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First of all, I am technically OK, I think. I appreciate all the emails and calls and texts and well-wishes and offers of food, taking my children off my hands, and sympathy...cause you know I'm a total sucker for that. I will take all the offers very seriously...and if I need you, I will totally call. Right now I'm trying not to be a total wuss. I hate putting people out. But your thoughts and expressions were really heartfelt, and I wanted to say thank you all.
Jeff asked his HR rep. about the possibility of finagling some type of "getting insurance to kick in sooner" episode. (And not that I'm not naive or anything, but she DID say something about it to Jeff when he started his new job, so it's always been a hope--on the other hand, she also lost his W2 for over a month....so I had my doubts). No dice. I have to keep Sydney in me until December first, NO earlier, or we get nada. We've paid for her up to this point...the tests, the exams, the "how do you feels, and baby sounds healthys", and now it's a waiting game...to hopefully get her to stay put until at least two Sundays from now, at midnight. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Until that time, I'll be bed bound. And seeing as this is my second day, I know that I'm not going to handle this well. Bed rest is boring. Not drinking my daily Diet Mountain Dew is maddening, and missing out on all these things that I've seriously been looking forward to for the last month, is killing me. Plus, there's the fact that I'm even grouchier than usual because I'm feeling sorry for myself, and my kiddos deserve better. I'm going to try to be better, just for them, but I'm whining, too. A tiger can't change its stripes, right? Anyway, that's that for now. Just thought I'd fill you in.
Hope all is well in your lives...because stress and the crap that goes along with it, sucks. I know that a lot of you are dealing with stuff like this, and worse...and honestly, my heart goes out to you. So please just take my whining with a grain of salt, as I know that I'm a weak woman in the sense that when it's something out of the ordinary, I panic. But for those of you that deal daily with hardships and tears, I am thinking about you. You are in my prayers, and please know that though I'm lazy right now, I won't always be...and if help is needed, I'd be happy to oblige. If I were a better person, I wouldn't have to tell anyone that I was willing to help with stuff...but I know that because of my complaining, I have effectively created a picture of me being selfish and crass...and I'm not ALWAYS like that. Anyway, thanks again, and people, work on your blogs. I've got a lot of time with just me and my computer....and if you want to be extra nice to me, give me stuff to stalk--and comment on. Later dudes.
Okay. So I went to the doctor's office today. This post may get a little unsavory. So for my readers that are grossed out by my usual frankness, you may want to skip this one.
I've been feeling crappier than usual. This isn't too surprising to me, seeing as how I always feel crappy during pregnancy. I'm also a hypochondriac, so anything that seems out of the ordinary, to me, is dire straits. I mean, I can handle pain. I don't have a problem with needles or being poked and prodded, or tests or cuts, or really any of that stuff. (Also, I know I complain about the pain of exams, but that is all really in my head, and I know this...it's emotionally painful to me to know that someone that I really don't know is digging around in an area that I'm pretty protective of...and looking for signs of life. It's more of a "please don't look at me" feeling, rather than actual pain). I am, however, very concerned about the unknown...and symptoms that may match negative outcomes. It's a conundrum, I know, but I've told you before--not a lot about me is rational.
Anyway, lately I've been having what I thought were possible little contractions. Not that I would know, because I've never had one that hasn't been given to me, by Pitocin. Contractions, and labor, though they hurt, I know that this is what's expected to get the baby out, and so I deal. However, it's completely different to me when I'm in my bed, at night, worrying about the possibility of needing to go to the hospital, exactly two weeks before our insurance kicks in. This makes for some nasty nightmares.
So, while I've been having some unusual pain, I have been quite stoic, and just dealt with it; rationalizing that perhaps this is normal stuff, and I wouldn't know just cause it's never happened before. Also, these little so-called contractions, if that's what they were, would help to soften and open my cervix. Maybe making labor more of a natural issue for me, rather than one that has to be planned down to the last second, as with Riley and Cole.
Anyway, today I find out that despite my trying to be a "big girl" about the uncertainty, and the dizziness, and the overall fatigue that I get from EVERYTHING, I'm actually in the early stage of Preeclampsia. According to my urine test, I have a plus one in protein...and should it get any higher, the doctor told me he'll have to "take the baby" next week. By C-section? By just inducing? I don't know and he didn't say. He DID say to come into his office IMMEDIATELY should I feel rotten (and hello, I always do), have a persistent headache (this is something that happens continually throughout), or start to see spots in my vision (which has been happening daily for the last eight weeks). You don't tell a hypochondriac this information...it just gives us too many possibilities. So right now, Jeff has confined me to bed rest. Also, he's banned all soda/caffeine. (And this, I assure you, will be the death of me). The problem is, though bed rest sounds great...I have two other kids that need to be taken to and from school. And helped with homework, and fed, and played with, and I already feel like a completely negligent mother. Also, I'm seriously going to go out of my mind.
So, Jeff is going to check with his HR rep. tomorrow. Hopefully, there may be a string that can be pulled or something....something that will establish his being there for three months, (which he has), and in some way get our insurance to kick in a few days sooner. If not, it's bed rest for me, which is really sad, because this means that Book club, and my weekend movie retreat that I have be PLANNING on for so long, looking forward to for so long, will have to go on without me. And then next week, I'll miss DATS...my heart hurts just thinking about it. While all are going on...I'll be in bed. Miserable and angry.
So I'm asking for some positive vibes to be sent this way. I'm hoping that some miracle will happen with the whole insurance process...and this way, I don't have to worry about my blood pressure spiking just because of worrying about this whole situation. Anyway, that is the update for now. Apparently peeing into a cup each time does do something--too bad it's biting me in the butt. I'll keep you informed.
So this is what I found in my sixth picture folder, picture # 6. Though it's hard to see, it is Riley squinting out of one of the Prairie Dog holes at the Hogle Zoo. I remember I went ahead and walked out of that little cave with the bats and scorpions and spiders because it smelled like serious poo, and I was still in the throes of morning sickness. So I took pictures of Jeff, Riley and Cole being Prairie Dogs, and waited in the 100 degree weather for them to come out.
It was good day for all of us, we went later in the day, not a lot of people were there, and the zoo had the misters going in full force. I also got to see the pregnant elephant that is one of their bragging rites, and felt a certain kinship.
Hmm. This week can and will be categorized in my "let's just forget it ever happened" life's experiences. Okay, AFTER I post about it, anyway. I guess I have to keep some sort of record; just to look out for my children, and when they wonder why their mother is overcome with anxiety and odd neurosis. I'm hoping that maybe I can just say, "There's surely some explanation in my blog records that I've kept and printed and bound for each of you, in anticipation of this exact circumstance". Or maybe I won't say exactly that, but you get the gist of what may happen one day. And also? Quit judging me.
So, this week and my humiliations. Well, where to start. How about Tuesday? Seeing as how Jeff had Monday off, I didn't really do much but take the kids to school, sleep, and watch some Reno 911s. There's a certain safety in that routine that I just can't complain about. However, Tuesday is when it went terribly wrong. I again got the kids to school, then had to rush to Orem, as I had my official first weekly appointment. But I was a little early, so I went to my favorite place-Target-to just kill about forty-five minutes. Mmmkay, you know when you're walking into a store, and someone is right behind you? You really only have two choices. Either stop to the side of the doors, and let them go in, because obviously they are in more of a hurry then you are. Or, you can quickly set the pace, and get in, and veer to the carts section. This is helpful because if they need a cart, they can go to one of the five rows of waiting ones, and be on their way. Or, if they're just there for a quick something, they'll simply bypass the carts, and you have again avoided ruining their quick in and out experience. I know this through years of practice. I do all of our grocery shopping--with the occasional exception of when Jeff will do it, and return with some ice cream and cookies that supposedly will last a family of four for the entire week. But that's beside the point.
So as I was approaching the doors into Target, I saw the "I'm in a real hurry" guy behind me, and I opted for the hurry-in-and-get-to-the-carts choice. However, my faith in the electronic opening doors was in vain. The doors at Target open inward, inviting all to come inside, out of the cold, and check out their amazing clearance selections in every department. I hurried towards those doors, and watched as they began to open for me. The man behind was still very much in a hurry, so slowing wasn't an option. However, just as I was going through the doors, they decided to stop....and me, being a lot larger than I realize sometimes, effectively got stuck...inside the doors. So I am struggling in between two doors that won't budge. My belly is about through, and my hips can't follow. I kind of panicked, and struggled at bit, only to notice that I really couldn't move at all, and it was effectively tightening the doors around me. "Hurry Guy" waited for me for like, two seconds, and rolled his eyes while huffing, effectively letting me know that I was in more than one way a huge inconvenience, and opted for the manual doors. Embarrassed, I quit struggling, forced myself not to start bawling, and took a deep breath. Apparently, the lack of motion allowed the doors to open from squeezing my unborn child, and I was able to get through. From there I went to the restroom to hide for about five minutes, assuring myself that whomever had the boring job of watching the security tapes of people coming in and out, got an eyeful, and at least they'll have something worthy to talk about at break time.
After assuring myself that the people that had witnessed the entire event had maybe made their way to the produce section or something, I went out, got myself a cart and did some unnecessary shopping--something that always makes me feel better.
At my appointment I didn't have to be checked. YAY! I hate that part, I really do. Not that it's fun for the doctors, by any means...but it's painful and humiliating, and leads you to think about the more painful and humiliating things to come...and it's just an overall downer. My doctor gave me some Prilosec to help me deal with heartburn that had me puking up stomach acid, and I was then on my way out. (Side note: Prilosec for heartburn is FABULOUS. My sisters had tried to convince me, and I don't get it often, except for when I'm pregnant. But if you need any relief in that area, go for it).
I made the short trek to the front desk to schedule my next exam, and then waited behind a young guy that was being scheduled for some heart tests because he has a murmur--not very big on the privacy practice at my doctor's office, apparently. Anyway, I notice that he looked at my stomach...something that happens regularly. But instead of looking away, he just kind of stared for longer than comfortable. I looked down after wondering what was there, to see the bottom of my bare belly hanging out of my shirt. Apparently after the doctor had measured me, I didn't do a good enough job of pulling my maternity pants up and my shirt down, effectively leaving like four inches of tummy hanging out for the world to see. Remember the Friends episodes where Rachel is pregnant, and she's so fashionable and cute that she can wear belly shirts and tank tops and such? I'm the opposite of that. My belly looks like a beer gut that you have to lift up to button the tops of your pants...and really, what it feels like, too. I just hope I didn't add any extra stress to that kid's heart problems. But that's what he gets for looking.
Lastly, because Tuesday had so many prime examples and this post will be too long if I admit them all, was me going to a meeting for the parents of Kindergartners at Cole's school. First off, I was kind of pissed that it was supposed to last for an entire hour and a half. I mean, it was a "mandatory" seminar for all parents to help our kids learn how to read. And Jeff or I read with Cole every night. He reads to us his little school books, or we read stories he wants to hear, so I thought we were on the right track. Also, I really didn't have a clue as to what we'd be expected to do in that long of time. But I found out that it would be as humiliating as possible. We all got little activity booklets that we need to do with our kindergartners daily for "obvious success" which was just fine. What wasn't fine, however, was that we were then expected to pair up with other parents there, (now the pairing up thing? Seriously one of the best parts of NOT being in school anymore. I hated it then, and not surprisingly, I still hate it now), and go through EVERY activity in the book. The first lesson for us was "praising" your kindergartner's accomplishments. So I had to listen to my partner read, and inject in a very excited voice, "good job!" or "That's Right!" or "Wow, you're such a great reader!" While she read me: John and his blue car sat on the side walk.
Sometimes I think I'm really funny...and when I'm in an uncomfortable situation, I try to loosen things up. So my partner and I started to giggle about how ridiculous we felt about the whole thing...when a little old lady came over and explained that she taught kids everyday that can't read, and that they aren't praised in a correct way, and that it's so sad to her that parents don't take this sort of thing seriously. Uuuuh. After that, I knew it was possible to feel even dumber during this activity.
From there, I decided to take the whole ordeal seriously, and try to be better, and went through most of the book without incident. Until we got to the rhyming part...where we were supposed to introduce "phonetical agents" into our reading regimes. My partner was supposed to say a line from a poem, and I was supposed to fill in the blank because according to phonetic balance, I could just "hear" what would be coming. So my partner goes: Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of ______ " And I said "water." She praised me appropriately, and then said: "Jack fell down and broke his______" to which I answered, "neck?" Just cause I'm a tard, okay? I thought it would be funny....and something that Cole would say. We kind of laughed, and that little old lady came over again and asked me if I'd ever read nursery rhymes with my child, and I replied yes, and she said that she hopes I took it more seriously than I did here, because phonetic balance is so important, and she hopes that I try to ensure as much understanding as I can to my child. Embarrassed yet again, I went off to my partner about how I'm glad that lady wasn't Cole's teacher, and what's she doing teaching? She's ancient and smells weird, and all the kids are probably afraid of her because she looks like a gremlin. My partner politely smiled and gave me a pity laugh, and then informed me that that old lady was HER son's teacher.
And that was my Tuesday. This is why I much prefer to be lazy and take naps and watch TV than go out in public, wear regular clothing, and interact with people. Hopefully after I'm pregnant, most of this will go away. I'll still stick my foot in my mouth, because I always do that. But the embarrassing uncontrollable body parts? I'm SO ready to be done with those.
Okay. I officially have three weeks left. This is fantabulous news...and yet, I'm kind of panicking--trying to convince myself that I will be okay, that I won't have to have an emergency c-section, (which, through reading I found out that they cut you vertically, instead of horizontally. And so, not only do you deal with the trauma of scary baby issues, but you are also scarred in a way that is irreversible), that my water won't break in an inconvenient place or time, and, most importantly, the baby will be healthy. However, not TOO healthy....because Cole was a big boy, and if Sydney continues at the going rate of both my previous babies, that would put her close to twelve pounds. And that's terrifying. Anyone that says differently can trade places with me during her birth. (Also, this post is really only for the voyeuristic...it's going to be more like a journal entry than anything else, and because this is my blog, I can do that).
I've got everything I need. I've been lucky enough to have people look out for me and make sure that we are ready for this kid that we weren't planning on. However, it's still scary. Baby number three, and it's still scary. Not wake-me-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-knowing-I-can-never-go-back scary like having Riley was, but until Sydney is in my arms with all ten fingers and toes and healthy, I'll just be worried and stressed. Anyway, I'm torn all day long, each day between wanting this baby OUT, to hoping she stays as long as possible, and is getting all the extras she needs to be ready. I know, boring for the average reader, but certainly makes for serious, and continuous, hormone fluctuations.
Also, the guilt is already getting to me. Until I actually became a mother, I had no idea what guilt was. And, hello, I'm Mormon. Everything is about guilt. I didn't give up my caffeine addiction throughout my pregnancy. I tried, but I couldn't. So I hope I didn't completely ruin my unborn child's nervous system. If I did, I'm going to feel REALLY bad, and Jeff's going to be really upset with me. I console myself a little by my addiction not being crack, however, if anything is wrong at all...I'll just KNOW it's because of all the Diet Mountain Dews.
Jeff and I have been watching seasons of Reno 911 each night, and this has actually helped me turn my attention to other things--in a "it could always be worse" way. (BTW, very funny show...but not for the easily offended). It kind of makes me think about how the Buffalo, WY police department would be...if it were more culturally diverse. I have a severe love for trashy people; they make me feel right at home. So while watching these episodes, I've felt more calm and serene...and occasionally grossed out. It's a lot like South Park to me, in that it's so wrong, that they get it right.
Anyway, I know I go off on how terrible pregnancy is, and how much I hate it. And all the negatives that go along with getting continually fatter and grosser and slower and more tired, but I'm finally at the stage where I can say, "It's really worth it". Yes, I still have severe heartburn and yes, I still wish I could sleep without peeing twelve times a night, and yes, I seriously dream about being able to breathe without feeling like I'm going to vomit at the same time. BUT, I wouldn't change having kids for anything. Family life suits me perfectly. I can't imagine life without my babies, and I can't wait for Sydney--even though I'm scared to death. I mean, she can't be any worse than what I already have to put up with, right? I'm holding to that thought.
Jeff and I aren't political people. I'm sure you've all assumed as much. I haven't really talked about it with either Riley or Cole, because I want their lives to be fun. Anyway, today I took them voting with me. I told them who I was going to vote for, they asked why and I answered. After I was all done, we were on our way home, and Cole said something I really didn't listen to, as I was in my own little world. I was knocked out of my reverie by him saying, "MOM! Did you hear what I said?" I told him no, and asked him to repeat it. He goes, "I saaaiiid, do you know who DOESN'T vote for Obama? I said, who? He goes: "Satan. Because he's EEEEVOOOL." I laughed and said, "you think so, huh?" As I watched him in my rearview mirror, he said with the most serious face he has, "I really do, mom. I really do".
First off, I need to thank my Mother-in-law, Maida for the outfits she surprised me with, and the Christmas stocking she made for Sydney. I was way excited to see this amongst my baby gifts...this is a tradition she's started for all her kids, kids that have married her kids, and their kids. Does it keep her busy? She's only got fifteen spouses for her fifteen children and then their kabillion kids and so on....so you do the math. However, she does it each and every time, and always makes them unique. Jeff and I and Riley and Cole each have one, and now it really feels that Sydney will be prepared for this family and this Christmas. (A side note: two days before Jeff and I got married, I got into a car accident and my lovely little escort was totaled. I had Christmas gifts in it, and a lot were so smooshed and trashed, that they were unsaveable...not to mention I was in shock, so I overlooked a lot. The stocking that Maida had made for me was among those items, and I didn't remember it until everything had been tossed. I was completely heartbroken and embarrassed that I was so careless with something that had taken so much time and thought. So a few months later, she made me a new one. It was just as beautiful and perfect. If it would have been me, I would have grudgingly threw something together for my son's "flighty girlfriend that didn't really deserve him, anyway" just to be nice. And let me say that she never said that or has never made me feel that way, however, when Cole gets married, I think that's the kind of mother-in-law I'll be. I'm just being honest. But as usual, she put thought and love in every stitch.
So my sister-in-law Amy offered to throw me a baby shower. I was excited about it, because I've seen how much detail and effort she puts into her parties. However, after thinking more on it, I really thought that maybe it would be too much work for everyone, and regretfully declined her offer. I knew she was throwing my other sister-in-law that's due at the same time, Kass, a shower as well. I decided that this is my THIRD kid, and this should be old hat for me. I told Amy that I knew she'd do a great job, but we should concentrate on Kass, and though I was super flattered, I'm sure that Amy was in no way needing more things to fit into her busy schedule (she's always doing stuff; crafts, callings, her jobs, and watching her own nieces and nephews, etc. Just the thought of her life wears me out)..and for once, I let go of one of my most favorite things in the world-
-the limelight. In a way I thought, "good for me". And yeah, this shows how petty and self-absorbed I really am when I congratulate myself on putting someone else before me, but lets try to overlook that small detail.Anyway, a little while later, I found out that my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law actually got together and decided that I needed a shower, regardless of the many selfless speeches I fed to everyone. (How do they know me so well)? I guess it was supposed to be a surprise, but I found out like nosy people often do, and I was told it would be a small dinner with a few people. Gifts and dinner? I was SO there.It turned out to be a LOT of people. Many of which I don't often see, and it was really humbling to me to see all these people come out to support me and Sydney. I'm not even sure if humbling is the right word, but for the sake of not embarrassing myself with really mushy stuff, it's the one I'll use. Let's just say I was emotionally moved, if you will. I was also flattered by all the undeserved attention. And it was totally great to get a free dinner at my favorite, Bajio Grill.
Anyway, looking back, I should have taken pictures. But seeing how there were tons of different conversations going on, and I have a really hard time taking pictures while people aren't posing, I didn't take any. Also, I was REALLY enjoying my ensalada fresca. It was beautiful. (Thanks Maida! and thanks to Kass for inviting everyone.) This little cover-up was from Shauna. Sooo adorable. She said that I could even use it if I had a boy...to which I replied, "THIS IS MY LAST ONE! I'M SERIOUS THIS TIME!" But in any case, Sydney's going to wear it like, everyday this winter. 
Anyway, I've been showing all my stuff throughout this post, but I also need to give credit to the ladies that gave it to Sydney. There are a lot of names, and references as to how who is related to me, so it may be confusing, but I'm trying to break it down into the easiest form. Also, I just need to show you all my stuff. Cause it's awesome. I used my rocking chair in Sydney's room as a felt board to display all the gifties. Genius? I like to think so. Even though I didn't get this at the shower, this is my crib. I have to show it because it's beautiful. My Mommy, Larraine, bought it for Sydney, and this is where tons of Sydney life will be going down. (Hopefully). 
The crib that supported Riley's last year of cribdom and Cole's entire babyhood, was completely trashed. So my mom totally went above and beyond and bought me a brand new one, complete with sliding underdrawer and mattress. (The even more fabulous part? It converts into a toddler bed and a headboard for a twin size after Sydney gets big. So basically, she's set for life, as far as I'm concerned). I thought it only right to display my sister-in-law Nancy's gift, as it will be used as the crib's blanket and she included the little sleeper, as well. Nancy hand crocheted the edges, and if you've ever tried doing that, which I have, it takes FOREVER. And to make it look as nice as Sydney's little blanket does, that takes even longer. My sister -in -law Alison, sent me the bib that pretty much sums up Jeff and the little onsie with matching barrettes, from her home in California--she's always thoughtful. Amy's gifts are posted up by were I previously mentioned her. She made the cover for when I'm nursing, and I'm wa
y grateful. I know that breastfeeding is natural, but there's something that's still disturbing to me about letting my boobs out in public. Or seeing someone else's. I realize that some people don't think this way, but I'm of the mind that privates are privates. There's a lot of natural stuff that occurs that you just don't share visually with everyone else. And then she also decorated the little onesies and made matching hair barrettes for each one. (Like I said before, she's crafty). The "I still live with my parents" onesie and little shoes were from Kass, the mom-to-be. I got her boring diapers. And then I forgot to bring them to her babyshower. Does this mean she'll probably be a better mother than I am, despite me already having two more kiddies than she? Most definitely. The little white knit dress, and though you can't see it, a brown beanie, w
as from my sister-in-law Kim and her daughters. Wendy supplied me with a gift card and because it would be in poor taste to tell you the amount, I wont....but let me just say this: WHOOO-HOOO! I'm going to be shopping up a storm. Kelli gave Sydney two little summer outfits. I'm excited for summer this time around, hopefully I can find some cute stuff to wear, too...instead of my last four months of sweatshorts. Also, I hope to be doing a lot more swimming this summer, too. This gives me great incentive to get back down to pre-Sydney weight. Not that that is anything to brag about, however, at this point....what I wouldn't give. The hats and jumpers and not shown, baby lotion and baby bath were from Sarah. She's my niece and Kim's daughter-in-law. Being a memeber of the Anderson family I have nieces and nephews that are actually older than I am. Sarah isn't one of them, FYI, but it's taken some getting used to.
Yet another one of those large family dynamics that are sometimes difficult for me to comprehend. Another niece, Ashley, gave Sydney a little robe and a "Horton hears a who" onesie, and two more neices, Keri Ann, and Kelli gave us some cute shoes and sleepers.
So as you can see, in no way was this baby shower, low-key. I got so much great stuff that it makes me wish I could just throw a party for myself, and let everyone bring me gifts, instead of the baby. However, I did that last year on my birthday, so I guess I can't really ask for more. Thanks to all of you that came, and that visited, it was really great to see you. I'm so lucky to be a part of the Anderson family, regardless of how much I complain. And I complain about the quirks of the Andersons quite regularly....which really helps me forget about all my very consciously hidden quirks and the fact that I'm nutso. Anyway, I really loved all the attention, the support, the conversation, and food. Everything's adorable, and I'm so excited for Sydney to be able to enjoy it all!
