQQ2AvD61Dhv-Je18qw8mLCSklNVoR9uX52__E47d/s320/DSC01258.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Strong enough for the Johnny Jump Up!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuGvNPYU2bd0N_17PxBy5LqKd7M8F9DbTH9R-sy1F_itaXZl3ZodWYXYfH1M7YvmHQPWQwY3i4mVQ3JPNli3X-I7DwDfIQmAxX-S1HBc7qZ0UMnadcP_2TQSZ6KNGXxrFBV39Ptd9KyovK/s1600/DSC01292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuGvNPYU2bd0N_17PxBy5LqKd7M8F9DbTH9R-sy1F_itaXZl3ZodWYXYfH1M7YvmHQPWQwY3i4mVQ3JPNli3X-I7DwDfIQmAxX-S1HBc7qZ0UMnadcP_2TQSZ6KNGXxrFBV39Ptd9KyovK/s320/DSC01292.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We went to visit Vicky and her babies and have some three-month photos taken.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHM-fsVLZ8MSlbVul1J6abxRF10Ckaqnx7_hi40LFbiqA3PwofsB0uA8nAJahBsfCCI8lzwqVVR7RbURieKuLGiyeqp8y6WjpHwiSvSD_QMyqexapv5FvpokmyGL_PFREcjtbwk2K7lLGK/s1600/IMG_3956bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHM-fsVLZ8MSlbVul1J6abxRF10Ckaqnx7_hi40LFbiqA3PwofsB0uA8nAJahBsfCCI8lzwqVVR7RbURieKuLGiyeqp8y6WjpHwiSvSD_QMyqexapv5FvpokmyGL_PFREcjtbwk2K7lLGK/s320/IMG_3956bw.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">My current favorite photo of my boy. Big blue eyes, blue diaper, hint of red hair. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0OVWsf0lAFYvP8Vvu20SJy-zAR4tC2eWAFJV5vCvwQoG1HGShSmP1pth59J46VmMwpBzyUmDXM-MakkiQ2mO71fwqixi4s_OVCdRNeQ0bvZKDXpUUZ4rxnanrSdNiZOF_eSyacxz5SO_q/s1600/tummy.diaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0OVWsf0lAFYvP8Vvu20SJy-zAR4tC2eWAFJV5vCvwQoG1HGShSmP1pth59J46VmMwpBzyUmDXM-MakkiQ2mO71fwqixi4s_OVCdRNeQ0bvZKDXpUUZ4rxnanrSdNiZOF_eSyacxz5SO_q/s320/tummy.diaper.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-89334600292820902232011-06-27T20:29:00.000-05:002011-06-27T20:29:52.922-05:00happy birthday, andersI last posted at 37 weeks, and I was anxiously counting down the days. From the beginning, I felt that my baby should come at 38 weeks. That given my Factor V Leiden and history, that would be safest. But my OB wouldn't schedule an induction before 39 weeks. So an induction date was set for February 21.<br />
<br />
Since 32 weeks, I had been seeing my OB weekly and had biophysical profiles and nonstress tests performed weekly. Work just knew that every Monday, I wouldn't be in until after noon, and on Thursdays, I needed to leave at 2.30 for the day. I loved not having to wait more than four days until hearing or seeing the heartbeat again. Even though baby was rather stubborn up to the very end and would make my NSTs last over an hour EACH time, I loved it. My only job at that moment was to be there.<br />
<br />
On February 14, 38 weeks, 1 day, I went in for my regular OB appointment and BPP. Baby didn't pass the BPP. Sleeping was apparently more important than showing off breathing or moving. So after the regular check (dilated 1 cm, 50% effaced), I drank lots of orange juice and hooked up for the NST. Baby BARELY passed. My OB consulted another OB and determined all was good for that day, but I needed to go home, rest, and repeat on the next day. So home I went, with the email to work saying I'm not in labor yet, but...<br />
<br />
Tuesday, February 15. Not only did baby pass the BPP with flying colors, the NST showed I was having regular contractions (could have told them that) every five to seven minutes, lasting 30 seconds. My OB checked and I was still only 1 cm. She said that if I had progressed at all, she would have admitted me. Instead she told me to go home and call her later, since she was on call. So home I went, with the email to work saying I'm not in labor yet, but...<br />
<br />
I went to the grocery store to by snacks for the hospital. And took the long way around. I bounced on my yoga ball all afternoon. Paul and I decided nothing was happening so we went out to dinner at the mall, and then walked down to baby Gap to admire cute little clothes. I debated about doing my heparin injection, but had pretty much decided nothing was going to be happening, so I did it at 8.30pm.<br />
<br />
So my water broke at 11.15pm. Lying in bed, reading. I didn't even get to fall asleep. So for an hour I monitored the fluid and contractions. I mean I didn't <i>think </i>I wet my pants, but, well...yeah. Contractions were four-six minutes, and the fluid kept running clear. I woke Paul up with the cliched "I think it's time." Actually I just said my water broke. He grew alert rather quickly! We called the hospital, explained my water broke and that I tested positive Group B Strep, and predictably, they said to come in. So off we went, but not before taking a couple pictures.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVRCCxuCCUKPhjZi1NC5LGwit2ITfn2nDR4-CuPDCR_zprNBQ5aRDQpjai5TiNAzZCJxpMn9tuADCUh8AVWdIU6Xt10sBOA_9_tazpPsZVw4MljlygHcoAlkxoSa78ZAO1lSm8g475j1W/s1600/DSC00250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVRCCxuCCUKPhjZi1NC5LGwit2ITfn2nDR4-CuPDCR_zprNBQ5aRDQpjai5TiNAzZCJxpMn9tuADCUh8AVWdIU6Xt10sBOA_9_tazpPsZVw4MljlygHcoAlkxoSa78ZAO1lSm8g475j1W/s320/DSC00250.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
February 16 started, and we were wide awake. Being admitted was rather boring. Check - dilated to 1.5, 80% effaced, -2 station. But tests confirmed my water had broken, so they started the antibiotics. I reminded the nurses like clockwork that I needed my new bag hung every four hours. After having our niece die of a GBS infection, I wasn't protesting one bit. L&D was very busy, so they pretty much just filled the tub for me, and left us alone most of the night. The plan was to start pitocin at 6 am.<br />
<br />
Well, the pit started at 9 am instead, because again, they were busy. When 7am rolled around, I got my very own nurse, whom we loved. So nice. Contractions were uncomfortable, but not unmanageable, and I had progressed to 2.5. I spent more time in the tub; Paul left to get himself some lunch.<br />
<br />
Around noon or so, the contractions were getting to me, so we tried Nubain. Love Nubain. I'm a happy drunk, so I was mostly pleasant. I was having such bad back labor, that each time a contraction hit, all I could say was "back" and Paul would start the counter pressure while I helpfully told him that's not where it hurt. But I was able to rest between.<br />
<br />
Until the nurse decided we needed to go to internal monitoring. The monitors weren't staying on well enough, and they couldn't get a good read on my contractions, which was important because of the pit. And then they decided to also place the scalp electrode on baby's head. I just chose not to think about that one too much. At the time they were placing these, I was completely unmedicated. They had to place the scalp one not once or twice, but three times. At one point, two were connected. Throughout the course of the day, I went through five IUPCs to monitor contractions. Not so pleasant. They actually had to call in the SWAT team at one point because three different nurses couldn't get it placed correctly. Fun for me.<br />
<br />
pitocin, I was ready. It was going to be awhile.<br />
<br />
I love the anesthesiologist. Here I am after that wonderful relief, happily reading some Martha Stewart Living. That was 3pm - 14 hours after my water broke.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0L_1fQYPgGpp0On4w5UhcmHWtKeYtXW8nTJa0kv8rrCNDp28zUZrEdYo8nRJZJ54kaq4MKAmyrCgd8yhwZFPrPzvSWbu-1D76HTU8sASLUem5fEnCSkBfSkqfcgMCVs3hZpbDNCgq3tq/s1600/DSC00257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0L_1fQYPgGpp0On4w5UhcmHWtKeYtXW8nTJa0kv8rrCNDp28zUZrEdYo8nRJZJ54kaq4MKAmyrCgd8yhwZFPrPzvSWbu-1D76HTU8sASLUem5fEnCSkBfSkqfcgMCVs3hZpbDNCgq3tq/s320/DSC00257.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Hours, naps, and lemon Italian ices later, I hadn't progressed past 5.5...maybe. So around 8 pm, my night nurse and student (LOVE them) came in looking very sheepish. She wanted to check me because the doctor was on the phone and thinking c-section as I was nearing 24 hours since my water broke.<br />
<br />
Okay. No big deal. Really. At various times throughout pregnancy, Paul and I said that if there were medical reason to schedule a c-section we would. It wasn't a scary option to us. It was a controlled environment, and with the stresses of this pregnancy, control would be welcome. So they started prepping me. It wasn't an emergency; baby had been doing so very well all day. But the head was molding at my cervix, which made them wonder if the baby would even fit. So quite relaxed, we got ready.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The anesthesiologist for surgery was the one I had for my d/c. I remembered her by her funky earrings. Full circle. She was just as wonderful this time. So kind. It seemed like forever while they moved me to the OR and then to the OR table. And it was SO COLD. The kind anesthesiologist wrapped warm towels on my head. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And then at 10.54 pm he was born - the midwife said, "we have a boy!" We were shocked. We were convinced we were having a girl (we still didn't know the sex - I consider it a bit of a feat that so many ultrasound techs managed not to slip). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I cried. And cried and cried. All I could say was "he's here." There was a bit of meconium in the fluid, so they didn't stimulate crying until he was all suctioned. Paul wouldn't leave my side, but I kept telling him he needed to go take pictures. And he was okay. My first view:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGatfM4JmkTdadBn-DFxVIx5yyxrYaYZpE-UHjJwoizGkFldvFXcQJ-gryQRdJr8os5Hvm01tNb_YiI2h9zxBTEsrMXiGFJ1S_vbAAtEDQEnaz5Ar9u2Ur32ZJelCmeGcgBZvSZuLB52Z/s1600/DSC00277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGatfM4JmkTdadBn-DFxVIx5yyxrYaYZpE-UHjJwoizGkFldvFXcQJ-gryQRdJr8os5Hvm01tNb_YiI2h9zxBTEsrMXiGFJ1S_vbAAtEDQEnaz5Ar9u2Ur32ZJelCmeGcgBZvSZuLB52Z/s320/DSC00277.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We hadn't decided on a final boy's name, though it was down to to. I remember saying I needed to hold him before I'd name him, and Paul said he looked like an Anders. Our two boys' names were Anders and Oliver. After I held him back in my room, we named him Anders Olson Held. While the surgeons finished putting me back together, Paul went with the baby to the nursery to be weighed and checked. We met back in my room at the same time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The nurses were wonderful. Anders was with me within 30 minutes of being born, on my chest and breastfeeding. They hadn't bathed him or done any of the newborn meds. We had a wonderful, hazy sleep-deprived, endorphin-driven night. By midnight Paul was calling our parents. It was so fun - NO ONE knew we were at the hospital until he was born. It was a wonderful day of just us. Our new family.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Those are the important details. I was up and moving less than 12 hours after surgery and kept at it. The good pain meds made me loopy at precisely the time our pastor came to visit. Oh well. Visitors came and loved on Anders, and we were thrilled.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The only bad experience - the nurses forced me to supplement with formula when Anders' bilirubin levels came back abnormally high. He was so sleepy and had a hard time nursing starting on day three, but I protested. They guilted me into it saying that high bili levels can lead to brain damage, and his was off the charts. Even the lactation consultant said we had to, but worked out a feeding/pumping plan. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Nipple confusion is real. My little guy quickly figured out how much easier it is to eat from the bottle, and he would actually scream every time we tried to position him to nurse. Every. Time. So feeding time became fighting time. For three weeks, I'd attempt to latch him - and he was a champion latcher at first, and then when he wanted - then feed him expressed milk in a bottle, and then finish his feeding with formula, if needed. Every. Time. Exhausting. Defeating. I hated every minute of it. I still regret letting the nurses talk me into supplementing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We saw the lactation consultant twice each week for three weeks. Even she said he was stubborn - he could latch just fine, but wouldn't. When she said that the container is our ideal and he doesn't care how his tummy is filled, I accepted that we wouldn't be nursing. By two weeks, he was only taking one formula bottle each day, if that. I was pumping the rest. Since three weeks, I've been exclusively pumping, and he's receiving exclusively breast milk. I'm very proud of that. But it was hard to let the nursing relationship go.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I promise to keep my other update posts shorter. :) This was an important one for me to capture the details of a wonderful day. I don't regret anything about my labor and delivery experience. I labored without meds in the tub, accepted pain relief when I needed, and ultimately had surgery. I'd do it all again without hesitation. Except I won't need to. We're totally scheduling the next c-section.</div>Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-76082570823886104962011-06-27T19:29:00.000-05:002011-06-27T19:29:07.860-05:00still here...now with baby!Well, friends, if any of you still have me in your reader, I'm here. Quiet online, but present. Facebook updates seem to be all I've managed, though I swear I've written several blog posts in my head. I'm working on some updates, and can't wait to introduce Anders, my son born on February 16! I promise photos.<br />
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Until then, here is a quick peek...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7rqB3ZXECyYUd1_5JPTHMzA1MOLMP-0ydiMR0LpMrv6VhcipLwtBv0TrYa4gWFYVhV8UzRrPnDrKjspZt7LTXQMdr-Mg4CAKn8yPAJmvnmgrxQcp56JoyFIks2sVn9Y0z7ROlXEONBYxi/s1600/IMG_3956bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7rqB3ZXECyYUd1_5JPTHMzA1MOLMP-0ydiMR0LpMrv6VhcipLwtBv0TrYa4gWFYVhV8UzRrPnDrKjspZt7LTXQMdr-Mg4CAKn8yPAJmvnmgrxQcp56JoyFIks2sVn9Y0z7ROlXEONBYxi/s320/IMG_3956bw.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Anders Olson Held at 3.5 months</div>Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-16419942265303625582011-02-04T20:48:00.000-06:002011-02-04T20:48:18.231-06:00almost 37 weeks!In two weeks or so, I'll have a baby in my ARMS!! We can hardly believe that we made it this far. Baby can come anytime, though it would be good to put in another week at work, lest I leave some not-so-fun reports for someone else to figure out. I'm just so excited!<br />
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I'll be 37 weeks on Sunday, and then Monday is a big day. We're doing growth measurements in addition to the regular biophysical profile, and my doctor is setting an induction date. She'll also check my cervix for the first time. I know it doesn't mean a whole lot, but I'm curious. :)<br />
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All of the weekly appointments, BPPs and NSTs have been great. Baby is still rather stubborn for the NSTs though...he or she likes to hide from the monitor or kick it off. Last week a nurse had to stay and hold it in place because we couldn't get more than three minutes of recording at a time! Baby was much more cooperative yesterday.<br />
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Braxton Hicks contractions are definitely picking up, and a few are even painful. They were registering on the NST yesterday, but were still mild and definitely not regular. My body aches all the time, but I expect that for being nine months pregnant. I'm all baby!!<br />
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Tomorrow is our second baby shower, and I love how excited Paul is. Lots of friends, our parents and siblings will be there - boys included. All of these people have been with us on this journey, and we are looking forward to CELEBRATING this baby!<br />
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Paul says it's time I share the baby and wants baby to come any day. I do too, but I also want baby to bake as long as needed. I have loved being pregnant, and I'm not going to wish away the days. I am simply grateful for every. single. one.<br />
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I keep up on reading blogs, but I've been not so good about writing. I'm working on that. Soon I'll be sharing pictures of baby!!!!!Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-83902205510962512992011-01-19T14:42:00.000-06:002011-01-19T14:42:17.392-06:00"at least God has given you another baby"This is supposed to be helpful? Coming from my counselor?<br />
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She said this within the first five minutes of my appointment, and it just set the tone. Trying to explain, she said that I shouldn't think about what I don't have and just concentrate on the future. I shouldn't worry or be sad because that's not good for me or this baby. <br />
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Also, I should come up with a plan for how to deal with feelings that come up during labor and delivery. Her suggestion was just not think about my miscarriages and first two babies.<br />
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Apparently, I grow defensive when I think that no one understands what I've been through. They don't have bad intentions.<br />
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Well, people don't know how I feel unless they've been here themselves. Pregnancy after loss. Sometimes intentions are more easily passed over than others. If someone were to use a racial slur, but claim no ill intentions, is it still okay? You cannot tell another that they don't feel offended. I am allowed my feelings.<br />
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Yes, I've thought about flashbacks during labor and delivery, especially given the traumatic incident with my first miscarriage. I can't tell you how I'll react...I can't tell you if I want an epidural or not! My plan is awareness. All I can do, and with Paul's support, is to recognize feelings and thoughts, recognize them as valid, feel what I need to feel, take a deep breath and come back to the present. Ignoring doesn't work for me.<br />
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I AM very thankful, grateful and humble that I am pregnant with another child. NO ONE gets to assume that I'm not. But those two little words...at least...red flags. Words that appear on every list of what not to say to a woman after a miscarriage. Drop those nasty words. "God has given you another baby". YES! That is true, and I am so excited. "I'm glad God has given you another baby." Thank you, me too.<br />
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One child will never replace another. Ever. Is it okay to tell a mother after one of two school-aged kids dies, "at least you still have one"? NO! <br />
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I don't live in state of perpetual sadness and crying anymore. That doesn't mean that words or memories won't trigger grief feelings. I expect that the intense feelings of loss won't always be so raw. They have changed even within the last year. But it's a process, and one event doesn't change that. <br />
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I am okay with where I am. Even happy and proud. I love ALL my babies, including this one who is doing barrel rolls at the minute and gives me far too many scares. I cannot wait to hold this baby, a fulfillment of hopes and dreams to have and raise children. <br />
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But I will not forget my first two babies. And like a good mama bear, I will fight for them and my memories of them. No one gets to take them from me or harm my memories.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-86752733066931911512011-01-16T20:27:00.000-06:002011-01-16T20:27:32.969-06:00another new nephew!!Baby number two for our family is here! Sylas Samuel was born this morning!! I hear he's a blondie. About 10 weeks ago, <a href="http://aspiritofhope.blogspot.com/2010/11/new-nephew-to-love.html#comments">Gabriel</a> joined us, and in another five weeks MY baby will join this brood!<br />
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At a little after midnight, Paul's mom sent the first text...they're at the hospital. So of course I could hardly sleep! We were up late, and so Paul was texting his brother. At about 2 am, my SIL just had the epidural and contractions were two minutes apart. The next text came at about 7.30 am from Paul's mom that they just broke M's water. FINALLY, shortly before noon, we learned Sylas had arrived an hour before! I dreamt of M in labor all night, and every time I woke up (which is a lot now at 34 weeks), I made Paul text for updates. We're spoiled in this instant gratification world.<br />
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Which is why we're planning not to share any hospital/labor/baby information until baby is here. Paul's mom will send updates to everyone in her phone with any info that is shared. We've been on the receiving end of a cousin's dilation progress, and I just don't care to share that much detail. It may be difficult to keep the induction date to ourselves, but regardless, we've made (and will continue to emphasize) that we do not want anyone waiting at the hospital ready to storm the doors.<br />
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We need new family time with just Paul, me and baby. After the journey we've been on, we're even more protective of our space and emotions. Our family is anticipating this little one, too, and we are so excited to share. But we need our time.<br />
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And as excited as I've been ALL DAY about little Sylas, we've stayed away from the hospital. In part because the roads are iffy for the 70 mile drive, but mostly because we want to give them space. The grandparents are there today; we'll see baby soon. I'm just as eager to talk with M to hear how things went, but that can wait.<br />
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With Paul's parents there today, at least I can count on some pictures by email a later tonight.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-24471153233504263742011-01-06T10:50:00.000-06:002011-01-06T10:50:10.053-06:00revisiting Christmas...pondering the new year...and 32 weeks!It's been nearly a month since I last wrote, and there is no specific reason why. Most importantly, baby is healthy and so am I.<br />
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Christmas was really hard for me this year, and as I was reading others' blogs, I saw that I was certainly not alone. It was harder than last year, maybe because last year I was in too much shock still from the recent miscarriage to feel much of anything else. This year, I just couldn't engage. Usually, I LOVE to decorate for the holidays. As usual, it took a week of reminding for Paul to bring in my totes of Christmas things. For about one hour, I pulled things out and put them in their usual places. He set up the tree. That's as far as we got. At one point, I suggested we just put up lights on the tree, but we never even made it that far. Everything came down right after Christmas, when I usually like to enjoy it until almost February. We never got around to taking a Christmas card picture, let alone order cards or write a letter. And all of this was okay. Okay because these are the material things. I love the tradition, but my heart just wasn't in it this year. <br />
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I had been a bit nervous about Christmas Eve church services because of how everything had been going, and last year, I nearly had a panic attack as I tried to avoid people. Instead, I basked in a wonderful feeling of calm. My heart still connected with the wonder of the birth of Jesus. And I loved every minute. Mom and I (and sometimes Grandma) have been playing piano-organ duets for about 15 years for every Christmas Eve service and this year was no different. This year I loved sitting at the front of the church in my cute shirt that showed off my baby belly while playing the music that reaches in so deeply. The hardest part - trying to keep playing while people think it's a good time to start a conversation and hug me.<br />
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As usual, the pastor's Christmas sermon was perfect. The first part focused on what the angels said as they approached Mary and others. Do not be afraid. I felt like that was spoken just for me. Do not be afraid. Everything will be okay because God is taking care of me. And the tears are starting again now. I really couldn't hold back the tears when the pastor went to pick up a three-week old baby. This is how Jesus came to us. As a child, as one of us, to live among us and die for us. Wow. That's overwhelming. A baby. I'll have a baby in my arms soon. My admiration for Mary grows even more. There's much to be afraid of, but there's no need. This has been a lot for me to process, from the larger Christmas season to the specific sermon. My heart is peaceful. <br />
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On New Year's Eve, Paul and I talked about the last two years. (In case you didn't see it on the news, North Dakota enjoyed a couple of blizzards over New Year's. We ate eggs and toast for dinner that night and didn't leave the house for days.) I said I would go so far to call 2009 a bad year. With two miscarriages, the death of a niece, many weeks of both anxious pregnancies and heart-wrenching grieving, it was not good. As for 2010, it was hard. But hard doesn't necessarily mean bad. I worked really hard in 2010 on myself. I committed to doing my grief work, and found the most incredible network of women. I struggled with my depression and worked through it in a variety of manners. I saw a counselor regularly and then a psychiatrist. We found the right combination of medication to help me. In the middle of that all, I was undergoing tests to try to find out why my body wouldn't carry a baby through the second trimester. I received a diagnosis of a genetic blood clotting disorder. It's not necessarily life-changing, but it drastically changed how future pregnancies would be tended. All of this happened in the first five months of the year.<br />
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In June I found out I was pregnant again. My excitement outweighed the fear, but probably not by a measurable amount. From day one, I've been on Lovenox. It's obviously working and I will fight to make sure we follow the same regimen with future pregnancies. But that's been hard - letting go of my own needle discomfort for the good of me and my baby. I did so happily and understand being a mother just a bit more. I've spent more hours at the doctor than I'm sure some women do throughout their childbearing years. But I've done so eagerly, and always leaving with my mind and heart more at ease. In December I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. The nutritionist told me the other day, as I gave her two weeks of food diaries and blood sugar charts, that tracking is hard work. Yes, but it hasn't been bad. I was quite proud of being able to show them how healthfully I eat (actually changing very little) and my excellent blood sugar patterns. I'm doing so well, in fact, that I no longer have to keep a food diary and I only check sugars twice each day. I know how foods affect my levels, and spot checking keeps me honest. It's hard, but not bad. Being pregnant is hard work all by itself. These additional layers certainly add to that, but hard does not mean bad. And good can, and often is, hard. Now, Paul tells me I'm good at being pregnant. Who would have thought?!<br />
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That's my update...perhaps mildly interesting at best. Baby updates are more interesting. <br />
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On Monday I started weekly BPPs and OB appointments, and today I start weekly NSTs. At 32 weeks, baby measured about 1.5 weeks ahead, weighing in at approximately 4lbs 11oz. I've been guessing baby will be an eight-pounder all along, and I may be right. Baby scored 8/8 on the BPP...it was so fun to watch him/her breathing! Now I can't wait to go listen to that heartbeat in a few hours. My blood pressure remains very good (112/64 consistently), no bleeding or cramping, and I'm still losing weight. Overall, I have lost five pounds this pregnancy. My doctor said she's not worried because baby has been growing right on track and is thriving. She did say that it would be okay if I happened to gain 10 lbs now, but not to worry about it. Maybe having a baby will be the unexpected start of a bit of weight loss! <br />
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Baby's room is set up now! I need to load the photos onto the computer, and then I'll post. I've actually had energy the last two weeks and have accomplished a fair amount of organizing, cleaning and setting up. We have a baby room, and I can just sit in there for hours. It's no longer the extra bedroom; it's baby's room. We're bringing home a baby next month!Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-67344234073605789922010-12-08T17:37:00.000-06:002010-12-08T17:37:54.690-06:00the magnificatI've had this version of the Magnificat on my mind lately. The text is from Luke 1 when Mary visits Elizabeth, who is pregnant with John the Baptist, and sings this song. <br />
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The setting is from Marty Haugen's evening vespers, Holden Evening Prayer. I've always thought it was a beautiful setting, and I love to accompany services where it is sung. My church uses Holden for weekly Lenten services, and I look forward to it each year. Now, in this advent season of anticipation, and anticipating the arrival of my own baby, I hear it in a different way. <br />
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The text and a beautiful prayer:<br />
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My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,<br />
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior<br />
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.<br />
From this day all generations will call me blessed:<br />
the Almighty has done great things for me,<br />
and holy is his Name.<br />
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He has mercy on those who fear him<br />
in every generation.<br />
He has shown the strength of his arm,<br />
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.<br />
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He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,<br />
and has lifted up the lowly.<br />
He has filled the hungry with good things,<br />
and the rich he has sent away empty.<br />
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He has come to the help of his servant Israel<br />
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,<br />
the promise he made to our fathers,<br />
to Abraham and his children for ever.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-61755708099903281612010-12-06T21:52:00.000-06:002010-12-06T22:11:42.019-06:0028 weeks...and first trip to labor & deliveryIt's been a baby-action packed few days and this is long. I'm exhausted, and providing a good home to a bunch of cold germs doesn't make it any easier!<br />
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First, we had our 28 week appointment on Friday! I managed to schedule labs, ultrasound and OB for the same day, so I just took the day off work. I repeated the three-hour glucose and didn't pass this time. Or rather, I was borderline, but she chose not to pass me. My fasting glucose is excellent, but my body is a bit sluggish to process that sugar after an hour. I'm waiting for the nurse to call to set me up with a nutritionist appointment.<br />
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And I'm okay with this. I more or less knew this is where we were heading, giving my strong family history and marginal passing results last time. I am much more emotionally equipped than had I needed to start the regimen at 18 weeks. And I will do ANYTHING in my power to ensure a healthy baby arriving safely. I'm down 2.5 pounds from four weeks ago which leaves me with a net loss of 5 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight. At this rate, Dr. B. wants me to put on 10 pounds in the next 10-11 weeks. My weight has definitely been redistributing!<br />
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Hemoglobin was on the low side of normal but fine, and the RH antibodies test came back negative so I was able to get the Rhogam shot later that afternoon. After three hours sitting in the lab, I had a good length scarf knit!<br />
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The ultrasound was great. Baby is BIG, measuring about two weeks ahead. We're going to check growth again in four weeks, but my OB isn't concerned about the size-GD correlation at this point because babies long bones were measuring ahead, too. We saw baby's mouth opening, the most perfect leg profile (all the better to kick with), and legs crossed tightly at the knees. We don't want to know the sex, and baby made sure we couldn't accidentally find out. Baby's heart rate is consistently around 150.<br />
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The only downside to the day (other than the GD stuff) was that we had to wait to hours to see Dr. B. It was her on-call day, and I knew that. But we weren't complaining. We've never really had to wait before, and who knows what she was handling that day. I'm sure I've caused her to run behind before!<br />
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Yesterday was my SIL's baby shower about an hour drive away. After a quick breakfast with my parents and shopping with my mom - she wanted to buy me a Christmas outfit! - we were on the road. I don't normally feel baby move when I'm in the car, so I didn't think too much about a lack of movement until we were back home. After an hour, only four movements. After three hours, two big glasses of juice, one piece of bunt cake and three trips to the bathroom, only six movements. So I called the nurse line in the birth center, and they suggested I come in for some monitoring.<br />
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So off we went. I was crying because I thought that if the nurse said to come in versus telling me to do something at home, maybe there was something wrong. I was 95 percent sure everything was fine, but that last 5 percent nagged at me. Now there is a different kind of fear...knowing that baby has a good outlook if born now (though I fully intend to bake him or her longer), makes me scared that I'll miss a warning sign and the chance to get baby out safely. *sigh* Always something.<br />
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I love my hospital and the nurses. Our nurse was SO WONDERFUL and she made me feel like we did the right thing. Absolutely no indication that we overreacted. After a good 20 minutes on the monitors, with baby's steady heart rate averaging around 150 with good accels and decels, we were cleared to go home. And of course baby decided to show off once hooked up because I got all sorts of good kicks and movements. No contractions and LOTS of movement noted on the strip. Just perfect. But there was nothing better than just listening to baby and trying to pick out the movement and when my coughing changed up the heart beat.<br />
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So today we both took a sick day. After the late night and bodies coursing with adrenaline, combined with an aching back and ribs from coughing for me, we needed to relax and decompress. Baby enjoyed the day at home too; moving ALL day for mommy.<br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The updated milestone checklist:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><strike>see heartbeat</strike></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><strike>finish progesterone</strike></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><strike>14 weeks - scary date #1</strike></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><strike>18 weeks - scary date #2</strike></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><strike>20 weeks - halfway!</strike></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><strike>24 weeks - viability</strike></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><s>28 weeks - next ultrasound; start biweekly appointments</s></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><s>*first trip to labor and delivery - 28w</s></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">32 weeks - next ultrasound; start weekly appointments</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">36 weeks - start heparin</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">37 weeks - full term</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">39 weeks - baby in my arms</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">*added to the list, but not planned.</div>Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-37786883489504747212010-12-03T22:38:00.000-06:002010-12-03T22:38:29.353-06:00another anniversarySo one year ago today we learned at 14 weeks our second baby no longer had a heartbeat. By date, it's tomorrow, but by day of the week, today. I managed to mostly hold it together at my marathon day at the clinic (next post), including ultrasound. Until I told my doctor it had been one year.<br />
<br />
The college where I work has a BIG Christmas concert each year, and I've missed very few in the last ten years. We even went last year with baby in my belly but no longer dancing. I just couldn't do it tonight. Not when I cried the whole time last year. I just need this weekend to be different.<br />
<br />
Again, the anticipation was worse than the day. The last week has been up and down. But it's the last of the firsts I've been anticipating. I've passed miscarriage dates (on Monday, the surgery date) and due dates.<br />
<br />
Paul reminded me tonight that there are more firsts than we can begin to anticipate...starting with the birth of this baby.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-11178417461014178982010-11-30T14:22:00.000-06:002010-11-30T14:22:53.784-06:00damn griefI think I'll always be surprised at how it catches me off-guard and takes my breath away.<br />
<br />
And hormones don't make it any easier.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-77727345983866458162010-11-24T22:03:00.009-06:002010-11-29T10:58:59.022-06:00daddy's first book<div style="font: 12px Helvetica; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Paul read his first book to baby tonight. Before he started, he said, "I've never read a book to a baby before." It was so sweet. We were trying to get some good kicks out of baby, but silly baby was being shy. I like family time. :) The book Paul chose:</span></span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font: 12px Helvetica; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcbrMpfO6YIlzBz1I_ap3B6_EWzZ6F6dWFq1Bze06QEM6YfnJQkgmQopYd5jhphiSjtEiygJjoiV8lnBn38mQgjNOxGgUDx6PobWUaDHtv_TUO16CzS9seYwlWUa8H3ulN-gXKAMHp9UHX/s1600/papa+please+get+the+moon+for+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcbrMpfO6YIlzBz1I_ap3B6_EWzZ6F6dWFq1Bze06QEM6YfnJQkgmQopYd5jhphiSjtEiygJjoiV8lnBn38mQgjNOxGgUDx6PobWUaDHtv_TUO16CzS9seYwlWUa8H3ulN-gXKAMHp9UHX/s320/papa+please+get+the+moon+for+me.jpg" width="224" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><em>Papa, please get the moon for me </em>by Eric Carle</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table> <div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="font: 12px Helvetica; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div style="font: 12px Helvetica; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The first time I read to baby:</span></span></div><div style="font: 12px Helvetica; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div style="font: 12px Helvetica; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_NcwiGfCHOz831k2722ql_y87xGaVeVo06Zd2ESxyGc1VGpS11557ITcgptedxJQwq6zjuks2SOliaVGfNID83EchUmJBnJxh9-0EU229sc0GCYN83lRFfKOnqDiLxtdnzny2lfFNGKwd/s1600/shakespeare+sonnets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_NcwiGfCHOz831k2722ql_y87xGaVeVo06Zd2ESxyGc1VGpS11557ITcgptedxJQwq6zjuks2SOliaVGfNID83EchUmJBnJxh9-0EU229sc0GCYN83lRFfKOnqDiLxtdnzny2lfFNGKwd/s320/shakespeare+sonnets.jpg" width="193" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">The Sonnets of Shakespeare</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div style="font: 12px Helvetica; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"></div>Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-75153820695358670942010-11-21T21:21:00.000-06:002010-11-21T21:21:41.963-06:00one of those daysAs I sit here, my eyes are swollen and red from crying. Just because my mind starts wandering.<br />
<br />
I had to set aside my Pregnancy After Loss book, which I normally love, because it made me sad. I hadn't yet made it to the third trimester section, and in real life, I'm almost there! But it's overwhelming. Thoughts about setting up baby's room or not, depending on what we may have done in previous pregnancies. Whatever feels right is right. We didn't do anything for baby's room before or even make many purchases. Now we are. The crib came on Friday. I have a drawer full of clothes. Wall art half purchased. And we're excited about it all. But tonight, realizing that we have these things that mean baby is coming and wondering if we'll be one of those couples who has the room all set up and doesn't get to bring a baby home, I am terrified. That almost makes me not want to do it.<br />
<br />
Yet I say over and again that I will live in hope and not in fear.<br />
<br />
Would guarding my heart be easier? I've definitely lived in that realm. Not necessarily. If something were to happen, it will hurt beyond anything I can imagine. More than anything, I just want to be in my excitement, but it's really hard some days.<br />
<br />
So that started the uneasy feelings. Then I really got upset when reading about potential danger signs, one of which is not gaining a pound per week. I'm not. This whole pregnancy, I've played with five pounds lower than my starting weight. I'd go up and down within those five pounds. And I'm still down two pounds from my starting weight. My tummy is definitely growing, and baby has always measured right on track. My tummy even measured large at the last appointment. I wouldn't be worried if I felt I were eating well. But it's hard to eat when you have no appetite. At all. I don't get sick when I eat, but nothing ever sounds good. Lest you worry, I do eat (mostly) healthy food each day. For some reason it just set me off tonight. Poor Paul was opening all the cupboards trying to suggest things while I cried. I think he would have made me anything I wanted. I decided I wanted toast and chicken strips.<br />
<br />
But that's not all. I feel like my parents aren't excited about baby, and that bothers me. I think they are, but my mom has said it's hard for her to be excited this time. She always asks how the pregnancy is going (to the point she adds my appointments to her planner), but she never talks about baby. No one in my family does. Baby only enters conversation if I bring it up.<br />
<br />
I guess I don't know what I'm expecting. It just bothers me a bit that they gave us a "congratulations on your pregnancy" card with the first two and not this one. The second baby also got a little Winnie the Pooh blanket. Nothing for this baby. (Actually, we didn't receive any congratulations cards from anyone this time. I have to admit, it hurts a bit. Like this baby might not make it so it's not worth their time. This baby deserves to be celebrated, too.) It's not about material things, but maybe I equate that with excitement and planning. My mother-in-law can't stop buying things, even little things. A glider rocker for my Christmas gift, an ultrasound frame, layettes, a quilt, and that's just what she's given us. My friend's mom picks up stuff for her baby girl all the time, who will make her entrance the same time as my baby. Why doesn't my mom?<br />
<br />
Paul says she's probably just being cautious, and I get that. It just feels like yet again, I'm missing out on some of those "normal" pregnancy things that others get to enjoy.<br />
<br />
And of course my mind spins. Baby showers. Lovely friends are hosting two for us in January. One is at work, and the other is a friends couples shower. I mentioned them to my mom, since she'll be invited along with my mother-in-law, and there was no reaction. I just really want my mom at my shower, and she makes the drive for many other reasons (we live about four hours from them).<br />
<br />
All of this just made me cry. Pregnancy hormones certainly don't help. I don't know what to expect, yet I am frustrated that things aren't "normal." This pregnancy after loss thing is hard. Really hard.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-4049624481960116042010-11-19T10:33:00.000-06:002010-11-24T22:02:52.358-06:00daddy got a kickLast night Paul felt baby move for the first time! Baby has been super active in the evenings, and last night while we were lying in bed, I asked Paul to tell baby about his night. (He feels less awkward when he talks about something specific, so last night baby heard about the plans for brewing a big batch of Scottish ale with the homebrew club.) Baby started wiggling even more and gave two really big kicks. Paul was so excited! After that, he started to feel the subtle kicks, too.<br />
<br />
It was so fun! He was so happy to feel it for himself; he's been trying for at least the last eight weeks. These bonding moments are amazing. I have a feeling I'll have a hand on my belly even more often now. :)Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-64877753700134670362010-11-17T12:27:00.000-06:002010-11-17T12:27:24.301-06:00dreams, please go awayThey were right when they said dreams during pregnancy can be intense. (I can't identify they; I just know I've read about this in more than one place.) Good grief. I can accept losing sleep over being uncomfortable, but these dreams are a little harder to accept.<br />
<br />
My dreams aren't necessarily bad and definitely not scary. But they are stressful. SO stressful. Like trying to find my car in the Mall of American parking ramps late at night after someone else parked it and didn't tell me where. Or needing to pack up my boss's hotel room (and the belongings of two others staying with her, unbeknownst to me), deal with the hotel people, and then drive their stuff cross-country from Washington, D.C., by way of several metropolitan areas. Or finding an overweight beagle in my apartment building and not knowing who his owners are but wanting to take care of him for a bit despite his presence stressing out my cats. These dreams were from Monday night. And I fully woke up between each of them.<br />
<br />
Last night I enjoyed dream-free, uninterrupted sleep thanks to Ambien, as recommended by my OB for when I need it. I'll take it when it works, but I'd rather not come to rely on it. However, I do need to make it through the day, and baby and I both feel better when adequately rested. I know sleep deprivation will come on another whole level when baby is born, but that's just not comforting at the moment.<br />
<br />
The dreams need to settle down or I might be ordering who knows what from middle-of-the night infomercials in my sleep-deprived state.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-56320058778059924982010-11-10T17:17:00.001-06:002010-11-10T17:20:43.541-06:0024 weeks and thankfulSunday marked 24 weeks of baking for this baby! One of the things I was excited to do was to update the checklist below. In true obsessive list-maker fashion, I had to add a couple of lines, mostly to have more things to cross off.<br />
<br />
<strong>milestone checklist</strong><br />
<br />
<strike>see heartbeat</strike><br />
<strike>finish progesterone</strike><br />
<strike>14 weeks - scary date #1</strike><br />
<strike>18 weeks - scary date #2</strike><br />
<strike>20 weeks - halfway!</strike><br />
<strike>24 weeks - viability</strike><br />
28 weeks - next ultrasound; start biweekly appointments<br />
32 weeks - start weekly appointments<br />
36 weeks - start heparin<br />
37 weeks - full term<br />
39 weeks - baby in my arms<br />
<br />
On Monday we had our first OB appointment in four weeks. I realize that four weeks is a normal length of time between visits for most people, but I, like many of you, am not most people. But we made it! Anxiety is certainly calmed by the movement this baby shares with me all day every day, and some of those jabs are starting to take my breath away. I'm incubating a hockey-playing space heater!<br />
<br />
Everything is perfect. I don't use perfect often or lightly, but really, this pregnancy has been perfect. I enjoy being pregnant (which is something I never imagined saying), and I'm sure it has much to do with the thankfulness I relish in each day. Every day is another day I thank God that I have been given this baby to love and to carry. <br />
<br />
Here are a few updates from my appointment:<br />
<ul><li>excellent blood pressure again</li>
<li>weight gain of -2 pounds</li>
<li>baby is measuring a bit ahead</li>
<li>baby still gives Dr. B a hard time finding the heartbeat, but it is very strong and steady</li>
<li>plan for 27 weeks - repeat 3-hour glucose (I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm at risk); Rhogam shot; hemoglobin workup</li>
<li>plan for 28 weeks - ultrasound and OB appointment</li>
</ul>We are almost definitely meeting baby in a planned event, as Dr. B likes to put it. It sounds friendlier than induction. More than anything she wants to plan and control the environment given my anticoagulants, even though I'll take the last does 24-48 before the induction. She - and I - would rather have fewer interventions, which includes medication to reverse heparin effects and/or responding to potential hemorrhaging. And maybe we can schedule for a day Dr. B is on call! The more we talk about it, the more I get used to the idea. And I really do like controlling my environment to the extent I'm able. (Can one become even more type-A with age?) I am doing my best to have very few expectations surrounding labor and birth by educating myself, keeping open-minded, and remembering that nothing is more important than bringing baby here safely. My desires go out the window when I remind myself of that.<br />
<br />
I am so very thankful and my heart is full. Most of all, I'm thankful for this little one and all of the babies who are making healthy entrances into the world.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-37443369951376721102010-11-03T11:56:00.000-05:002010-11-03T11:56:03.488-05:00a new nephew to loveWe are so excited that baby Gabriel is here! After a long night, he came at 8.52am yesterday...the exact same time as his sister Sophia. A meaningful time. My sister-in-law and baby are doing well. They're testing Gabe for group b strep today, and if all is good, he won't need antibiotics and they'll likely go home tomorrow!<br />
<br />
After Sophia died at three weeks from meningitis caused by GBS - and doctors don't know how she got it - taking chances isn't worth it. Right now, they're keeping visitors to family only and being diligent about hand-washing. Other than doctor appointments, he'll be kept at home for a couple months with few visitors. <br />
<br />
I just can't wait to snuggle him! Paul is going to his parents' for deer hunting, and I might go with...mostly because Gabe and family live only 30 minutes away. :) It will be fun to see the big brothers, too. I just love my nephews and niece, and there's another nephew on the way!<br />
<br />
When my baby comes, there will be three new babies within three months. These cousins are going to have so much fun together! <br />
<br />
It is interesting symmetry, though. Our family lost three babies in 2009. Sophia was the third child in her family. Three often represents the trinity of body, mind and spirit. We all felt weakness here. Three represents divine perfection. All of these babies are perfect because they are created by God. Growing a baby is divided into trimesters. And three represents the triune God. A perfect God. The Holy Spirit, which has comforted me so during this time, joins God the creator and Jesus our deliverer to complete the fullness of the Godhead. Google "symbolism of three," and you'll find all sorts of interesting things. <br />
<br />
There is just so much to be thankful for. These babies are the hope that we've clung to. Now I pray for the safe and healthy arrival and infancy for them all.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-66913438869222103842010-10-27T15:40:00.000-05:002010-10-27T15:40:10.446-05:00tempering the worryThe last two days I haven't felt baby move as much as I had been. I've still felt movement, just not too much. I did call my doctor's office though, and the nurse said to rest and occasionally eat or drink something sugary. **Baby just gave me a good kick. ** She said they don't get too concerned about decreased movement until after 28 weeks, but if I find myself worrying, I can go in to listen to that heartbeat.<br />
<br />
I'm proud of myself. I haven't been beside myself with worry. Yesterday I did leave work early at the nurse's suggestion, but that's an easy thing I can do. I need to take care of myself and this little one. To be able to weigh my feelings (and my gut says everything is fine) shows progress. Despite the pregnancy hormones, I feel much more rational overall than about eight months ago. :)<br />
<br />
That said, I appreciate your prayers that all continues to go well, and that this orange soda gives baby a sugar high.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-43973967365609228892010-10-20T22:20:00.000-05:002010-10-20T22:20:33.205-05:00wiggling and bouncingThis little baby is big enough for me to feel lots of wiggles, bounces and somersaults everyday! I'm absolutely loving it. This daily reassurance that everything is okay are priceless.<br />
<br />
I have to wait three more weeks until my next appointment, so it will be a full four weeks between. They couldn't fit me in with Dr. B earlier, and I really didn't want to see someone else. I'm feeling okay about it. Now. As usual, I was overwhelmed with emotions when surprised. But I will only be feeling baby move around more over the next few weeks.<br />
<br />
Having the confidence to say <b>when</b> we bring baby home rather than <b>if </b>we will bring baby home fills me with so much joy. I haven't been able to have fun as a mother until now, and I really like it.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-9921633163155262232010-10-15T13:37:00.000-05:002010-10-15T13:37:03.858-05:00pregnancy and infant loss awareness day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvG7eex6_IiKsfDyQ22o1JH641ymTidU8b42APpqmumpFP3ze-G1WM41Y8Ypw34z_qx0GguXnENo5CIl7Yd5tY_cuXWoBKZcHlaIPIIAkL_Yc7m9JDklKZcxkKGjZL8CJVdQC1VHVtcZI2/s1600/Iamtheface_BoyGirl.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvG7eex6_IiKsfDyQ22o1JH641ymTidU8b42APpqmumpFP3ze-G1WM41Y8Ypw34z_qx0GguXnENo5CIl7Yd5tY_cuXWoBKZcHlaIPIIAkL_Yc7m9JDklKZcxkKGjZL8CJVdQC1VHVtcZI2/s320/Iamtheface_BoyGirl.gif" width="320" /></a></div>Today is a beautiful day. So much peace and so much love. We remember our babies everyday, of course, but as <a href="http://heathermohr.wordpress.com/2010/10/15/today-the-world-remembers-and-28-weeks/">Heather</a> put it so well, today we also ask the world to remember with us. Reading everyone's blog posts today stir in me such a feeling of community. And this blogging circle is one of the friendliest, most caring communities I've encountered. Thank you all.<br />
<br />
Today doesn't have to be a sad day - though I've had my moments. Today I choose to be joyful. Happiness can be a fleeting emotion, but joyfullness is intentional. The joyful me is tuned into God through the Spirit, and my heart sings praises all day.<br />
<br />
Last night I changed my Facebook profile picture to the I Am the Face button and posted a link to the Web site. Today I updated my status again. I really haven't ever said anything about my losses so outright in that forum, and I was nervous. For what, I have no idea. But I will share my story with those who might ask, and I will do what I can to help assuage our society's reluctance to talk about it. I know who I am, and I know who my babies are.Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1094286976530830699.post-53792252427431656342010-10-14T13:25:00.000-05:002010-10-14T13:25:18.710-05:00loving uneventful appointmentsMy 20 week OB appointment on Tuesday has been one of the best yet! She picked up baby's heartbeat immediately, and we just listened for awhile. This little one is pumping along consistently in the 150s, and is growing right on track. In a few weeks, my short-waisted body will only be able to accommodate growth by going out. And I love it.<br />
<br />
As far as the GD discussion goes, I'm supposed to watch my simple sugar intake and cut back. We'll re-test for GD in six to eight weeks. Since I did pass the test, Dr. B thinks this is the best plan. I'm on board. We also talked about weaning off an anti-depressant at 28 weeks. It has tested safe for pregnancy, but in the last trimester has been linked to pulmonary hypertension in the baby at birth. I feel great about that plan because I'm doing better than I have been in the last year, and now, finally, the feelings of excitement are greater than the worries. And I know I'm strong enough to live through a few tough weeks, if that happens to be, to help ensure that baby is healthy.<br />
<br />
We talked about delivery for the first time! She's going to switch me to heparin at 36 weeks, and then back to Lovenox or Coumadin for six weeks after delivery. Right now I think I'd rather do the daily injections (which have become no big deal!) than weekly blood tests. <br />
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She's also talking about inducing at 39 weeks. I had been thinking that was likely, and definitely not going longer than 40. With the FVL, we just don't need to hang out for very long in that time period when the incidence of clots rise and the placenta starts to tire of its work. Induction really isn't my preference, but if it's for good medical reasons, I'm on board. She said it would depend, too, on what signs my body is showing. So we'll see. But we have a good while to continue the conversation and for me to get used to the idea. Please share good induction experiences to help ease my mind. :)<br />
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We'll see baby again at 28 weeks for a growth check. That will have been 10 weeks since the last ultrasound and the longest we've gone without a peek! I see Dr. B again in three weeks, and hopefully growing baby will be tumbling around a lot for my reassurance. <br />
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And I'm feeling baby every day now! It's very subtle, silly anterior placenta, but there. When I'm in bed and baby's moving, Paul reaches for my belly quickly. He's just so anxious to feel baby, too. I love it.<br />
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I'm just so in love with my little family! And of course, that includes the cats. We have family snuggle time on the bed for sleeping. :)Karinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08833731913192813213noreply@blogger.com5