Healed and ONE!

Two weeks ago I was pronounced healed and able to resume all regular activities. I started back on the treadmill last Monday and thought I felt pretty good. I was somewhat sore, but not as bad as I expected. So this Monday, I decided to try to do my "old" routine including a mile on incline. OUCH. I only make 1/2 mile and thought I might die. So, taking 6 weeks out of your work out routine, along with having surgery, does definitely set you behind. But, I am happy to say that at least everything feels normal. I did sit ups and everything. So, that's that.

I cannot believe I forgot to write about C. turning ONE! Geesh. I am so terrible at blogging.

So, here's a couple pics of the cake destruction:

Good grief, I'd post more, but it's so obnoxious that they show up at the beginning of the post and are so hard to move.

So, my baby's one. Well, now, he's 14 months old. He's been walking. He doesn't say much. Just uh-oh, mama and a word for all the animals that is not dog or cat. But it is a consistent word that he always uses when one of them comes around. He is a force of destruction. His favorite activity is to make big messes. Box of puzzle peices? Dump them out and fling them around as far as possible. Cabinet of cans? Take them all out and roll them all over the place. Bowl of dog water? Dump it all over the floor and self. (That one makes me insane.) Food on my high chair tray that I don't want to eat? Fling all over the dining room. (This is where the dogs do come in handy.) I think you get the point. I've gotten so tired of just cleaning up after him multiple times/day that I just leave it. When M.'s out of town for a couple days, I'm just letting it be all over the place. The state of my house is a whole post in itself... But C. is very adorable. He still really likes to be held. He holds those chubby arms up with that little dimple smile and you really can't resist. He gives these monkey hugs where he sqeezes so hard around your neck. He LOVES to be outside. I don't know what I'm going to do with him all winter. He tries to escape whenever possible and throws these humerous fits (humerous is that he doesn't throw himself to the ground, but cautiously falls to his butt, shoulder, head so he doesn't get hurt on the hard wood.) when he's thwarted. He also loves to steal things from his sister and run cackling away. He's still a giant. Over 100% on all the charts. He's still breastfeeding 3-4 times/day. I think he'll probaby wean later than N. She was 16 months and I don't see him weaning in another 2 months. He also still does NOT sleep through the night. At this point, I'm kind of over it. I just go get him between 12 and 2 am and he sleeps with us. I usually end up feeding him around 5:30 or 6 am. I'm not freaking out about it. It just is and it will eventually end.

So, there's C's one year update. I can't believe next I'll be writing about N.'s 4th! Birthday! Holy cats.

Razor's Edge

So, you know how much I hate doctors and needles and hospitals and the like. I really feel like the universe is mocking me. I mean, I guess I never really spent time thinking about it, but the idea that I would ever need to have surgery had just never crossed my mind. I made it through childhood with nary a broken bone, ER visit, etc. The most tramatic thing that happened to me prior to having babies, was getting my wisdom teeth taken out at the age of 16. They did it right in the dentist office.

I won't go into detail regarding my births, though they're here somewhere in the old posts of this blog, but keywords would be natural, midwives, midwife center and NO NEEDLES.

Again, universe laughing at me...

The quick backstory - I had 2 prior episodes of abdominal pain that I interpretted to be constipation. I even actually went to a DOCTOR the first time and he told me to eat more fiber and drink more water. As such, I was less inclined to go to the Dr. again the second time. The third time it occured (3 weeks ago), the pain was just so much more intense and my husband put his foot down and took me to the ER (first #1), where I was given an IV (first #2). One of the doctors first couple thoughts where, "Do you have a history of ovarian cysts." The answer to this is yes, I've had a few and I had a rather large one during my last pregnancy, but everyone said it would resolve after the pregnancy. He thought not and off to ultrasound I went where I had a belly ultrasound (Hey, this is familiar) and an internal ultrasound (first #3... wha????). They indeed determined that I had a cyst the size of a baseball and released me with instructions to contact my obgyn the next day and figure out what to do about it.

Contact my who? I don't have an obgyn anymore. I have midwives... Who when contacted, said... yeah, we don't do that. You'll have to call the surgeon. Which I did, and amazingly was able to get an appt. the next day with his partner. At the appt., I was given two options: 1) Have surgery now, 2) Monitor it, but likely have surgery later. At this point, the backstory to the backstory is that M. had just accepted a new job that would require him to be in NJ 3 days a week that started the week after the immediate surgery would be scheduled. So, I figured I might as well get it over with, and there I was with all sorts of consent forms and papers and papers telling me of all the horrible things that could, might, probably won't but we have to tell you anyway. I walked out of there with my head spinning. Is this really happening?? To me?? The doctor-hater??

I calmed myself with the knowledge that this was a laproscopic proceedure, outpatient, recovery in 2-3 days. Easy, breezy. The surgeon is well-respected in one of the best hospitals in Pittsburgh, which happens to have some really good hospitals. He does many of these every Tuesday.

Monday before surgery - no food. Just clear liquids. And a laxative. Surprisingly, I didn't mind the lack of food. I expected to be starving. I guess those of you that fast know about this, but I've never fasted in my entire life. Had to get bloodwork done in the morning. Best vampire nurse I've ever had in my life. I'm notorious for having tiny veins and passing out. Hence, the previous NO NEEDLE policy.

Tuesday - Mom picks me up at 6 am. Hospital at 6:30 am. Pre-op at 7am. Peeing in a cup, weight, blood pressure. So far so good. Get in room... Urine was questionable for pregnancy. WHAT?? Have to do a blood draw to be sure. This vampire nurse... not so good. Couldn't get blood from vein in arm. Had to use hand. Ouch. This is why I hate this. NOT PREGNANT. It was about this time when I started to lose it. You are poking me with awful needles and telling me I might be pregnant. I had so much going through my head. Maybe it was an ectopic pregnancy which was why I was in so much pain? Pregnant at all? I am totally not prepared to be pg again. I am done having kids. But my mom was there and she prayed for me, and I think there were a few more of YOU out there praying as well, as I calmed down and got wheeled upstairs for surgery.
Can I tell you how incredibly helpless you feel when you have someone driving you around on a gurney in a hospital? It is a really horrible feeling. I'll get into this whole dependency thing later.
Anyway, up on the surgical floor I meet the Anesthesiologist. I go through my now well-rehearsed speech about tiny veins. He tells me I'm in very good hands, but then proceeds to smack and flick my hand to find any veins, then tells the other nurse he has to use the smallest needle possible, so it may take the drugs a while longer than normal to take effect. I'm all, please do not start working on me until I'm really out.
Then it's into the surgical room. It's a good thing the drugs were already pumping, because when they got me in there and I saw all the people and machines and instruments and lights and, well, everything you see on TV, I was freaking out. Scootch over to the operating table and then it was lights out.
I wake up 3 hours later in recovery. Recovery is really weird. Big room with all sorts of other recovering people. Still half drugged and wondering what is going on. Mr. Nurse comes to drop the bomb. Doc couldn't get you done laproscopically. You've been cut open and you're being admitted. In my still loopy drugged up haze, I took this news okay. But then I was there FOREVER. 3 more hours. The heavy meds worse off and I was SOOOO thirsty and I wasn't allowed to drink anything. He finally had mercy and gave me a little swab of water. Finally, they found me a room.
Wow, this is getting really long. Anyway, finally get situated in my room, but they can't find my mom. She was on the other floor waiting for them to tell her where I was. I wait for the nurses to leave and then call her myself. Geesh. She gets to me and I finally get the whole story as to why I had "REAL" surgery. This cyst was really mean. It wrapped itself around my fallopian tube 4 times and then buried itself behind my uterus. Doc had to take out the entire fallopian tube and the mass. He couldn't do it laproscopically because there was too much chance of internal bleeding and he couldn't get behind the uterus that way. Silver lining - he was able to save my ovary. When I met with the Doc the next day, he further explained that my tube was completely mangled and leaving it there would have put me at serious risk for ectopic pregnancy. Since I still have another set of ovary/fallopian tube, my fertility has not been seriously compromised. I was not that concerned about this, re: no more kids, but I was a bit concerned about hormones. Since I have both ovaries, I'm okay hormone wise. Phew.
So, I'll start to sum up. In hospital for 3 days. Released with instructions of no stairs or lifting for 2 weeks. Take it easy for 2 more weeks after that, and full recovery in 6 weeks. And I thought I'd be good to go in 3 days... universe laughing...

Vegas - A bust

To say that I'm not a huge fan of Vegas would be somewhat of an understatement. The unfortunate part is that if we'd rented a vehicle of some sort, it could have been a nice trip. But being as we were marooned in the Strip, there's only so many upscale shops, casinos and hotels to see before you get a little bored. Neither of us being gamblers, we "gambled" for about a total of 30 minutes... playing slots. We won $100 too! So we cashed out and were done with it. Unfortunately, that was no nearly enough to pay for dinner that night. Being from Pittsburgh, voted the most liveable city in the country, with good prices on everything from houses to a pint, I was in complete sticker shock. $8 for a beer, $12 for a glass of wine, $30-40 for a "real" meal. Of course, you can find cheaper food, in strip mall type fast food places, but I really don't consider that going "out."
The best part of the whole trip for me was sitting out by the pool in 90+ degree weather and actually getting hot enough to get in the pool. That did not happen one single time in Pittsburgh this year.
So, I'll sum it up like this... if you get a chance to go to Vegas and you're not a big gambler, plan on taking some trips out of the strip to see some of the mountains or the Hoover Dam. That probably would have saved the trip for me. Otherwise, I'm marking down as a "been there, done that, not goin' back."

Vegas, baby!

Tomorrow, I'm headed to Las Vegas. M. had a work conference over the weekend, and I'll be joining him in the City of Sin. Vegas has never been a destination that I've wanted to go to, but the opportunity was there and we hadn't really done much vacation-wise this year, so we figured, why not? We don't gamble and we don't really do night-clubby type things, but everyone says it's just something to see. So, we'll see if I'm cut out for Vegas. I had to do a little shopping over the weekend. Not that I want to necessarily "look the part," but I didn't think my "mommy" clothes would really cut it. I'll let you know how it is. I'm excited and curious, though a little apprehensive.

11 months

My computer situation is all screwed up today, so I can't post a picture. But yesterday marked C.'s 11th month. I am so torn about how I feel about my little boy growing up. It's so fun to watch him as he cruises around, trying so hard to walk, holding his chubby hands up because he wants to be held ALL THE TIME. His cute little cuddles, his horrible sleep habits, his avid nursing. In short, he is a momma's boy through and through. So, he's still very much a baby, but in 30 days, he will suddenly become a toddler! What? It's been a year since I pushed 9 lbs 12 ounces into this world in 20 minutes? Seems impossible. And I'm sad, in a lot of ways. Because some of these milestones will be the last time I watch one of my own children learn to ...
Pending any accidents or acts of God, we are not planning on having any more children. Most of the time, I am okay with this. While I loved being pregnant, and call me crazy, even giving birth, I think that it's just right for our family just to have two children. Sometimes I'm bummed that N. will not have a sister and will not have a relationship like I do with a sister, but I know lots of women who only had brothers and they seem okay. But then every once in a while I look at C. and how giant he is (around 30 lbs) and realize I will never hold my own little baby curled to my chest again. I'll never see my own child learn to crawl. I'll never get to see that funny face when you feed them something new. So, I'm delighting in all of his new skills, but there is a hint of sadness that did not accompany them when N. was learning. Sigh, such is life. Now, I must get to work on planning a birthday party. Not my forte!

Three

Wow, over a month since my last entry. I am so awful at this. Thanks to those of you who still check back periodically!

I want to discuss three year olds. N. is almost 3 1/2. I am really struggling with this age. I don't know how much of it is related to the fact that I'm also trying to take care of a baby, but I find her so frustrating.

This is what's aggravating:

1) the whining... dear lord the whining

2) extreme opinions on what she's going to wear, eat, do, etc. that result in freak outs if she's told no.

3) super independence - wanting to do everything by herself, even when she's not capabale, and... freak outs when some one helps her

4) alternately, wanting to pretend to be the "baby" - she gets a pacifier and pretends to cry and wants to be held. I was okay with this for a while, assuming that obviously this is a reaction to not being the baby anymore, but it is so annoying after 2 minutes.

5) constantly interferring with C. If C's standing, she'll knock him over. If he's crawling, she'll try to pick him up, if he's lying down she tries to flip him over. I believe I have uttered the words, "JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE" at various decibal levels several thousand times.

6) Not listening. I tell her to do something and she ambles along, often getting distracted by something else and 5 minutes later she still hasn't - gotten her shoes on, brushed her teeth, went to the bathroom, etc.

7) Throwing back one liners at me that I say to her all the time: Don't talk to me like that, Don't argue with me, That's rude!

Sigh. I feel badly because I'm not sure if I'm approaching all this correctly. Clearly, we have to set some boundries and make is known what kind of behavior is acceptable and what is not. At the same time, I feel like I am CONSTANTLY correcting her, and truth be told, yelling. Who knew I'd be a yeller?

Of course all of this is tempered by the adorable stories. The other day she was out on the porch and I told her she can't go outside unless she asks me first. Her response was, "But I was looking for Jesus." And all the "I love you, Mommy"'s. And all the hugs and kisses.

It's so worth it, and I just hope I'm doing it right... If you've had a 3 year old and have some tips, I'd love to hear them!

Anniversary Trip - Day 4 - The end

So, it seems we did not document the last day with any photographs, so it will just be narrative.

We got up some time around 8 and went looking for breakfast. We had intended to go back to the Continental because we'd eaten a great breakfast there a couple years ago, but apparently they don't open 'til 10 or so. So we just ended up going to Manhatten bagel. Prior to leaving the hotel, I had been having a bit of an allergy attack. While walking around looking for breakfast, I started to realize that part of my face was going numb. My upper lip, right top part of my mouth and teeth and it kept growing into my nose, eye and up into my head. It was quite freaky. I figured it had to be related to blowing my nose and that maybe I just hit a nerve or something. Those of you that know me well know that I blow my nose quite vigorously! Well, anyway, breakfast was good, if not exactly what we planned and despite the numbness, I was still able to chew.
We went back to the hotel, packed up and started riding, but I was in more and more increasing pain/worry about my head. I had to get M. to pull over at a rest stop and I got some medicine. It was really weird and bad. I also took my earrings out and left my sunglasses off because I wasn't sure what exactly was causing the problem. About an hour later, we reached our first stop - Stoudt's brewery near Lancaster and the pain had started to ebb and the numbness was starting to go away. Phew! For one, I thought there might be something seriously wrong with me, and for two, at the least, it was going to make for a very miserable ride home. (BTW, this has happened to me again since, and I have been trying very hard to only blow my nose gently. Has any one else every experienced or heard of this??)
So anyway, we were at Stoudt's, but they weren't quite open yet, so we took a walk around their antique section. Antiques are a weird thing for me. I really don't get why people place so much value on old stuff. Furniture I get because all the new stuff is such garbage, but why do people pay bunches of money for... old bottles? old figurines, nick-knacks, and various other objects that just get dusty. I digress...
We had a yummy appetizer and beers at Stoudts and then we were off to LBC - Lancaster Brewing Company. We got wings and another beer there. Then I did what I never thought I would do, but it was getting hot... I took my jacket off. I always wear my bike jacket. It has these skid pads and stuff that are supposed to protect you if you fall off... I just feel better with it on. Those people you see riding bikes in tank tops and shorts... not me. But I did this time, and it was nice.
Our last stop was in Gettysburg to ABC - Appalachian Brewing Company. This place was very pretty and we had a great lunch. But we stayed a little too long, which forced us to stay on the bike pretty much for the next 3 hours straight.
We arrived home around 9 pm and I was so excited to see the kiddos. C. started nursing right away, which was very relieving. One of my biggest fears was that he'd forget how to nurse while we were away.
So that is that. It was mostly nice. I won't go on such a big trip on that bike again, but it was nice to have done it. I'd like to go back to all the places we went and spend more time. I enjoyed spending a chunk of time just with hubby. Who knows when we'll get the chance to do it again!