35 weeks

I wanted to update sooner, but things have been NUTS here! Thus my computer time has been severely limited.

In news: I had my shower! It was fantastic! There were a ton of people there and we got so much awesome stuff! I feel so blessed that so many people love Baby A this much already. I also had numerous people BEG for the privilege of babysitting A when he is born. I love being surrounded by such a fantastic, loving, compassionate group of friends and family.

I will be updating my myspace page soon with pics of all our gifts, but the reality is, it will take a while to take pictures of them all because we have some very generous people in our lives.

In making-everyone-want-to-gag-news: I LOVE being pregnant! I love, love, love being pregnant. I have been so fortunate to have a very easy pregnancy and even now, with only a handful of weeks to go, I feel fantastic! At this point, I would happily have 10 kids. I can only hope and pray that my labor, delivery and parenting my son will be as good as my pregnancy has been. I was concerned my lack of "symptomatology" was a bad sign that I would lose this baby as well, but now I believe I am just extremely fortunate to be a woman who is able to handle the hormone influx well, gain the baby weight slowly, carry the baby more on the inside so I have a smaller belly and is just plain happy pregnant! Not only has the conception of this child been an answer to my prayers, this pregnancy has been a miracle that I don't take lightly.

One whole year

Anyone else noticed that the majority of my posts recently have been comprised of various time formats? Eh, maybe it's just me.

A little more than a year ago my nephew, my godson was born. He's been the joy of my life since the day he was born and absolutely adores his Auntie and Uncle. He actually prefers us to some of his blood family (not that I can blame him). Even through the miscarriage, he healed me in a way that no one else could with nothing more than a goofy grin and contagious laugh.

C, I adore you. I love you. You are a sweet, bright, amazing little boy. You have been so wanted by so many people in your life and we are just thrilled you are here. I can not wait to see where you go, what paths you take and how you grow and learn as you get older. You are a joy to have around sweetheart. Love Always, Auntie Krissy.

I am getting so angry right now

For once, this has nothing to do with TTC.

I am getting sick and tired of having "Welcome" tattooed across my body. I am tired of going out of my way, of asking my friends to do favors for me, of working my butt off for other people and then having them completely disregard me.

I am tired of causing fights between me and Husband because his friend is mad at him for calling in said favor. I am tired of people making rash decisions based on emotion rather than thinking carefully about what they is really best for them.

And really, if this person would think about it, they would realize that the person they think just loves and adores them may be a big, fat liar whereas I have their best interest at heart.

Or, at least, I used to. If they value their future so little, then I won't bother stressing myself out for them.

Sometimes things just suck

I don't really even know where to begin with this because I don't really know where I am with this.

Before I was even born, before I was even a thought in the mind's of either of my parents, before my parents even met, my father and his family had some issues. I won't even get in to all of the issues (to be honest, the "issues" seem to depend on which family member you talk to), but suffice it to say, it left some major rifts within the family. As time progressed, some things seemed to get slightly better, meaning people actually started talking to each other again. By the time I came along, there was something resembling a truce amongst some of them.

As tends to happen, more drama ensued (again, the actual drama depends on who you talk to) and there was more cessation of familial relationships. Put simply, a lot of my family was kept out of my life some by their own choice, some because the choice was made for them.

Now, I am losing a member of my family that I don't even know. As the prospect of mourning the loss of his life because more real by the day, I can't help but mourn the lost relationship I was not allowed to have with him because my dad was angry at other family members. I am saddened by the fact that, in my mid-twenties, there are innumerable members of my family I have never even met. When I was younger, I didn't even know they existed. The loss of this family member has reignited the mourning I have for the entire family I have never gotten a chance to really know.

When I lost my grandmother two years ago, I remember thinking, "I have no grandparents left". That isn't true. I have another grandmother and a step-grandfather. I have a grandfather and a step-grandmother. One set of them dislike and distrust me because I am my father's daughter and the hurt he inflicted has never left them. The other set got a false impression of me while I was losing my dad and after he passed. Even though I have two sets of grandparents that physically exist, I don't feel like they are real to me and I am so envious of my cousins who get to have the reality of them in their lives.

Yes, I am hormonal. The whole miscarriage thing is bothering me. Hearing that the loss of this amazing person that I've never had the privilege to meet is on the horizon has made that even worse.

Not too much cheer around this blog lately. Feel free to find a place more fun to visit.

Anyone have a Band-Aid for my tongue?

At the current rate I'm going, I'll need it from biting it so much.

I love my little Peanut. He's such a sweet, pleasant little boy and, best of all, he loves to cuddle with Auntie Krissy. The other day the three of us (him, me and his mother) were at Olive Garden for lunch when he began to get fussy. I told his mom to stay put and enjoy her meal while I took care of him. I picked him up and he just cuddled right into me. We sat for fifteen minutes just cuddling. I adore those moments with him because I know in a few months he will want to crawl and explore rather than cuddle.

But the reason for the tongue biting is his mother. While we were shopping for Peanut's christening outfit, the topic of godparents came up. Now, Peanut's dad is Catholic, his mom is Presbyterian, they want him to be christened in both churches so he can make a choice about what religion he wants to be a part of when he grows up.

Obviously, in the Catholic church, he has to have Catholic godparents. I asked if they were going to have the same godparents for his Presbyterian christening, she said no.

Perhaps it was forward of me, but I assumed Husband and I would be the natural choice for godparents if religion were not an issue. We have seen Peanut at least 4 or 5 times a month since he was born, we saw him when he was five days old, we were his first baby-sitters and even his parents have commented on how happy Peanut is when I am with him, holding him and playing with him. All this, in addition to the fact Husband and BIL are such close, inseparable friends, they refer to one another as brother rather than friend (Husband even calls BIL's mom his other mom) would translate to godparent status to me, right?

Wrong.

SIL informed me that they have chosen friends who have seen Peanut a total of two times in his entire five months on this earth, who live five hours away and who have known BIL & SIL a lot less time than Husband and I have.

All that is to say, I understand it's the parent's choice to pick whoever they want to be their child's godparents, I'm not faulting them for that, I'm just saying I am very hurt it wasn't me. And by the sounds of their comments, we weren't even considered for that position.

Perhaps it's the emotions of TTC. Perhaps I am overly emotional because of the supplements, but I have spent a lot of time crying over the fact they are asking someone else to be his godparents.

Grrrr at...

• OPKs. I am continually getting negative OPKs, but tonight while I was standing at the sink doing dishes, I got a very distinct ovulation pain on my left side. I guess tomorrow's temps will tell me for sure, but I am almost certain I ovulated today, whether or not my OPK agrees.
  
• My brother. As annoyed as I am that my neice is expecting before I am, he promised to send the 3-D, color ultrasound she had done recently. He promised to email it on Saturday. Today is Monday. No email.
  
• The local hospital. For incorrectly billing me for bloodwork. Twice.
  

I'm in an unhappy mood. Promise happier things tomorrow, stay tuned.

I knew I loved Dr. Sears for a reason!

Disclaimer: This entire post will sound very self-righteous and judgemental of me. Even moreso than my normal critiques of the parenting styles of BrotherB and SIL. However, this is my blog, my place to complain :-)

A friend of mine asked me the other day if I felt BrotherB was a good influence on Husband. My initial reaction is yes. BB has taught Husband a lot and has been an invaluable source of help numerous times. But something interesting occured after the appearance of Peanut. BB's influence on Husband has become more of a lesson in what not to do than in good parenting techniques. Husband frequently comments that he feels Peanut is more of an accessory for BB & SIL than a child. Sadly, I have to agree.

Unfortunately, Husband doesn't pick up on all the things and now feels that certain ways they parent are the only possible choices. More specifically, he thinks it's impossible to raise a child without a pacifier. When Husband disagrees with me on something, I fall back on my research-a-holic tendencies. We recently went over the cloth diaper vs disposable diaper issue. His inbox was filled with statistics, reports and articles within three hours :-)

So while in search of an article that would highlight the problems with pacifiers and alternatives that soothe as well without adversely affecting breastfeeding, I came across this resource on Dr. Sears' website, in particular, this point:

Times To Pull The Plug:
As habitual substitutes for nurturing. Ideally, pacifiers are for the comfort of babies, not the convenience of parents (but I have yet to meet the ideal parent or the ideal baby and, believe it or not, you probably won't meet any on this site.) To insert the plug and leave baby in the plastic infant seat every time he cries is unhealthy reliance on an artificial comforter. This baby needs picking up and holding. Always relying on an alternative peacemaker lessens the buildup of baby's trust in the parents and denies the parents a chance to develop baby comforting skills. Pacifiers are meant to satisfy intense sucking needs, not to delay or replace nurturing. A person should always be at the other end of a comforting tool. The breast (or the
finger) has the built-in advantage of making sure you don't fall into the habit of just plugging up the source of the cries as a mechanical gesture. When baby cries, if you find yourself, by reflex, reaching for the pacifier instead of reaching for your baby, pull the plug – and lose it.

Husband loves getting emails from me :-)

That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet

I've begun to think (because I'm not overanalyzing the entire TTC process enough, I need to begin overanalyzing my unconceived child's life) about what my kids will call me.

I decided when Husband and I were first married that my children would call his parents Nonna and Nonno, Italian for Grandma and Grandpa, respectively. My neices call my mom Grams and, if that's her preference, she's more than welcome to have my kids call her that. Basically what my kids call my mom is totally up to her.

Husband wants to be Daddy. He is in love with the title and can't wait to hear it.

Me? No clue. I have a very specific title for my mom and think it would be adorable for my kids to call me the same thing, but it's a title I came by. I can't tell you where I got it, I can't tell you when it started, but I began calling her it a very, very long time ago and have ever since. Interestingly enough, although not prompted or suggested that I call her it, my mother adores the nickname.

I'm not married to one specific title and I think it will be interesting how I address myself and how, eventually, my child addresses me.

As long as it's not a word I'd be embarrassed to have them call out loudly in the grocery and as long as they don't call me by my first name (a huge pet peeve of mine), I'll just be thankful to be their parent.

The birthday, recapped

I know the premise of this blog is all baby related, but since I will be the housing unit for said future child for 40 (hopefully) weeks and it's nourishment until he/she decides to wean, I think I could do a little Krissy talk for a bit.

Okay, Krissy whine is more appropriate.

Yesterday was my birthday. Now, this was not a monumental birthday, i.e. it wasn't my 10th, 13th, 16th, 18th, 21st or 30th bday, but it was still the anniversary of the date I entered the world.

As usual my mom went above and beyond just because she's my mom and is happier than anyone else that I am alive.

My doctor and coworkers remembered my bday (the truth is, I think my coworkers only remember anyone else on staff's bday because it means the doctor will buy us lunch and cake). And, in his usual fashion, my doctor closely examined my face for wrinkles. What a charmer.

Husband, however, disappointed me. For many years now, I've received a dozen roses from him, delivered to my work on my birthday (or close to it). Not this year. And when I was asked by people what he got me for my birthday, all I could say was, "Nothing." Not even a card.

Now, when he got home from work he brought me a dozen roses, but they appeared to have been bought last minute and weren't the perkiest roses if you know what I mean.

In his defense, he promised me that next weekend, when we have some free time to go shopping together, he wants to buy me new clothes for summer as none of my clothes from last year fit anymore. Don't know why, but something about losing 120 pounds makes your old wardrobe baggy ;-) But next weekend isn't my birthday! Yesterday was my birthday!

I've never been overly concerned with my birthday before. I've never really cared whether anyone remembered or forgot, but this year it's bothering me. Maybe it's the hormones, maybe it's the fact that I have siblings who ignored the anniversary of my birth as well.

Maybe I am just being a pain in the butt :-)

In other news, six more days!

He may actually be ready

In many ways, Husband has been ready for a baby for a while now. He loves children and interacts with them well. Mostly because his maturity is right on their level ;-)

But when it comes to practical child care, more specifically baby care, he has been pretty uninterested. Anytime a baby cries or needs to be changed, he is more than happy to hand him or her off. Kind of typical for a guy, but not something that a woman who wants to have a baby with her partner wants to see.

I had a serious talk with Husband about this a while ago. I basically said that we are finally in a position financially, medically and relationship-wise to have a baby. This is something we both want and we both need to take it seriously. Part of that seriousness is that he needs to be committed to being a true partner with me in this. That means being willing to handle a crying baby and do all the ridiculous things people do to attempt to calm said baby. That also means changing diapers. With all substances enclosed. He's been unwilling to do this.

He called me tonight, very proud of himself.

He changed the nephew's diaper. A very, very messy diaper. And changed his outfit. All by himself.

I'm impressed.

Silence Sucks

There is someone in my life, someone I've mentioned on here before, who means a lot to me. She is related to me by blood, but we have a friendship that, I feel, transcends those basic familial ties.

I remember discussing her first pregnancy and traumatic birth experience. I remember the great openness we had when she decided to try for her third child, especially since I was finally in a position to seriously consider having a child of my own. I remember cheering her on through her second pregnancy, even though I was a little emotionally tender from hearing about it, I kept the pom-poms upright and the pleated skirt straight. And I remember doing my absolute best to support her in the aftermath of yet another medically terrifying and emotionally crushing delivery.

I always planned on having her with me when I went on this TTC journey for real. I wanted to email her my updates, rants and raves. Send tons of meaningless links about cribs, cradles, breastfeeding, parenting and tons more. Coming up with some adorable way to proclaim the actual conception and immediately giving it to her. Sending the inevitable belly pictures.

But I haven't. I can't.

Her two prior traumatic births and current reproductive uncertainty have left a larger scar than I had originally thought. She recently wrote me to vent about her best friend, her sister, who has be unreasonably gush-y in the whole pregnancy/baby department. I completely understand where she is coming from and I am happy that I could help, in some small way, by just listening. But it's given me a bit of a complex. I am very scared of saying something to hurt her, the last thing I'd ever want to do. So I say nothing.

It kills me, but I say nothing.

When addictions collide

I think that the baby obsession I have is obvious, a lesser known, but equally pathetic compulsion of mine is interior design. I've put innumerable hours into painstakingly searching for the ideal themes and accents for my home. I take pride in being a creative, yet sophisticated person and like my home to reflect that. I am also huge on having my home be a "show piece" so to speak. I enjoy the fact that our friends drool when they visit.

Unfortunately today, two of my major fixations met for coffee, got to know each other and before you knew it were married in Vegas forming an unholy union known as Nursery Decor. Moreover, the "Rate My Space" gallery of nursery decor available on www.hgtv.com.

In addition to spending copious amounts of time on said website, I was reminded of a favorite guilty pleasure of mine, Babies R Us. Yes, I can hear the groaning already. It's an overpriced pit filled with useless objects in cute shapes and colors to lure emotional new parents, family and friends into bankruptcy. But they do have some amazing bedding sets.

Since the last time I ventured down this destructive path, some new ones have been added. Enjoy the descent into frivolosity (my new word o' the day):

Lambs & Ivy Froggy Tales

Green Acres by Glenna Jean

Dream With Me by Glenna Jean

Dragonfly by Baby Fish

The Nephew

I admit that I have spent an insane amount of time thinking, okay, obsessing about when Husband and I should try for a child. Because of that, I feel that others should do the same. I understand that there are such things as "oops" babies, however, when you are planning to have a child, I don't think it should just be because you want to, but also because it's the right time in every sense.

Husband's brother and sister-in-law, however, don't share in my thinking. Let me set the scene for you, they are:

• $250,000.00 (a quarter of a million dollars) in debt.
• Husband's brother likes "toys" with big price tags, in spite of their debt, he continues to buy the cameras, models and computer equipment he so longs for.
• The sister-in-law is incapable of making her own decisions. Didn't even choose her own wedding gown or home decor. Um, yeah.
• Their combined salary is that of just Husband's.
• While I adore them both, the brother can be selfish at times and the sister-in-law is indulgent.
• They have barely personalized their home in any way. It's still very stark, very sterile.

When my brain computes this info it comes back with big red flags saying: "Not ready! Not ready!" Apparently brother and sister-in-law disagree since I have this adorable, precious little creature called nephew.

In addition to all the points I highlighted, they also had to add another $10,000 to their debt because sister-in-law has a condition where she is unable to conceive and requires donor eggs. Yep, that means invitro fertilization. See where I am going with this one?

I don't mean to say I am not tickled pink for them, I am.

I don't mean to say I am not thrilled more than words can describe that my gorgeous nephew is here, I am.

I don't mean to say I think they are horrible people, I don't.

My point is, I am just irritated at having waited and planned to such an excruciating detail, making sure every little thing is covered before making this decision. This has involved several dates that were later rescheduled, much to my ire. And I am further annoyed that some people don't care about the meaningless details which have driven me for the past two years.

Yeah, basically I am taking out my frustration on them.

Four days ago my nephew was born

Over the course of the past five and a half years of marriage, the subject of children has come up repeatedly. There were always reasons, logical reasons, not to have them. And, surprisingly, on my reflection of this, almost all my criteria has been met.

• Buy a house: Check
• Husband have secure career making substantial income: Check
• Become physically fit: Check
• Be financially stable: Check
• Have full medical coverage: Check
• Have familial support nearby: Check
• Have close friends with young children: Check
• Be informed about parenting: Check
  

So when my nephew was born, and both Husband and I became so excited and enthralled with this new little being, even more delighted than the new father, I just felt like it was finally time to make the decision. I've thrown out dates before, but always found reasons to back out. Now? Well, now I have a deep longing and no good reason to prolong this any further.

We've finally, finally decided that this time there will not be a rescheduling of our TTC date. It is not a year in the future. It is not some random date chosen out of a heart of desperation for a baby with no logical input applied. This is our painstakingly thought out and planned date to try for our first baby. And this time, it will not change.

I don't yet know who I will choose to share this blog with. It's going to contain so many of my personal outcryings and emotional ramblings, I am scared to put it out there to all those I know.

Welcome to the world, little one, and thanks for stirring my heart enough to finally make a decision. I love you.