Today I received the long-awaited green light to return to a paler shade of normal; which translates to light cleaning, cooking, leaving the house, driving and best of all, shopping! Even grocery shopping holds greater appeal for me now; although, I'm sure the thrill of a weekly trip to the store for eggs and milk and popsicles will quickly grow dull.
The baby looks fantastic. Yay! HIS heartbeat is awesomely strong, although if you ask Clarke about it, he'll tell you that HER heartbeat is awesomely strong. No, we don't know if this baby is pink or blue yet and have a few more weeks to wait and wonder.
As a reward to myself for having braved and been *almost* completely obedient to the rules of bedrest, I splurged on an Old Navy maternity tee and some new mascara. Do I know how to reward myself or what? I probably deserve some ice cream too. And maybe a trip to Hawaii. And post-partum liposuction.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
5:21 a.m.
It's 5:20 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. The neighborhood is queit. All is dark and cool and peaceful in the See home; everyone is asleep.
It's 5:21 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. The 55-year old neighbor cranks the ignition of his LOUD motorcycle and revs the engine for a full 5 minutes. The sound reverberates throughout the neighborhood. Our floors tremble.
It's 5:22 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. Brock fitfully wanders through the house until he finds his way to mommy's bedside and declares that it is too noise and he cannot sleep.
It's 5:22 a.m. on a Tuesday morning and mommy is leading a sleepy Brock back to cool of his bedroom, to the hum of his white noise machine. She tucks him back into bed and puts her hands over his ears so that he can fall back to sleep.
It's 5:26 a.m. on a Tuesday morning and the neighbor finally points his motorcycle in the direction of work and finally guides his machine out of the neighborhood.
It's 5:27 a.m on a Tuesday morning and the nieghborhood is once again quiet. Brock has turned to his side and falls quickly back to sleep.
It's 5:28 a.m. on a Tuesday morning and mommy is wide awake and unable to fall asleep.
And to think, we get to do this routine FIVE days a week, thanks to a very rude neighbor and his blasted motorcycle! *GROAN*
It's 5:21 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. The 55-year old neighbor cranks the ignition of his LOUD motorcycle and revs the engine for a full 5 minutes. The sound reverberates throughout the neighborhood. Our floors tremble.
It's 5:22 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. Brock fitfully wanders through the house until he finds his way to mommy's bedside and declares that it is too noise and he cannot sleep.
It's 5:22 a.m. on a Tuesday morning and mommy is leading a sleepy Brock back to cool of his bedroom, to the hum of his white noise machine. She tucks him back into bed and puts her hands over his ears so that he can fall back to sleep.
It's 5:26 a.m. on a Tuesday morning and the neighbor finally points his motorcycle in the direction of work and finally guides his machine out of the neighborhood.
It's 5:27 a.m on a Tuesday morning and the nieghborhood is once again quiet. Brock has turned to his side and falls quickly back to sleep.
It's 5:28 a.m. on a Tuesday morning and mommy is wide awake and unable to fall asleep.
And to think, we get to do this routine FIVE days a week, thanks to a very rude neighbor and his blasted motorcycle! *GROAN*
Sunday, June 19, 2011
PSA
I am releasing this PSA as a courtesy to all our readers to inform you that the title of
'World's Best Dad'
has, for the 6th consecutive year, been awarded to Clarke See.
Mr. See embodies all the qualities of an amazing father. He is handsome, athletic, playful, teasing, silly, resourceful, handy, talented, and 100% super heroish in the eyes of his 5-year old son. Over the past month, Mr. See has excelled as a father in the following fields: laundry, cooking, cleaning, chauffeuring and bedtime stories.
This year's 'World's Best Dad' award includes lots of hugs and kisses and two giant water guns for use on hot days in the backyard.
Without further ado, I introduce you to this year's
'World's Best Dad'
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Surgery=Success
I couldn't have gotten "stitched up" at a better time as when I was wheeled into the operating room and examined, it was discovered that my I was already dilating! My body was preparing for labor and had we not elected to get the cerclage, we would be weeks, maybe a month or two away from burying another premature baby. This is why pregnancy makes me nervous.
The cerclage procedure took approximately 11 minutes from start to finish, and was only a teeny tiny fraction of our 11 hour hospital stay. After meeting with the anesthesiologist, I was given my choice of sedation methods and chose a spinal block over general anesthesia because it is allegedly better for the baby. The doctor interpreted this as "Give the patient enough juice to tranq an elephant" because after the horrifying and excruciating painful needle entered my spine, I couldn't feel a thing below my rib cage for the next 8 1/2 hours! The anesthesiologist also added enough happy juice to my i.v. to keep me smiling through the whole procedure. Before they wheeled me from favorite operating table to recovery, the nurses wrapped me in dozens of warm blankets; my "cocoon" as they affectionately called it, and wheeled me into a quite little place called recovery.
After two hours of awkwardly staring at the ceiling in recovery, the nurses finally gave up on my legs regaining feeling and sent me to my room to "denumb." Clarke met me in my room with a relieved smile and a "hey baby." We waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited while Clarke's iTouch and my Nook exhausted their battery power in an attempt to keep us entertained. Finally we had to turn to TV to occupy our time and chose "Extreme Couponing" on TLC. For three hours. And all I can say about that show is that those women are FREAKS! Who needs 400 cans of dog food and 300 bottles of Powerarde anyway?
Finally, I could wiggle my toes and we were able to go home, armed with pain pills and a little more hope than when we had arrived at the hospital that morning.
Recovery consists of: bed rest for another week, meds that make me sleepy, pain in my unmentionables and the hope that the stitch will make all the difference so we can bring home a little brother or sister for Brock this Christmas.
A huge thank you for all your thoughts and prayers! They worked.
The cerclage procedure took approximately 11 minutes from start to finish, and was only a teeny tiny fraction of our 11 hour hospital stay. After meeting with the anesthesiologist, I was given my choice of sedation methods and chose a spinal block over general anesthesia because it is allegedly better for the baby. The doctor interpreted this as "Give the patient enough juice to tranq an elephant" because after the horrifying and excruciating painful needle entered my spine, I couldn't feel a thing below my rib cage for the next 8 1/2 hours! The anesthesiologist also added enough happy juice to my i.v. to keep me smiling through the whole procedure. Before they wheeled me from favorite operating table to recovery, the nurses wrapped me in dozens of warm blankets; my "cocoon" as they affectionately called it, and wheeled me into a quite little place called recovery.
After two hours of awkwardly staring at the ceiling in recovery, the nurses finally gave up on my legs regaining feeling and sent me to my room to "denumb." Clarke met me in my room with a relieved smile and a "hey baby." We waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited while Clarke's iTouch and my Nook exhausted their battery power in an attempt to keep us entertained. Finally we had to turn to TV to occupy our time and chose "Extreme Couponing" on TLC. For three hours. And all I can say about that show is that those women are FREAKS! Who needs 400 cans of dog food and 300 bottles of Powerarde anyway?
Finally, I could wiggle my toes and we were able to go home, armed with pain pills and a little more hope than when we had arrived at the hospital that morning.
Recovery consists of: bed rest for another week, meds that make me sleepy, pain in my unmentionables and the hope that the stitch will make all the difference so we can bring home a little brother or sister for Brock this Christmas.
A huge thank you for all your thoughts and prayers! They worked.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
An Update....with pictures!
Television, books, napping and altogether circumstantial laziness are exhaustingly time consuming!
Which leaves little to no time (or let's face it desire) to play online or to update our blog. Especially considering that one must peruse and blog while laying down and precariously balancing the laptop on her knees and navigating with the mouse tucked snugly between her hand and the couch cushions. See what I mean?
But, inquiring minds want to know what's the news with the Sees. So, here's another rare, but brilliant, blog post from the (dis)comfort of our overstuffed living room couch...
Brock....
Conspiring to launder his collection of camo clothing takes stealth and cunning; a daring feat which usually occurs while our little soldier is saving the world from the safety of a good night's sleep. Brock wears camo every single day of the week, except to church on Sunday (a small concession he grants mom and dad) and it is a very gloomy day for our little towhead if his dresser drawers aren't stocked with clean camo pants, camo shorts, camo underpants, with camo shirts hanging in the closet. On those rare occasions when the camo gear is trapped in the washer, Brock compromises by wearing all black, not in mourning, but because if he can't be a soldier, then the next best thing is a ninja. Duh.
Brock and daddy are one of the same these days. Where you find one, you generally find the other. This past week, they camped in the backyard. In eager anticipation of the event, Brock slept in his sleeping bag every night last week until he and daddy had a "real" campout in the tent in the backyard. Today, they went on a bike ride and then to see Kung Fu Panda 2. Brock had trouble controlling his bike as they rode downhill and Brock, unfortunately, collided with a tree. Thankfully, he was wearing his helmet, but that doesn't mean that he wasn't thoroughly beat up, complete with bloody nose and bruised, bleeding and goose-egged forehead. Our little soldier is tough, though, and hardly let the injury slow him down!
You can't see the bruises very well in this picture, but I have to say that they're rather impressive to see in person...
Clarke....
My workhorse. The poor guy is doing everything around here, grudgingly at times because he's tired or because appreciates how badly it sucks to have to do the dishes everyday--a sentiment I freely share with him. Nevertheless, he keeps propelling himself from one task to the next and refuses my offer of help (not that I could anyway). If he catches me walking around the house, he is strict to point to the couch and say "GO LAY DOWN!" This weekend, he has been installing our new baseboards. A task that, in theory, sounds simple enough, but has turned into quite the project, including reconstructing some the walls and has Clarke muttering something about why we even started this project in the first place. The baseboards, however, look awesome. Of course.
Today, Clarke had a "first" when he gave Brock a haircut, a chore that is exclusively mom's domain. Brock took one look at his very short buzz cut and declared, very sadly, that he didn't like it. Until I told him that it makes him look like a real soldier, then he was all smiles.
Clarke is also headed to St. Louis, or thereabouts, this fall to compete in the National Natural Gas Rodeo after his team took first place in the local IGC Gas Rodeo. He's also plenty busy with scouts. And cooking. And cleaning. And gardening. And parenting. And even scrubbing toilets. What a guy!
Me....
I'm pleased to announce that we are still pregnant, which, given our history, is a remarkable accomplishment. We've only made it this far into pregnancy two times before now, with Brock and Amelia, so our expectations are starting to rise-just a little. A couple weeks ago I purchased a fetal doppler so that in my long hours of pondering, okay, freaking out over whether or not the baby was still living, I could find some reassurance. All I can say is that it is the BEST PURCHASE of this entire pregnancy. Right up there with cherry tomatoes, and those who know my insatiable craving for tomatoes right now can fully appreciate the comparison. Every day, I prod around my belly until I find that rapid thump, thump, thump of Bubsicle's racing heartbeat and then I can relax a little. Sweetest sound ever! At our ultrasound last week, the Bubs was wiggling all over the place and his (or her as Clarke says) heartbeat was (and is) so amazingly strong!
Countdown to surgery: 4 days. I could put on my courageous Wonder Woman face and tell you that surgery will be a real cinch, but I'd be lying because I'm nervous. The benfits of the cerclage far outweigh the risks. The reality is that without the cerclage, the odds of losing this baby in the 2nd trimester are HUGE, probably guaranteed. Surgery will not be painless and will require a few additional days of bed rest, and possibly some vicodin. But, if everything goes well, then this pregnancy has a fighting chance of survival, which is our greatest hope. My doctor has also given me the okay to ditch bed rest following the surgery and return to my previous status of limited activity. I almost hugged my doctor when she said that I could once again go grocery shopping. I mean, really, grocery shopping generally sucks until you're STUCK at home, IN BED, all day every day for weeks. Then the appeal of grocery shopping is akin to winning the lottery!
So, that's what's going on at casa See! Will update more later!
Which leaves little to no time (or let's face it desire) to play online or to update our blog. Especially considering that one must peruse and blog while laying down and precariously balancing the laptop on her knees and navigating with the mouse tucked snugly between her hand and the couch cushions. See what I mean?
But, inquiring minds want to know what's the news with the Sees. So, here's another rare, but brilliant, blog post from the (dis)comfort of our overstuffed living room couch...
Brock....
Conspiring to launder his collection of camo clothing takes stealth and cunning; a daring feat which usually occurs while our little soldier is saving the world from the safety of a good night's sleep. Brock wears camo every single day of the week, except to church on Sunday (a small concession he grants mom and dad) and it is a very gloomy day for our little towhead if his dresser drawers aren't stocked with clean camo pants, camo shorts, camo underpants, with camo shirts hanging in the closet. On those rare occasions when the camo gear is trapped in the washer, Brock compromises by wearing all black, not in mourning, but because if he can't be a soldier, then the next best thing is a ninja. Duh.
Brock and daddy are one of the same these days. Where you find one, you generally find the other. This past week, they camped in the backyard. In eager anticipation of the event, Brock slept in his sleeping bag every night last week until he and daddy had a "real" campout in the tent in the backyard. Today, they went on a bike ride and then to see Kung Fu Panda 2. Brock had trouble controlling his bike as they rode downhill and Brock, unfortunately, collided with a tree. Thankfully, he was wearing his helmet, but that doesn't mean that he wasn't thoroughly beat up, complete with bloody nose and bruised, bleeding and goose-egged forehead. Our little soldier is tough, though, and hardly let the injury slow him down!
You can't see the bruises very well in this picture, but I have to say that they're rather impressive to see in person...
Clarke....
My workhorse. The poor guy is doing everything around here, grudgingly at times because he's tired or because appreciates how badly it sucks to have to do the dishes everyday--a sentiment I freely share with him. Nevertheless, he keeps propelling himself from one task to the next and refuses my offer of help (not that I could anyway). If he catches me walking around the house, he is strict to point to the couch and say "GO LAY DOWN!" This weekend, he has been installing our new baseboards. A task that, in theory, sounds simple enough, but has turned into quite the project, including reconstructing some the walls and has Clarke muttering something about why we even started this project in the first place. The baseboards, however, look awesome. Of course.
Today, Clarke had a "first" when he gave Brock a haircut, a chore that is exclusively mom's domain. Brock took one look at his very short buzz cut and declared, very sadly, that he didn't like it. Until I told him that it makes him look like a real soldier, then he was all smiles.
Clarke is also headed to St. Louis, or thereabouts, this fall to compete in the National Natural Gas Rodeo after his team took first place in the local IGC Gas Rodeo. He's also plenty busy with scouts. And cooking. And cleaning. And gardening. And parenting. And even scrubbing toilets. What a guy!
Me....
I'm pleased to announce that we are still pregnant, which, given our history, is a remarkable accomplishment. We've only made it this far into pregnancy two times before now, with Brock and Amelia, so our expectations are starting to rise-just a little. A couple weeks ago I purchased a fetal doppler so that in my long hours of pondering, okay, freaking out over whether or not the baby was still living, I could find some reassurance. All I can say is that it is the BEST PURCHASE of this entire pregnancy. Right up there with cherry tomatoes, and those who know my insatiable craving for tomatoes right now can fully appreciate the comparison. Every day, I prod around my belly until I find that rapid thump, thump, thump of Bubsicle's racing heartbeat and then I can relax a little. Sweetest sound ever! At our ultrasound last week, the Bubs was wiggling all over the place and his (or her as Clarke says) heartbeat was (and is) so amazingly strong!
Countdown to surgery: 4 days. I could put on my courageous Wonder Woman face and tell you that surgery will be a real cinch, but I'd be lying because I'm nervous. The benfits of the cerclage far outweigh the risks. The reality is that without the cerclage, the odds of losing this baby in the 2nd trimester are HUGE, probably guaranteed. Surgery will not be painless and will require a few additional days of bed rest, and possibly some vicodin. But, if everything goes well, then this pregnancy has a fighting chance of survival, which is our greatest hope. My doctor has also given me the okay to ditch bed rest following the surgery and return to my previous status of limited activity. I almost hugged my doctor when she said that I could once again go grocery shopping. I mean, really, grocery shopping generally sucks until you're STUCK at home, IN BED, all day every day for weeks. Then the appeal of grocery shopping is akin to winning the lottery!
So, that's what's going on at casa See! Will update more later!
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