New Year's Eve

One year ago today I was in Florida visiting my parents, the same place I am again this morning.  I had just had my first CD 3 (well, technically CD 2) ultrasound the day before, which is how I ended up standing in line at the pharmacy on New Year’s Eve with my dad, waiting to pick up my first Clomid prescription.  (That was definitely a surreal experience!)   I took my first Clomid pill on New Year’s Day 2010.  I was nervous, hopeful and excited.  And I had no idea what this year would bring.

I’m glad I didn’t know.  I’m glad I didn’t know that I’d feel so angry and bitter when the first two cycles didn’t work, and I had to take off a month of TTC to be able to attend a very dear friend’s baby shower in New York.  I would have hated knowing how quickly TTC would change my emotions and my perspective.  I’m glad I didn’t know that I would get a BFP on try #3 that would end in a heartbreaking miscarriage.  I’m glad I didn’t know how angry I would get at my pregnant patients who took their pregnancies for granted, smoking and eating whatever they wanted, not realizing what precious gift they were carrying.  I’m glad I didn’t know just how hard this year would be on me, because I’m not sure I would have had the courage to take that first pill on January 1st if I had.

But I didn’t know, and so I’ve also been able to enjoy the thrill of seeing baby boy parts on an ultrasound, the joy of feeling a kick or two while doing something unpleasant at work, the wonder of hearing a little heartbeat on my doppler every night.

But, at the same time, knowing from experience how things can go so wrong also has me terrified.  I'm not a natural worrier, so having this constant worry is foreign to me, and makes me worry even more.  What if something goes wrong with the pregnancy?  What if I have complications in delivery?  What if these worries are someone trying to tell me something?  What if.....?  The what ifs are driving me crazy.

I'm better than I was in August or September.  I am allowing myself to get truly excited about my pregnancy, and for the first time it's all starting to seem real.  But that worry still overshadows everything.  I accidentally hit myself in the stomach with a medicine ball yesterday, and I'm still poking and prodding and over-analyzing every twinge (being constipated and gassy at the same time certainly doesn't help matters!)  Would I have been as worried if I hadn't lost my first pregnancy?  Probably not.  But maybe.  Who knows?

I'm just going to have to accept it, becoming a mom means giving up ownership of my heart.  My heart now belongs to my son, and the worry won't ever go away, even when he's 40 years old with a family of his own.  I just need to find a way to get my non-worrying self to accept that this is a normal part of life, not my spidey-sense telling me that something wrong really is going to happen.  If I live my life worrying about the what ifs, I'm going to miss the wonderful things that are all around me here and now.

I guess I just found my New Year's Resolution, didn't I?  For 2011, I officially resolve to make sure that I enjoy life as it comes, and to not let worry about the future keep me from living in the moment.

Happy New Year, my friends!  I hope that 2011 brings us all love, joy and lots of healthy babies!

The SMC Topic at Work

I work in a fairly small town in the South, with very conservative coworkers and very conservative patients. So when I decided I was definitely going to pursue the SMC path, I told my staff right away. I was a little nervous of what their reaction would be, but I told them straight out: I’d tried to meet a man, and it hadn’t worked, and so starting in 2010 I was going to try to become a mom on my own. I was shocked at the positive response. Honestly, I told them a year in advance because I wanted anyone who was bothered by it to have time to find another job. And instead they were all thrilled for me, and just as anxious as I was for January 2010 to get here.

The interesting thing about being a doctor in the South (and maybe in any small town) is that patients are incredibly interested in my life. When they ask me how I’m doing, they really want to know. Many of them know where my parents live, how many nephews I have, and they all know I’m still not married. And so I even told a few of my older female patients about my plans, and they all responded with, “If I could have done that when I was younger, I would have!”

Now it’s at the point where I’m starting to have to tell patients, because many of them are being scheduled to come back in 4-6 months, when I’m anticipating I’ll be out on maternity leave. I wear a lab coat at the office, so my bump is not as obvious as when I don’t have a coat on, but most of them are now saying, “I was wondering, but didn’t want to ask!” (When you’re a diabetes doctor, patients always pay attention to your waistline!)

A few of my very conservative patients I told before I was showing, because I wanted to let them know before they came in and were surprised. And I discovered that I have to be very careful with the more conservative patients on how I tell them things. I actually had one couple that said, “Well, we have a problem with you getting pregnant outside of marriage, but we are really proud of you for doing the right thing and keeping the baby.” Since then I’ve learned to be very clear when I tell patients that I am very excited to be a mommy, and that this was something I deliberately chose to do.

I emailed my staff a very clear list of how they should respond to questions from patients, because I know they’re going to get some. And the funny thing is, that until today, the only time patients asked any of my staff if I was pregnant was before I’d told anyone that I was! My receptionist came back to my office today with a huge grin on her face and said, “Finally! Someone asked if you were pregnant! Mr. C asked as he was checking out today. And when I told him yes, he said that he didn’t know you were married. So I told him you weren’t, that you had made this baby all by yourself!” That’s something she came up with on her own, and it couldn’t have been more perfect! In fact, I’ve decided that is going to be my standard response from now on if a patients says anything about my marital status.

Here’s what I told my office staff in my email: “At some point, you’ll probably start getting questions from my patients about my pregnancy. You do not have to answer any of them if it makes you uncomfortable, I’m completely fine with you just telling them to ask me. But if you do want to respond, here are a few guidelines. You can tell patients that I’m not married, and I would prefer if you make it clear that this was a choice I made (and not an accident) – a simple ‘No, she decided she’d waited long enough and was ready to have a baby on her own’ will do. Do not answer questions about how I got pregnant, if they really want to know those details, they’ll have to be brave enough to ask me themselves, so just respond with, ‘You’ll have to ask her that question.’”

I’ve often thought about what people would think about me becoming a mom on my own, but I never really thought about the actual process of telling people once I was pregnant until I started to have to do just that. But I hadn’t found anything I was really comfortable with until today – I’m so glad I work with such wonderful people who can come up with great things for me to say! “No, I’m not married, I made this baby all on my own.” It’s just perfect.

Christmas Eve

My Christmas Eve post could probably read exactly like Tiara’s post today. Instead of feeling sad that I’m still alone and childless for yet another Christmas, I’m writing this with Vagus draped across my belly as Chiquitito kicks me (and probably the cat, too). I still can’t believe that this is my life.

Christmas this year is at my sister’s house. Right now she has her parents-in-law staying with her, along with her sister-in-law and her husband with their 15 month old daughter Ella, so my parents are staying with me. Being with family who are all happy for me, and surrounded by children crazy with excitement is a perfect way to spend Christmas. I had a wonderful evening, even when my sister’s father-in-law asked me if the donor sperm was just a ruse, and if I was instead really pregnant with Tiger Woods' love child!  Never a dull moment with my extended family, that's for sure.

Merry Christmas to you all!

Winter Solstice

Today, December 21st, marks my due date from my first pregnancy. I’ve been dreading this date for weeks, and at the same time hoping it would hurry up and get here so I could stop with the unpleasant anticipation.

My heart aches for the little baby who wasn’t meant to be. I was sure she was a girl (I didn’t do any genetic testing to confirm this), and after my miscarriage I named her Faith. I didn’t have much faith in anything at the time, but I felt like naming her Faith was a promise to myself that my faith would return.

As I type this, Chiquitito is moving around, kicking my bladder and generally making his presence known. It’s strange, mourning my lost girl while being so totally in love with this little boy who wouldn’t exist if she had stayed. I don’t know how to reconcile the two feelings, but I guess I don’t have to. The joy and sadness aren’t mutually exclusive, but it does feel weird, feeling both so intensely at the same time.

I can’t help wondering what things would have been like if all had gone well, and I was about to become a new mom right around now; Christmas would be very different this year. I have a feeling that these sorts of wonderings will stop once Chiquitito is born, since as soon as I meet him I know I won’t be able to imagine another baby in my arms instead of him. I am so grateful that I’m facing this day while already 21 weeks pregnant, but whenever someone asks me “Is this your first child?” my instinctive response is, “No, my he’s my second.” I never actually answer that way, but I always feel a little guilty when I answer, “Yes, he’s my first.”

I used to think that God sent us losses like these for a reason. The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve questioned that line of reasoning, and now, after my miscarriage, I just don’t believe it anymore at all. There’s no rhyme or reason to why these things happen, they just do. My Christmas wish this year is that no one ever has to lose a child again, at any stage in life.

 If only my wish really could come true.

The Weekend Before Christmas

I was up this morning and out the door way earlier than usual on a Sunday – I had patients to see at the hospital, and a football game that started at 1. I was a little late for the game (sorry, Liz!), but still had a good time, especially since the Panthers finally remembered how to play football (or maybe it was that the Cardinals forgot?) I’m not sure if Chiquitito enjoyed the game or not, but he definitely moved around a lot whenever the crowd got really loud!

The game was a nice break from the tarps, paper floor coverings and dust that are everywhere in my condo right now. The guys have been great, and overall have done a wonderful job at keeping the mess at a minimum, but really, there’s no way to avoid it. Thank goodness they’re almost done! All that is needed is the finishing touches tomorrow, and then I have a cleaning service coming on Tuesday to clean things up and it’ll be finished. And then it’s time to get to finish the home redecorating, and get started on really getting my house ready for baby. These pictures are the last I’ll post until everything downstairs is finally the way I want it - hopefully it will look as good as I imagine it will.

freshly painted new wall

new chandelier

With everything a mess, it’s hard to visualize it ever looking good, though I know I’ll feel differently by tomorrow afternoon when it’s back to just my stuff again. But that’s the easy part; it’s the task of getting things ready for baby that is a little overwhelming. My condo doesn’t have good storage in the bedrooms or bathrooms, and even the kitchen cabinets are short on space. Somehow I’m going to have to find a way to rearrange all my mess in a way that makes it easy to accommodate baby stuff while being easy to keep neat. Now is when I really wish I had someone to help me with projects like these. Putting together my nursery should be fun, but also comes with its challenges. Since the nursery was originally an office, I’m going to have to figure out how to make a built in desk and bookshelves work with the baby theme. All good problems to have, I know, I’m not really complaining – just writing it all down helps me put it all in perspective. I think I’m going to take the time to put every project that needs to be done in a list, so that I can at least have the satisfaction of scratching each one off my list as I get it done. If I’m lucky, I might have them all done by May.

My parents are coming on Thursday to stay with me over Christmas, though we’ll probably be spending most of our time over at my sister’s house. I love my parents, and I’m looking forward to spending time with them, but I’m also dreading it. My mom has been weird lately – that whole issue deserves a post of its own that one day I might be brave enough to write it – which could make for a potentially difficult weekend. At least I’ll be around my nephews for most of that time, which should make up for any unpleasantness.

Now I really should be working on wrapping presents and cleaning up my stuff that has accumulated in my living room since most of the rest of my house has been unusable. The only bad thing about the tarps going away is that a wonderful source of entertainment for my cats will be gone, too. I’m not sure how I’m going to sleep without the sounds of crinkling plastic in the air every night.

And as an aside, the ASPCA commercials should be outlawed. Don’t they know the effect they have on hormonal pregnant women?

Longest Ultrasound Ever

My appointment was at 8 o’clock this morning, but they were late getting started, so I didn’t get into the room until about 8:15.  Then the tech couldn’t get the DVD recorder to work, so we had to switch to the other room.  Finally I had a probe on my belly about 8:30, and it was there until about 9:25! 

First, my placenta has moved and the previa is resolved completely!  Yay!  I also have a tiny little fibroid, and a new cyst on my left ovary.  Yes, this is what she looked at first, MY anatomy, while I was teased with little glimpses of moving arms and legs. 

Finally she focused the probe on Chiquitito, and we could see him kicking around, and waving his little hands, and at one point she got a great shot of him making swallowing, suckling and even yawning.  Unfortunately, it was burned onto a DVD that doesn’t seem to allow me to transfer the files into something I can edit or put online to share.  I was really looking forward to sending a little bit of the movie to my parents and family, but I guess they’ll just have to wait!  (Unless someone out there knows how I can copy the movie onto my computer, in which case – please email me!!!)  The tech was great, pointing out all the anatomy in great detail and giving a running commentary the entire time.  She was so busy talking to me, though, that she only printed out two pictures for me the whole hour I was there.  And I can’t share those, because my scanner is currently behind a mound of furniture and two plastic tarps.  So no pictures of any kind to share, but I can tell you he’s pretty damn cute!

So why was I there for so long?  The only thing they really needed after the first ultrasound was a better view of a few parts of his heart, and again he would not cooperate.  He stayed facing my back the entire time, which made it hard to see the arteries they needed to see, even when I rolled back and forth on the table, and when the tech jiggled him around with the probe.  But finally we got all the necessary views, and all looks normal.  I think it wore him out, though, because he’s been quiet all day, until after dinner tonight, when he decided to nudge my bladder a few times with his toes.

Oh, and he’s got long legs and is measuring a full week ahead.  I think he might have inherited that from his donor.

Feeling the Love

Yesterday, my sister and her family drove into town so I could take their annual Christmas pictures at the park near my house.  I walked across the street to meet them, and as I did, I heard a little voice yelling my name.  When I made it to the sidewalk, I saw my brother in law holding D, and as soon as he saw me, he set him down and D came running down the sidewalk yelling my name.  A guy passed me right before D got to me and said, “He loves him some Shannon!”  LOL  And then D hurtled into my arms and gave me a huge hug.  I love being an auntie!

Not the official family pic - but it makes me smile!

I think I’ve mentioned before that I adopted my younger cat Zaphira, from the Humane Society when she was 9 months old.  I chose her because she sat up when I came in the room and watched me as I walked around talking to the other cats – I think she knew I was the one that was going to take her to her forever home.  The deal was sealed when I saw how brave she was around the other cats, even the ones who hissed at her.  Since I had Vagus at home, that was important to me.  Unfortunately, she’d been at the shelter since she was just a few months old, and that limited human interaction made her nervous around people.  At the shelter she let me hold her, but once I brought her home, she rarely would let me pick her up.  At first, the only time she felt comfortable coming to me for affection was when I was on the toilet (I guess I’m not a threat with my pants around my ankles!) but gradually she’s become braver and braver.   It took two years, but last night, as I was nestled in my wonderful pregnancy pillow, she jumped up on the bed and immediately climbed onto my stomach, where she proceeded to curl up for a long winter’s nap.

I’d like to say that she’s sensing the pregnancy hormones and wants to be close to Chiquitito, but I’m pretty sure it’s the fact that I keep the house at 67 degrees at night these days that made her seek me out for warmth.  Whatever the cause, I’m so happy my sweet little kitten is getting brave enough to cuddle!

Construction Update – the drywall is up!  And the drywallers are amazing – they cleaned up their mess and the mess left by the a/c guys (including dusting my bedside table!).  We’ll see how things look after the sanding tomorrow – I’m anticipating a mess, no matter how neat they are.  To make the drywall guys even better, the boss is picking up my chandelier for me and delivering it when he stops by to inspect the work tomorrow afternoon.  I’d planned on picking it up myself on Friday, but discovered the box won’t fit into my car! 

Hopefully I’ll have more good construction updates this week – and I’ve got another ultrasound on Tuesday.  I’m going back so my perinatologist can get a better look at the pulmonary artery (he wouldn’t cooperate at my last scan) and to check on my placenta previa.  Let’s hope it’s moved!

CD 5

Thanks to all of you who left such wonderful and insightful comments on my last post. They were truly perfect. And now I’m going to try to continue my blog as usual, though it’s not really as usual, knowing Paige is grieving for her son tonight. But as many of you pointed out, we need to be able to share the bad and the good, and we need balance on this road we’ve chosen.

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My construction is progressing right on schedule. The building permit now has a nice shiny sticker on it from the county inspector, approving the work thus far. The scaffolding is now a semi-permanent part of my dining room, the electrical wiring is all in place, and instead of open spaces between the framing, I have insulation. Tomorrow, the dry wall guys start, and the dust really begins!

The leak in my downstairs bathroom ceiling is fixed, and just waiting for the drywall repair to be done, then my ceiling will finally be leak and hole free. The leak upstairs is another story. It took 5 phone calls and a “I’m a single woman who is almost 5 months pregnant and I just can’t afford the cost of another delay because you couldn’t get your act together!” to get them to finally schedule the repairs for today, instead of next week, like they wanted to do. I now have 3 holes in my bathroom ceiling upstairs, which is just a little bit creepy. They have one more thing left to do, then that will be fixed, too, and ready for the dry wall guys to fix the mess there as well.

So far all looks to be on schedule for a finish date of next Friday. I’m still expecting it to take a little longer, but the good news is that they will be done by Christmas! I can not wait to finally have my condo the way I want it to be – to live somewhere that finally feels like a place I want to call home.

On a completely unrelated note - I had a patient's three year old daughter give me a hug today, because she thought I was the doctor from her favorite Sesame Street book.  How absolutely heart melting is that?

Unfairness of It All

In the ALI community, it’s not uncommon for a blogger to lose followers when she gets pregnant, or for the blogger to decide she’s uncomfortable blogging on an IF blog while pregnant or once she has her baby, because she feels guilty, or she feels like she’s writing to a different community than she originally started with. I’ve struggled with this a little myself over the past few months. This blog started out as a blog after my miscarriage, then became a TTC blog, is now a pregnancy blog, and will hopefully become a baby and me blog in about 5 months, while around me are friends who have had recurrent failed cycles, miscarriages, heart break and disappointment. All things I’m familiar with, but I’ve still felt a little guilty at times, for having good news to share when others of you do not.  It's not fair.

I remember how I felt when I was TTC; it was hard to even want to read about women raising children, because I just couldn’t imagine myself there. Right after my miscarriage I couldn’t read the pregnancy blogs at all; I kept them on my follow list, but I didn’t read them. And then, as I healed, I discovered that I wanted to read about pregnancy again; in fact it was easier to be happy for my online friends than it was for my friends in real life, those first few months after my miscarriage. And so I came to the conclusion that this is, first and foremost, as Single Mom by Choice blog, no matter where I am in my journey. The stage I am in my journey may be difficult or painful for others who are struggling, but on the bad days I know they’ll avoid my posts just like I avoided others on my bad days.

But then Paige lost her sweet little boy yesterday. She was just a week ahead of me in her pregnancy, and my heart aches for her. I had a miscarriage at almost 9 weeks, but that loss pales in comparison to her loss – she had felt him move for several weeks, she saw his perfect body on the ultrasound and knew all was well. She was 20 weeks, all was supposed to be good – this is the time where you’re supposed to be able to worry less. My miscarriage resulted in a D&C where what came out was called “the products of conception” and was sent off to a pathology lab. Her baby was sent to a funeral home. Totally different, and I know I can’t begin to imagine the grief she feels today.

Her loss makes it feel disrespectful to want to post about my pregnancy updates, and I wonder if I’m not the only pregnant SMC out there today who feels that way. But again it comes back to my thoughts above, that this is a blog about my journey, and it’s ok to continue to post. I just wish that Paige were going to be posting about her pregnancy as I post about mine.

I’m not sure why I’m even writing this today…I guess I needed to in order to be able to not feel like an insensitive arse when I do share my pregnancy joys and woes over (hopefully) the next 21 weeks or so.

Paige, if you’re reading this now, or sometime in the future, please know that while I can’t fathom the grief you’re feeling, I do understand if you can’t read my posts for a long time to come. Why do these things have to happen? It’s just wrong.  And I'm so very sad for you and your wonderful family.

A Different Kind of CD1

This morning I woke up to a very clean house, with everything in order.  I came home to this - Construction Day 1:

The railing is down and the framing is up, along with all the plastic sheeting they’re using to protect my stuff.  They took the scaffolding and zip walls (I think that’s what they’re called – they’re using those in addition to the plastic sheeting to protect the rest of the house) with them, which I didn’t expect, but am grateful for, since it means a little less mess in the evening. 

So far everything is on schedule – but it’s also only CD 1.  My parents have already booked a hotel room for Christmas, just in case the construction isn’t done on time.  Not because they mind the mess, but because it’s awfully hard to pull out the sofa bed when my dining room table is in the way (they had to put it somewhere).

Construction and Angel Trees

After eons of delays, everything finally ready to get started!  I met with the contractor, project manager, his assistant and the electrician today.  I think I’m in love.  They are such a great group of guys – joking around with each other (and later with me), patient with my very slow building manager and still able to be all business when needed.  In less than an hour we’d decided on where the door to the nursery was going to be, how long the chain for my chandelier needs to be, that recessed lights in the kitchen would definitely look better and cost less than I thought, how high the window in the wall needs to be and what time they’re showing up on Thursday to start work.  There was a bunch of other stuff in there, too, but most of it was over my head.  I liked that they still included me in the conversation and treated me with respect - which is sometimes hard for men who wear tool belts to do. 

Tomorrow I’m ordering my new lighting, and then my work will be done until they’re done, which will hopefully be right before Christmas.  I am so exhausted after the craziness of the past few weeks – I’m really looking forward to a chance to laze around and do nothing this weekend.

In completely unrelated news, I have adopted two siblings for Christmas this year through the Angel Tree run by our local police department and radio station.  I chose the two children I did because all the 6 year old boy asked for was clothes and underwear, and the 4 year old girl asked for clothes, shoes and a baby doll.  Of course, I have to buy the boy something more than just clothes.  Remember when you were 6?  How awful would a Christmas be with just clothes as presents?  I guess if you were in desperate need of new clothes, you would be grateful to get them, even at 6, but I feel like I need to get him something more.  Trouble is, I have no idea what the cool things are for 6 year olds these days.  Any suggestions?  

The Fifth Day of Thankful

I did a little Black Friday shopping today. But not on purpose. I had planned to meet LB and her two kids at a lighting store this morning, to help me pick out a chandelier for my dining room, and new light fixtures for my kitchen, and then I was going over to my sister’s house when we were done. I ended up spending most of the day with them, instead. It started when they joined me at the store, and Isa ran up to give me a hug and asked, “How’s Mr. Baby doing today?” It ended with J asking me to come home with them so he could sit in my lap and cuddle. In between, we had hamburgers and milkshakes, visited a home improvement store, a sporting goods store and a kitchen store. At that point we thought we were done, until we passed a little children’s boutique with a sign out front that read, “50% off entire store.” LB dragged me inside, where I found a cute giraffe outfit for Chiquitito to wear in about a year and a half, a soft little hat, a few small security blankets and a beautiful handpainted wooden growth chart in blue with jungle animals, all half price. I also found a fireman raincoat and matching umbrella for my nephew D, so I’m now done with his Christmas shopping!

In the midst of all that shopping, we rolled our eyes at the kids and their crazy antics, joked about being pregnant, commiserated over our various extended family woes, and had had more relaxed fun together than we have since LB first told me she was pregnant again. It was a lovely day.

I am so lucky to have the wonderful friends that I do, but today I’m especially thankful for LB and her friendship, and the fact that her children (who I adore) consider me (and Chiquitito) to be part of their family.

The Fourth Day of Thankful

Tonight at dinner we each went around the table to say one thing we were thankful for today.  My dad went first, and said that he was thankful that I was pregnant and that next year there’d be 3 grandsons sitting around the table for Thanksgiving.  I managed not to cry because my brother in law promptly piped up, “Well, now Shannon’s going to have to come up with something new to be thankful for!”  But actually it reminded me of one of the things I’m most thankful right now (besides Chiquitito – but that one is sort of a given).  I’m thankful for a family that is so supportive of me and my decision to become a Single Mom by Choice.  My family has its fair share of problems, but not one single family member has ever said anything but kind and encouraging words about my plans.  And so, when it was my turn, I said just that.  And thanked my family for being so wonderful.  That’s when my 3 year old nephew, D, had to ask, “Aunt Shannon, are you thankful for me?” 

So that means that the Fourth Day of Thankful has me thankful for two things – the support of my family, and my nephew D.  And yes, I bought him that t-shirt!)   

The Third Day of Thankful

Today, I’m thankful for pumpkin bread.  Baking pumpkin bread is my official signal of the start of the holiday season; it just isn’t Thanksgiving until I’ve got a couple of loaves baking in the oven.  Right now, my first batch of the season is filling the house with the wonderful smells of pumpkin and spice, and it will smell like this for at least a couple of days.  I smell pumpkin bread, and I’m immediately filled with all the happy memories of Thanksgiving, and even Christmas (though I hate combining the two holidays, I guess it’s unavoidable at times!)

I love holiday traditions, but strangely, my family has almost no recurring traditions at all.  Instead, I’ve created holiday traditions with my friends; my favorite is with LB and her daughter Isa.   Every December, we have lunch or dinner followed by the Nutcracker or another Christmas themed production, followed by hot chocolate and presents at my house.  It’s something we plan to do for years to come, and is a special time the three of us can look forward to sharing together every year.

I’m thankful for pumpkin bread because it’s a tradition that I have on my own, but it symbolizes all the traditions I hope to form with my children, and my sister’s family in the years ahead.

I’m also thankful for pumpkin bread because it’s delicious.  Especially hot from the oven, or just out of the toaster with a little butter.  Yummy in my tummy!

Shannon’s Favorite Pumpkin Bread

3 cups sugar

1 cup canola oil

3 eggs

2 cups (1 15oz can) of pumpkin

½ teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1 teaspoon ground cloves

1 teaspoon nutmeg

3 cups flour

Preheat oven to 350F.

Mix above ingredients (in order as listed – unless you want to be really good and sift the flour with the baking powder, salt and baking soda, which is better, but I’m always too impatient to do it the right way).  Bake in two loaf pans for 50-60 minutes. 

I usually play around with the spices – today the cloves smelled really good, so I added a few more dashes in.  Occasionally, I’ll sprinkle the top of the loaves with cinnamon or even a dash of nutmeg.  It’s never the same every time, but that’s half the fun!  The second loaf makes a good gift – or freezes well, if you can keep it around long enough to make it into the freezer!

the picture above is a bunch of cloves, freshly picked off the tree

The Second Day of Thankful

I’m thankful for Judith McNaught.  As in Judith McNaught, the romance author.  No, not because of her books, though at one time I did absolutely adore them.  I’m thankful for her because of the wonderful group of friends I found just by trying to find out when her next book, Water’s Edge was coming out.  Eight years later, that book still isn’t out, but I have some of the most wonderful friends in the world.  We’ve seen each other through deaths, births, heartache and joy.  We’ve run miles of races together – or cheered each other on from the sidelines.   We’ve flown in from around the country, and even around the world, to get together and eat, shop and laugh together.  And not a day goes by that I’m not thankful for each and every one of them.  

Who knew that a romance author could do all that?

The First Day of Thankful!

Sarah over at Sarah Fain Has Starfish Envy has a wonderful idea for this week – a Week of Thankful. Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays, and I love the idea of a whole week of giving thanks, so I’m totally stealing her idea.

I’m going to start the week with something pretty simple. I’m thankful for exercise. Yes, exercise. It’s one thing that I can do for me that makes me feel good, is free, and is good for me. I might not have the best body, and I probably will never get rid of my muffin top, but I can control my fitness level, and that makes me feel wonderful. Right now, exercise is the only thing allowing me to eat whatever I want to while keeping gestational diabetes at bay, so I’m doubly thankful!

I wish I could go for a run tomorrow morning, because I always feel so great after I do, but even a brisk walk outside on a cool fall morning can be heavenly. And so I’m thankful that I can go for that walk every day. And I’m even thankful for the high blood sugars that inspired me to get back on track with daily exercise again!

(Again stealing from Sarah) - feel free to jump in on any of these posts and share what you're thankful for.  Or better yet, do your own thankful post.  :)

Is this Nesting?

Some of you may remember that I’m planning on doing some construction on my condo to get ready for baby.  Things have been moving slow; between my architect being sick and my building manager being too busy to get back to me, there’s been no progress for weeks.  But all of a sudden everything came together on Thursday evening, and I was able to email my contractor with answers to all his questions.  He emailed me back Friday morning and said that January was all booked up, but he had an opening for December, if I could do that.  Could I?  That’s what I was hoping for, but had given up on after all the delays the past couple of months.

Of course, my loft is currently full of things I’ve been meaning to move or give away, and I really don’t want all that stuff still there when the construction starts.  This weekend I’ve spent hours going through my books and packing them up:  books I love but don’t expect to read again anytime soon to put in storage, books I don’t ever want to read again to give to Goodwill, and rearranging the remaining books on my shelves in a way that won’t look too weird in a nursery.  (Really, I have tons of bookshelves that a child could never reach, I can’t let the space go to waste!)    I still have books scattered elsewhere around the house, but I really can’t handle thinking about those just yet.  Come to think of it, it’s possible I might be a book hoarder. 

The book purge inspired me to work on the rest of my house, which meant shopping for a new shower curtain (and rugs and towels) for my guest bathroom.  While I was shopping I found throw pillows for my couch that are perfect.  The style is a little out of my comfort zone – it’s a geometric pattern with lots of squares of different colors – but the colors are perfect.  It looks as though someone specifically made the pillows to pull together all the colors in my living room!  In addition, my new chair was delivered Thursday afternoon, so now all I need to finish the living room is to replace my current heavy coffee table (with sharp corners) with a leather storage ottoman.  I feel like I might finally be making some serious progress.

This coming weekend, instead of shopping for Christmas presents on Black Friday, I’ll be at the lighting store, looking for a chandelier for my living room as well as new lighting for my kitchen.  I’m pretty sure that will complete my home purchases.  Just in time to start shopping for the nursery in January!

Speaking of the nursery, it’s finally starting to sink in that I’m going to have a little boy!  I’m so excited – I would have loved a girl, of course, but I was really hoping for a boy.  I still worry more than I think I should, but it all feels like more of a reality, now that I know that all looks well, and that it’s a he.  I do already have a name picked out, but for now I’m sticking with Chiquitito on the blog.  Don’t worry, that’s not really going to be his name!  At least I don’t think it will be.

16 Week Ultrasound

Last night I had a dream that I found out my baby was a girl.  When I woke up to pee, and thought, "Really?  The night before my ultrasound, I finally get a dream?"  And then I went back to sleep and had another dream, this time that it was a boy.  So much for my prophetic dream abilities!

My ultrasound wasn't until 4pm, so it was a long day.  My sister Jamie, and my good friend (and long time running partner) Ali, met me at work and we drove across the street to the perinatal office, where I promptly forgot where it was, and went to the wrong floor.  (Seriously.)  We didn't wait long once I got to the right place, and the scan was started almost immediately.  At first, Kristy, the ultrasound tech, was taking measurements, but then she came to her senses and got to work finding out what flavor of baby I'm having.  And this is what we saw:

It's a boy!  I'm so happy!  I would have been happy either way, but I was (not-so) secretly wanting a little boy.  We were able to see all 10 fingers and toes, the brain, two kidneys, a normal heart (we could even see the heart valves!), a stomach and a bladder.  She couldn't get a good view of the pulmonary artery, though, so to be on the safe side I'm going back in 4 weeks for another scan.  My placenta is also covering my cervix (aka, placenta previa) so she wants to take a look at that, too, and be sure it's moved. In addition to all the baby stuff, both Kristy and the doctor kept commenting about the size of my bladder.  I guess all those years of holding it as long as I can has really stretched it out!  LOL  

Kicking Me!

I feel so relieved, after seeing my little boy kicking and punching and waving away in there.  I still can't feel any movement, which is crazy, given how much there is, but now that I know the anatomy is normal and all looks good, I'm feeling much less anxious.  I know the loss of my first pregnancy is going to make me more paranoid for this entire pregnancy (and any future ones, if I decide to try for 2), but this ultrasound was the big hurdle I have been waiting for.  Now it seems real.

OMG.  I'm going to have a SON!

Babysitting

I spent yesterday afternoon babysitting my 7 month old nephew Oliver.  He is a chubby, fuzzy-headed little bundle of smiles and we had so much fun.  We played on the floor for a while, ate lunch and after a brief nap we went for a long walk.  As I was navigating the stroller onto the elevator I had this sudden, terrifying thought, “My sister has entrusted this little baby with me.  Is she crazy?  How does she know I can handle this?”  That thought was followed by, “Oh, crap.  How do I know I can handle this?  Can I do this every day?”  I’ve spent lots of time imagining being a mom, but this is the first time that my imagining actually seemed real.  Terrifying and exciting, all at the same time.   As I struggled to change Oliver’s diapers, and later his clothes, I sent up a little prayer that by this time next year I’m a lot better at doing both things, because I just about gave up on getting his clean shirt on yesterday.  Let’s hope practice improves my baby changing skills, because I’d hate for Chiquitita to go naked because I just can’t get him/her dressed in the morning.

We took a nap together on the couch after our walk.  When Oliver woke up, he twisted his head around to look up at me, and gave me a huge, toothless grin that just melted my heart.  If I feel this way with my nephew, how am I going to feel when it’s my baby grinning up at me?  I can’t even imagine.

My next ultrasound is coming up on Tuesday afternoon!  I’ve got my fingers crossed that Chiquitita will cooperate so I can find out if I’m having a boy or a girl.  I can’t believe that I have absolutely no idea, none at all.  Most people seem to think I’m having a boy, but I really don’t have a feeling one way or the other.  I do already have a boy name picked out, but if it’s a girl, I’ve got some work to do! 

Culture Filled Weekend

Yesterday my friend Ali and I drove up into the Foothills for a day at the Highland Games.  There were men in kilts galore, but sadly the young ones were all wearing running tights under their kilts, which tends to ruin the effect (it was COLD!).  The older guys were braver, showing off their knobby knees and goosebumps with pride.  We ate some good food, watched a sheep dog herding some sheep (those dogs are so cool), heard some amazing bagpipes and then two great bands.  The first band we heard was Uncle Hamish and the Hooligans; we loved them enough to buy CDs from the bass player’s mom.  They ended the show with a song that turned into the theme from “Last of the Mohicans” – absolutely wonderful.  Ever since hearing that, I haven’t been able to get the image of Daniel Day-Lewis (Hawkeye) as he says to Cora, “I will find you.  No matter how long it takes, no matter how far, I will find you.”  *delicious shiver*   

Next up was Maidens IV, whose story sounds like something out of a Nora Roberts trilogy, well, quartet.  They’re sisters, 4 out of 9 siblings, who travel around playing Celtic music together.  Mom handles the sound, one of the sister’s husbands runs the CD sales, and between the four of them they play a violin, a viola, a goat-skin drum, keyboards, regular drums, bass and guitar.  It was freezing, but they managed to dance in clogs, sing and play while looking like they were having fun. 

Then tonight I had a different sort of cultural experience; I was invited to a baptism celebration, Ethiopian style.  One of my newer partners at work is from Ethiopia, and his newborn baby boy’s baptism was today.  At the party, we were served traditional Ethiopian food (yummy) and witnessed a traditional Ethiopian coffee bean roasting ceremony.  His priest gave a blessing (in Ethiopian), ending in the Apostle’s Creed, which was instantly recognizable, even though I didn’t understand the language.   I met my partner’s father, who embraced me and kissed me on both cheeks, and was just the nicest man, even though we couldn’t communicate through anything more than smiles.  His mother was much more reserved, but seems so proud of her son and new grandson.  The new baby is just the cutest – chubby cheeks and pouty lips and a round little tummy.  There were tons of children running around, with parents disciplining in English and Ethiopian in between gossiping and lots of laughter. 

As for my blood sugars – I’ve discovered that exercise works wonders.  I went for a long walk today, and since the walk my blood sugars have been perfect, even when eating fruit and chocolate cake at the party today.  It looks like I’ve finally found my incentive to get up and go for a walk every morning!  

A Little Too Sweet

I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned before that one of my areas of interest at work is diabetes in pregnancy.  I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I’m now the doctor who sees just about every pregnant woman in my county if she needs insulin.  A small number of these patients are women who had diabetes before pregnancy, but most of them ended up with gestational diabetes, and when diet alone wasn’t enough to control their sugars they end up being sent to see me.  Sometimes it’s their fault they’re in my office, because they just aren’t doing what they’re supposed to, but many of them really are trying, it’s just not enough.

So of course, when I saw my OB for my first visit, she asked me about my risk factors for diabetes.  My grandmother has diet controlled diabetes, but no one else in my immediate family has any problems, so we decided not to do any early screening on me, instead sticking with the usual plan for a glucose tolerance test at around 26 weeks. 

But then last week I had a horrible lunch.  Someone had brought us barbeque chicken wraps, and the chicken was disgusting, over-cooked and chewy.  I didn’t have time to go out to eat, and so I ended up eating two bites of chicken, then the wrap (with lettuce, sauce and tomatoes without the chicken), two sugar cookies with frosting and 4 snack sized Twizzlers for lunch.  I know, it was a horrible meal, and I didn’t even enjoy it, but I didn’t have anything else to eat.  Not surprisingly, I felt bad a few hours later, so I decided to check my blood sugar... it was high.  A target sugar for someone with gestational diabetes two hours after a meal is 120, but normal is about 105-110.  Mine was 126.  So I started testing – first thing in the morning, and two hours after every meal.  I’ve only had one high after a meal since then, and that was when I was eating out.  All my morning blood sugars have been just a smidgen too high, though, between 88-92.  A target fasting sugar is 90, but normal fastings are in the 60-70s.  That has me worried.  I’m worried about if I’m going to have to start following the gestational diabetic diet (right before the holidays – so unfair!).  I’m worried that getting high blood sugars this early in pregnancy might mean that I have really high blood sugars later in pregnancy.  And I’m really worried that getting high blood sugars this early in pregnancy means that I’m going to get Type 2 diabetes! 

One benefit of being a diabetes specialist is that I have access to things like continuous glucose monitors.  That picture at the top of the page is the receiver for CGM I’m wearing right now.  CMGs are cool little devices; a tiny sensor is inserted just under the skin, and attached to a transmitter.  The sensor constantly measures sugar levels in what’s called the interstitial fluid (the fluid between cells in your skin), and reflects what your blood sugar was about 10-20 minutes earlier.  By wearing one, I can see what my blood sugar is doing all the time, not just when I do a fingerstick blood sugar check.  I’m going to wear it for a week to see what happens to my sugar immediately after eating horrible meals, and what happens when I follow a gestational diabetic diet.  Based on what I’ve seen over the past few days of checking sugars, I have a feeling that I’m going to be able to do ok with just loosely following the diet during the day, and can probably get away with a least some sweets and pastries too.  But the high morning blood sugars are a concern.  I’m going to start doing a bedtime snack every night, to see if that helps (usually that does) and if it doesn’t, I’m going to start metformin.   With my OB’s blessing, of course!  I’ve already decided that if I end up with full blown GDM, I am treating myself.  I know, they say doctors shouldn’t do that, but this is just looking at sugars and dosing insulin.  People with Type 1 diabetes do that on their own all the time, so I think it’s reasonable.  I can just imagine what my chart at my OBs office will say, though.  “Patient refuses referral for GDM education because she says she could teach the class herself if she had to; can already recite diet by heart and has her own glucometer and CGM.”

Quick Primer on Gestational Diabetes aka GDM:

A normal part of pregnancy is that your body doesn't use insulin as well as it usually does, and in response to this increased insulin resistance, your pancreas makes more insulin.  If you already have an increased risk for diabetes, your pancreas might not be able to make enough insulin to cover your body's requirements, and your sugar goes up.  The consequences of high blood sugars (if untreated) are an increased risk of a big baby (with potential trauma to baby and mother during delivery), an increased risk of neonatal hypoglycemia, jaundice and breathing problems, and an increased risk of childhood obesity and type 2 diabetes.  The treatment is diet, followed by insulin of needed, or occasionally an oral agent.  For the mom, the long term concern is that it’s associated with a 50-60% increased risk of type 2 diabetes within 5 years. 

Great.

Loving Circles

Yesterday morning, NPR aired a piece by Susan Stamberg on the memoir Lady Antonia Fraser has recently published about her life with Harold Pinter, the playwright.  In it, Susan says, as she describes the couple:  "They moved in loving circles and lived in love, as well."

I absolutely love that sentence.  I want that sentence to be able to describe me and my family one day.  I want to LIVE that sentence.  I think I've been blessed to be able to say that I move in loving circles - I'm so lucky to have the wonderful friends and family that I do.  I need to hold on to that phrase, so I remember to cultivate those circles and nurture them.  It's so hard to do; it's so easy to get caught up in the mundane details in life and forget the important stuff....

...if I cross-stitched, this would be my next project:

They moved in loving circles and lived in love, as well.

Football in October

I spent yesterday morning on the football field.  It was a beautiful, sunny and chilly fall morning, and it was time for the 4-5 year old set to play flag football!  This is J’s first season of football, and I really wanted to play with my camera and commemorate the season for LB; luckily I got a few really good pictures.  I had such a great time!  Isa was thrilled to see me, and her first question was, “Is it a boy or a girl?”  I swear she thinks I’m delaying finding out, just to torture her!  She introduced me to a few of her friends, each time saying, “This is my Aunt Shannon, she has a baby in her tummy just like my mommy!”

Watching those boys (and one girl on the opposing team) on the field was so much fun.  Rather than bother with lots of verbal instructions on where to stand each play, the coaches frequently would just pick the kids up and move them.  And then when a kid got the ball and started running, all the coaches would point in the direction the child was supposed to run in, and half they time they still ran the wrong way.  But they all looked like they were having fun, and J scored two touchdowns, so he was beside himself with happiness.

Another bonus, the sidelines are really social!  My sister says she imagines that I’ll meet Mr. Right on the sideline of a t-ball game or something like that, and I’m starting to believe there might be some potential there.  And now I know I can actually have fun at little kids’ sporting events, without really knowing all the rules, so I think I’m more likely to make sure that Chiquitita gets signed up for a few sports at least once.

The truth is, I’m not a very good dater.  I’m better at it than I used to be, but I know I tend to put up a wall when I meet men in a social situation, especially when I find them attractive.  I don’t mean to do it, and sometimes I succeed in keeping myself from doing it, but it’s hard work, especially when I’m not sure why I do it in the first place.  It doesn’t help that I tend to be terribly shy in social situations.  That’s improved a lot, thanks to the discovery I made a few years ago that I feel not the tiniest bit of shyness on the job or in work related settings.  But so far that hasn’t really translated into improved dating skills, probably because of the added pressure of my biological clock kicking in at about the same time.  I really believe that I’m going to find it easier to keep that wall down once I have a baby in my life – though I’m not sure I’m going to be too interested in dating for the next few years – and am very hopeful that I will someday meet the right man for me.  But, for the first time in my life, I don’t feel any pressure at all to meet someone.  It’s an amazingly wonderful feeling to have.

Making Room for Baby

I think I mentioned a few weeks ago I’m going to have to do some work on my condo to get it ready for a baby.  I only have one bedroom, but I have an upstairs loft that leads into my bedroom that would be perfect for a nursery.  Except for one drawback - it’s open to the downstairs, with just an iron railing between the floor and the open space below.  Which means the room won’t be quiet, and I won’t be able to put any furniture against the railing, for fear of Chiquitita climbing up on it, leaning over the railing and falling down to the dining room table below.  Hence the idea of taking down the railing, and putting in a wall with a window, to let in some natural light.

The loft and kitchen below (the day I moved in)

Today I met with Bob, my architect, who was wonderful.  He had lots of great suggestions, was able to plot out the size of the landing I’d need at the top of the stairs, and address some of the tricky construction issues that have me nervous this won’t work. He took lots of measurements today, will draw up a plan in the next few days and email it to me.  If I approve, it’ll be sent to the County for a permit.  There is the possibility that they won’t like the shape/size of the landing, and if that’s the case, we’ll just scrap the door and I can put in a baby gate and a thick curtain when the time comes. 

My soon to be nursery started out as my office, and I have a lovely built-in desk surrounded by bookshelves that I had installed when I first moved in.  I wish that I had just bought some bookshelves and a desk that I could easily move out, but since I didn’t do that, I’ve decided to keep the unit installed.  It really is nice, and I think I might be able to turn part of the desk into a changing table.

It's exciting, starting to make plans like this!  But it also makes me a little nervous.  Nervous that I'll get the project done and I'll hate it.  Nervous that I'll never be able to sell my condo because everyone who looks at it will say, "If only this room were an open loft..."  And, for some reason, taking this first step of creating a nursery feels as if I'm finally allowing myself to believe that I really am pregnant, that I really will have a baby in 2011.  No matter how long I've dreamed of this, and how hard I've prayed for this, it still surprises me when I start to think about having a baby being my reality.

It won't be long until there's no way I can avoid believing that I'm really going to be a mom;  I’m at that awkward stage now where other people are probably wondering, “Is she pregnant, or is she just getting fat?”  I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be here yet if I hadn’t gained so much weight the past year, but since I’m here, I have to deal with it!  I spent most of the afternoon going through all the maternity clothes my sister gave me this spring.  I’m very surprised to find that most of the pants fit me now (though with plenty of stretch to allow me to grow and still wear them), but a lot of the shirts are still too big, or already too small (my boobs must be bigger than my sister’s were!)  I’m meeting friends for dinner tonight, and was planning on doing some clothes shopping before we meet up, but I think I’m going to go shoe shopping instead.  I’ve had enough of trying on clothes for one day.

What's in my Tummy

I had dinner on Friday night with my sister’s family, mainly so I could hold Oliver, my now 6 month old nephew, and so I could tell D (my 3 year old nephew) that I’m pregnant.  We ordered our dinners, and once our food had arrived, I was ready to spill my news.  I looked at D and said, “Guess what, I have a baby in my tummy!”  He looked at me for a minute, and then said, “No you don’t, you have a sandwich in there!” 

While he’s not convinced I’m pregnant, he did say he thinks I’m having a girl, and thinks I should name her Snoopy, after his new fish.  For the record:  D is now officially off the baby name committee.

Now that my nausea is just about gone, I find I’m starving all the time.  All. The. Time.  If I’m not careful, I’m going to put on way too much weight!   I’ve decided to start doing what I tell all my pregnant ladies with diabetes to do before eating something bad, and ask myself, “Is this good for the baby?”  It’s silly, but it works!  That plan starts tomorrow, so tonight I had my Thai takeout, with candy corn for dessert.  But tomorrow it’s grilled chicken and steamed veggies, with fruit for dessert.  Which, after eating lots of really boring foods for the past few months, doesn’t actually sound all that bad!

Oh, and as for Facebook - I'm truly amazed by the responses I got to my news!  Lots of congratulations, (even from the conservative friends who I was afraid might defriend me with my announcement!) and not a single question, not even as an email.  I'm printing out the responses and saving them for my baby book, they were that great.