Children | spelhouseLove

3 Arrows in Our Quiver?

Written in January: I found out almost two weeks ago that I’m pregnant with Victor baby number three, but I don’t feel pregnant. Now, I know, I know, the experts say every pregnancy is different, but this is my fifth pregnancy. I have a little bit of experience with what pregnancy feels like in this one body that I have. On the top ten list of symptoms, I really only have item number ten, a positive pregnancy test. I am troubled and concerned by this because the last two times I felt this way it ended in miscarriage.

I have been trying not to get my hopes up with this child, but last night I had a dream that I cannot shake off. I dreamt that this little bonnet in the oven was our first girl, and she arrived in this world complication free. We were actually at home, and after she come out, I was able to get up and walk around! Talk about a dream! Immediately, I was full with nourishment and nursed her. Why would I dream that? Now, I am so excited about that possibility coming true, but… I don’t have symptoms #1 through #9, so I don’t know what to feel.

I have anticipation for being pregnant again, and I was a bit reluctant to celebrate, but after this dream I want it. I want it bad. I want to feel a baby swirling inside of me. I want the intimacy of my baby always being with me, growing in me, and feeling me. I want an infant, a cute little infant. The biggest joy of my dream was that I had a little girl. I had a mini me. I was soooo joyful in that dream. And now I wonder, was it just a dream? Or will this be my reality in September?

What do I do? Do I bombard the nearest lab and take HCG test after test monitoring my hormones. I think back to our last miscarriage. The pregnancy started out symptom free. So much so, I didn’t realize I was pregnant until my belly button started popping at eight weeks (I was still nursing eight month old Gadget at the time). This fifth pregnancy mirrors our second miscarriage so much how can I proceed on hope, when my body speaks loss to me so clearly.

I went to Target the other day and walked through the baby section. I looked for the purple dress I was going to dress my first daughter in (yes purple, never pink), and I almost bought a cute little something. But then I put it back, because imagine the heartache staring at it after yet another miscarriage. A third miscarriage. Are these really becoming common place in my life? Loss, baby, loss, baby, loss… I don’t like that trend.

Living in limbo is hard. You would think seeing the words “pregnant” on the screen would be enough for celebration. Whooaaaaaa! I gotta pause for just one second. I just heard myself. I just heard the doubt wringing off of those words. I believe the scripture says, Hope is the evidence of things unseen. I have absolutely no evidence this pregnancy will progress healthily. I don’t know what God’s plan is for this child. I don’t know if chromosomal abnormalities exist, and God took her life yesterday in a week or two, but I have been charged to believe God’s word and to live it. Right now, I am walking in faith that this baby will grow inside of me for forty weeks and arrive on this earth as a healthy and beautiful daughter. Period.

March 5th, 2010 • Baby #3, Children, Family Planning, Fatherhood, Motherhood, Pregnancy, Wife.

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Thoughts on Baby #3

Whenever we’re out and about and folks see the boys in the double stroller we are frequently asked if they are twins. The first time it happened it baffled me because they are nearly two years apart. I thought, one of them is clearly an infant and the other one can walk and talk, sooo… But after the second, third and forty sixth time, we have come to expect it. The next ensuing question is usually, ‘Are you gonna try for the girl?’

I love this question! No, I do not love this question. I am kidding. This is such a loaded question. In so many ways. My response is usually a smile and “we’ll see!” But, the honest answer is that we would love to have a third child. We are only children, and we came into this marriage expecting to share our lives with five or six little ones, so with two kids we’re just getting started.

We have two prerequisites for bringing another child into our lives. The first is that we have the time for a third little one running around. When I was traveling with the boys, I couldn’t fathom traveling with yet one more person clinging, crying or running around. Some evenings when I come home, all I want to do is wrestle with the boys and give hugs and kisses. Other nights, I want to put on my headphones and watch my hulu queue. There is a balance that exists right now, and that would be thrown out of wack if we added another person into the mix. One of hubby’s associates told us that going from 2 to 3 is nothing compared to going from 1 to 2. Ha! Aside the from the time it would take to nurture and care for a little baby, we would have to make some serious logistical changes, and this is where requirement number two comes in.

We desire to have the financial independence and security for a third child. This means upgrading to a three row vehicle, and figuring out the infancy, daycare, preschool shuttle run that would take place in the morning. We would love for our children to receive full scholarships to college, but if they don’t, we would like to be in a place to pay for college for them. Besides those two small things, we’re all set! Kinda.

We would have to examine this from an emotional perspective. Some days I can’t wait to be pregnant again. It’s so exciting and awesome to carry your own child. The intimacy formed during pregnancy is so intense and fulfilling, the urge has started to come around again. Some days I think about the side effects, the weight gain and labor, when I am just getting back down to the tummy size I desire. I also think about how crazy it would be at times, and then imagine on top of that four more relationships. Yes, four more. Baby to me, baby to hubby, baby to Amari and baby to Joshua. That’s a lot of relationships in one household, and they would all put pressure on the existing relationships and require us (me and hubby) to nurture and build the new ones to be just as strong as the existing.

In the end, I still read pregnancy magazines. I still look at awe when I set baby bumps out and about. I refuse to give away the boys’ baby clothes. I’m waiting in anticipation for us to figure out the timing for the next one.

December 1st, 2009 • Children, Family Planning, Motherhood.

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Gallbladder Disease

I woke up at 4AM on Monday morning with nausea. Hubby was up getting ready for work, and I ran into the bathroom only to dry heave over the toilet. I crawled back into bed, trying hard to fall back to sleep for the next two hours, but something wasn’t right. I propped the pillows up so I wouldn’t feel the nausea so strongly. As hubby was going out the door, I ran back into the bathroom, to begin the process of emptying my stomach

I threw up a few more times, accompanied by diarrhea. I was in the shower, still contemplating whether or not I was going to go to work, when I threw up again. As this point I decided for sure that I was not going to work, only because I did not want to vomit in the middle of a meeting. I dressed and headed to the boys’ rooms to get them ready for daycare. I was crying at this point because I was so nauseous and in pain, and Amari kept telling me he would make it all better. Of course, the night before I had volunteered to carpool with a co-worker, so when she arrived and saw my red and watery eyes, pale face and shaking hands, she immediately refused me to drive her to work and helped me put the boys in the car.

After dropping off the boys, I headed straight to the nearest urgent care center. I was seen immediately, which was a shock. I guess it was slow on Monday morning. I explained my symptoms: It felt like I was having a gallbladder attack, except I no longer have my gallbladder. You see, three years ago I had my gallbladder removed, and that story goes like this:

If can you imagine the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced, and concentrate it all in the pit of your stomach, then liken that feeling to my gallbladder disease. Gallbladder disease? What was a (then) twenty-six year old doing with gallbladder disease?

I had my first gallbladder attack the day before New Year’s in 2005. I was eight weeks pregnant with Amari and glowing on the inside. Hubby’s mom was in town for Christmas, and we’d driven to Virginia to celebrate old years with some friends. The day we arrived I was starving with the I’m-pregnant-and-hungry-so-I’m-fully-entitled-to-eat-whatever-I-want kind of hunger that convinced me to eat an Arby’s bacon cheese burger, curly fries, and top it off with some McDonald’s french fries. Not a smooth move on my part at all. This meal came with plenty of warning from hubby, the “Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you can eat anything” type of warning.

That night I couldn’t sleep. My back started a pulsing pain that grew from nauseous to full blown, excruciating, let’s call the doctor at 5 AM type of pain. I lost count on the number of times dinner came back up. So sorry if that grosses you out. The doctor said that nausea and vomiting were normal in pregnancy, but at this intensity and frequency I questioned him??? He sounded so tired and annoyed that yet another new mom was in shock while experiencing the common pregnancy symptoms. Only, this time he was wrong.

Water would not even stay down, and hubby helped as much as he could. I was so embarrassed because we were staying at someone else’s house, and I was sicker than I’d ever been before. I didn’t like to throw up, let alone possibly have people I’m not that close to hear it! My back was sore for over a week after that episode. My second episode occurred the day my one million dollar in capital project was to launch at work. Great. I stayed up all night with my bucket, and then drove to work the next morning. Again, what was I thinking?? I could barely keep my eyes open on the rode. I remember pulling into the parking lot at work, opening the door and emptying my stomach some more, going inside to bathroom to empty it even more, and then going to my boss’ office. My eyes were red and watery, I’m sure I smelled like green slime. He sent me home, thank God.

The third, fourth, fifth, sixth… episodes occurred on such a regular basis I think my boss planned not to see me once every two weeks. The OB prescribed every type of pregnancy-safe anti-nausea pill on the market. I figured out throughout the course of Amari’s pregnancy that any food with oil in it set off the reaction.

After Amari was born all my symptoms disappeared. In February of 2007 since I was still exclusively breastfeeding, we managed to get pregnant and not realize it for several weeks. For Mother’s Day (my first mother’s day), we went to Bahama Breeze for one of my favorite meals, Cuban Bread and Habenaro wings, yum!

By the time we got home, the back pain had started. It was like a bulls-eye magnifying a target, and pain was the shooter. I thought, I absolutely positively CANNOT go through this again. I asked hubby to call 911. He didn’t want the whole neighborhood in our business, so hubby drove me to the ER instead.

I was crying, moaning and yelling in pain, partly because it hurt that bad, and partly because I was hoping it would speed up the wait time. I saw nurse after nurse and explained and re-explained my symptoms. Finally, after about eight hours in the ER, I saw an actual doctor. I explained (again) my symptoms and he immediately asked if the pain was concentrated on my right side. Hmmm…..I had never considered… why yes, yes indeed it was. He knew instinctively, and ordered an ultrasound. On my scan the technician pointed out my gallstones. There were several, some big, some small. This scan officially diagnosed me with acute and chronic gallbladder disease. I was so glad a doctor had finally figured it out!! But so angry at all the different OB’s I had seen at Garden State OBGYN. They ALL wrote me off as having regular pregnancy symptoms. I counted, I did not eat for 22 days of my pregnancy with Amari due to my gallbladder.

After I had my gallbladder removed, all my negative symptoms disappeared… until this Monday morning. I was reliving the horrible experience all over again and asking God, begging God, please not again. I thought maybe it was an ulcer, a hidden gallstone, I don’t know, but it had to be major. When the urgent care doctor suggested it was just a stomach virus I challenged him and made him doubt himself so much they admitted me to the hospital. I refused to go through years of pain again because I was not in charge of my health care. I had my first catscan and the results came back clear.

I had mixed emotions about the results, because I knew something had caused this episode, but glad that I would not be on an operating table later that afternoon. I was scorned by irresponsible doctors and felt as though I had to demand preventative measures this time. I was adamant that it was not just bad food making me feel this way. They discharged me and told me to come back if my symptoms worsened. I was given Zofran to stop the vomiting, so when I returned how (after hubby left work early to pick up the boys), I filled my prescription of pain killers for my stomach and headed home. I was starving my dinner time and had an orange, a rice cake and a glass of water. I know I wasn’t supposed to eat the orange, but it calmed a gallbladder episode, so I was hopeful. I spent the next hour regretting that decision. In the morning, I was faint and weak from not eating, and asked hubby to bring something stomach safe. I had a bite of toast and apple juice, and again it did not stay down. I was so disappointed because I was really hungry and exhausted.

Against my parents and husband’s advice, I went to work, only to be shooed out of the office by caring co-workers. It was an eventful Monday, one I hope to never repeat.

November 27th, 2009 • Children, Family Planning, Gadget, Pregnancy, Wife.

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Stroller Hunt

Today I decided it was our last day using the Maclaren. On the heels of the million stroller recall, I decided I would discontinue it’s use. I briefly searched the internet for advice, and I quickly came across Let’s Go Strolling which gave me a free stroller consultation. I have landed on the UPPAbaby GLite. I am in search to try it out in person and see how it moves. We had no luck at Bed, Bath and Beyond tonight. The GLite is cheaper than the Maclaren and weighs less, so I hope finding a replacement umbrella stroller does not occupy any more time that it already has.

November 20th, 2009 • Children.

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Four Hands vs. Two Part I

Traveling solo with two little boys is a challenging task. The first time I did this, I flew to Minnesota to visit my mother when she had a stroke in March. She requested to see the boys, so naively, I booked a ticket for myself and Amari, and Joshua travelled as a lap child. The highlight of that trip was when the flight attendant came around with drinks, and Amari spilt orange juice all over his pants. While I was trying to clean it up, while holding Joshua, I managed to spill a cup of water on Joshua. Amari immediately insisted that I remove his pants because they were wet and cold. That is a totally justified request, except, I did not have an extra change of clothes and it was winter in Minnesota.

Negotiating with a then, two-year old usually finds me caving in, so upon deplaning, Amari wore a sweater and his diaper. We were one of the first passengers off, so while I struggled to open the stroller in the jet way (while holding Joshua), Amari stood and shivered in his diaper as passerby’s gave disapproving looks of my toddler in his nappy. Because clearly I intended for him to travel half-naked.

Upon remembering this experience, I confidently said I would only take Joshua on my second trip to Minnesota this year, because his travel was free of charge. Unfortunately, hubby was still studying for his series 7, and the weekend was primetime for studying. So, I sucked it up and bought the ticket for Amari. This time, however, I booked a direct flight. It was at the expense of me having to drive to JFK to catch the flight. I figured I only have one ten year high school reunion, and would regret missing it because I chose not to experience five or six hours of stressful travel.

Surprisingly, the rest of the flight to MSP was problem free and easy. The boys only cried for about ten minutes on the plane and then went to sleep. (I know I just belittled those ten minutes, but imagine being the passenger in the seat in front of us, listening to two boys cry and whine and thinking, “is this going to last the entire flight?!!!”) When we landed, since we were the last ones off, I asked the pilot if Amari could take a picture with him, and he did me one better. He let the boy command the cockpit!