Sucks to Be Right

This post is part of a blog series detailing the experience with an unexpected pregnancy and the miscarriage that followed.

Wrong Side of the Statistic

The Third
Sucks to be Right

Being Negative

Living in the Chaos

Just like the days leading up to the pregnancy test, the days leading up to my 10 week ultrasound, I was hoping that I would be proven crazy.

I had hoped that I was wrong about my instincts, I had to be crazy because somewhere deep down inside of me, I hadn’t fully accepted this pregnancy.  Where else would these thoughts and this anxiety come from? Surely it was just disbelief speaking but it wasn’t true, couldn’t be true, we were IN LOVE with this baby, we were planning for this baby.

I was experiencing sensitive teeth and gums, bloody noses, the silly wispy hair, the crazy pregnancy dreams, and not being able to sleep in

What I wasn’t experiencing any more was fatigue, nausea, or super smelling capabilities.  These were key in both of my pregnancies, especially fatigue.

Week 7 passed by, and I thought, fatigue is coming.

I remember falling asleep on the car ride to my sister’s wedding shower when I was pregnant with Aidan  (I was a passenger!).  I remember sleeping again at the wedding shower while I waited for guests to show.  I was just over 8 weeks.  So week 9, right, week 9, fatigue will show up.

I remember with both of my pregnancies being so tired after work that I had to fight off fatigue on my way home.  I wasn’t experiencing this…I had too much energy for a body that was supposed to be growing a baby.

I wasn’t sleeping well, worrying, bad thoughts, bad dreams, but I wanted to believe fatigue was on its way.  

I had two nightmares – one where I woke up to a miscarriage that had happened and the next night, I dreamt the doctor told me bad news, and I followed it up with dinner and drinks with my parents.  Side note, I had been to an adult birthday party where everyone was drinking these lovely green margaritas, and I could just taste them by smelling a whiff of one, which is why I think this showed up in my nightmare when I received the bad news.

Mentally, for two weeks, I had been withdrawing from this pregnancy…trying to be cautious with my heart but telling myself I’m crazy and kept on planning for this baby.  I had two healthy pregnancies, surely I wouldn’t have a miscarriage.

So at 10 weeks, I went in for my ultrasound. AJ wasn’t sure if he could make, but given my lack of optimism, I knew I needed him there just in case…but the U/S was going to confirm I was crazy and everything was okay and the baby was growing, right?!

Wrong.  

The tech and I laughed about and agreed this little baby was meant to be if it beat the odds that it did. Little did she know I was extremely paranoid that she was going to confirm my worse fear, so her joking around and making comments really eased my mind.

AJ made it just in time – he came in to see the U/S tech hand down there moving the instrument around taking measurements.  She took longer than I remember any of the techs before when conducting the initial pregnancy U/S. So I felt relief, surely there must be something to measure, though she didn’t stop to show me the heartbeat like the previous tech’s did with my other pregnancies…

Then she told me “Your baby is not 10 weeks like you thought, it’s more like 5 to 6 weeks.”  No heartbeat, nothing to really look at the screen, no pictures to take home…well none that we would want to take home.

I found out shortly after 5 weeks, my fatigue and nausea symptoms stopped around 6 weeks.  If I was 5 to 6 weeks, that means when I came in over 4 weeks ago to confirm the pregnancy with a blood/urine tests, I would have been less than two weeks pregnant.  The freaking positive line on the store brand test was the first thing to show and a very dark line, NO WAY was I two weeks pregnant staring at a positive pregnancy test.   

There can be a week or so difference between the U/S and where I should be growth wise. So the OB tried to remain optimistic, he wanted to see me back in a week for another U/S to see if the baby grew more.

I joked, I told him I had planned on telling him that this was absolutely his last chance to deliver one of my babies.  He missed the actual delivery because my boys came on the weekend, and he was not on weekend duty at the time.

He joked that he plans (see, Mr. GottabeOptimistic) to induce me earlier so he can deliver my baby.

I never made it to the appointment, not pregnant at least.

I miscarried naturally starting around 8 PM on April 3^rd and done around 4 am on April 4^th.  I’m fortunate this occurred while I was at home, my boys were in bed, and AJ was home.

At work, I thought I would be prepared for this miscarriage happening, spare clothes and pads.  I thought it would be a heavy menstrual cycle.  I thought

There’s no stopping a miscarriage and the body pushing the contents of your uterus out.  I don’t care if you do 10,000 kegels a day, those muscles are going to push not contract.  If I was anywhere besides home, I wouldn’t have made it home, my car would have been a mess.  I didn’t sleep much between 8 and 4.  I’d start to drift off and then feel my body pushing something out and race to the bathroom.  Several times I didn’t make it. I went through many sets of clothes, towels and blankets.

Between midnight and 4 am, some of the times I rushed to the bathroom, I wasn’t sure if I could make it back to my bed, I would almost pass out.  I thought I was just exhausted from the process, but I later learned it was from the blood loss.

Curiosity got the best of me, too. I would have to look at the contents after they were expelled from my body. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t, but I couldn’t not know what my baby looked like.  I know the baby was extremely small whenever it stopped growing and most of the contents was the support system being built for the baby, but I had to see everything with my own eyes.

There was at least once that I slept by the toilet because I couldn’t make it back to bed. My memory is a blur, but I do know that the cold tile floor felt comforting.  There were times I was very hot and shaking with chills.  It was a miserable experience, physically and emotionally.

When I woke up the next day, I couldn’t stand or hardly sit up.  At some point I managed to make my way to the shower, but I had to lay down.  When AJ came looking for me, I was on the floor of the bathroom, towels covering me, trying to find the strength to dry off.

I asked for breakfast, a dose of iron and a glass of orange juice.  I laid there on the floor eating, and finally, I was able to sit and dry off. Eventually I was able to dress, then I was back in bed.

I thought the worse was over and that I needed to take it easy to allow my body to recover.  I was weak, so I didn’t stand long or pick my boys up.  I did take it easy, I even took a day off of work when we placed concrete, and I did not want to miss concrete.  

But a mere 10 days later, I realized the nightmare wasn’t over yet.  I passed a large clot, had a bettercallthedoctor amount of bright red bleeding, and even needed to change pants.  In addition, the day before and that day, I noticed a less than pleasant smell.  They weren’t sure if I would be able to see my OB due to an extremely busy schedule, and I understood.

Sidenote, the night before, Owen jumped on my stomach and bounced, not that I let him, it was sudden.  I really think he helped shake that clot loose, and in a way, his shenanigans, while not welcomed at the time, were probably what helped me.

I was fortunate that my doctor made time to see me.  After an U/S, I saw the nurse and the doctor who told me I had an incomplete miscarriage and some sort of complicated somethingoranother. I obviously pay attention well (truly, my memory has failed me because I did know what he said).  

My choices were to take a medication to possibly cause my body to finish the miscarriage, but there was no guarantee it would work OR to have a D&C done the very next day.  I needed my body to be done and on the path to healing, so D&C is the route I chose.  Thank goodness because with the medication, my blood levels would have dropped lower, and that’s where Being Negative picks up.


This might seem crude to others, but it's the way my science mind works.  This loss flows through our septic tank which has a drain field that feeds our backyard.  Therefore, I like to think that she is part of our ecosystem right at our house, and we'll see her grow through our plants and grass.  This world was not ready for her, so she's living the way she was meant to be. (We both thought this baby was a girl).

The Third

This post is part of a blog series detailing the experience with an unexpected pregnancy and the miscarriage that followed.

Wrong Side of the Statistic
The Third

Sucks to Be Right - Miscarriage

Being Negative

Living in the Chaos

Big News!

Once we were 2 dreaming of being 3

Then we were 3 dreaming of 4

Now we are 4

And will soon be blessed with one more.

(Ultrasound pic)

So come October, AJ and I will officially be outnumbered!

Surprised?

I debate how much I should share, because one day my kids could find my blog (and know the truth/what I didn’t tell them). I am not ashamed of my blog – it’s an online diary that I choose to share with the public.  It’s not like they couldn’t find a written diary in my room one day and read it.

So I share because I want to document it, I want to remember my feelings, and perhaps, someone out there that reads this went through what I did or is going (or will be going through) what I did.  

So if you’re shocked and surprised by the unexpected announcement, believe me, I was 1,000 x more shocked than you are.

Early in our dating period, AJ and I discussed children.  We both had the desire to have two kids. TWO.  There wasn’t a thought to having one child or having a large family. TWO was perfect for us.  

When Owen arrived, we knew in our hearts, our family was complete. We were whole.

After Owen’s first birthday, we made arrangements to ensure we only had two kids. We followed the doctor’s orders.

Then I felt something different about my body – little bloating, no acne, little fatigue, and not being able to sleep in (even when my oldest toddler did or when the boys had sleepovers elsewhere). So I started thinking, started plotting dates, started freaking out but convincing myself I was creating symptoms – I was being paranoid.  I told myself that it wasn’t easy to get to the point of being pregnant with the boys, that surely, this couldn’t just happen so randomly, so odd breaking, so easily.

So to calm my fears, I bought a pregnancy test. I bought the cheapest one I could find, and I bought just one.  All I need is one to tell me that I’m not pregnant.

So on a cold Monday morning, I awoke for work, and the first thing I did was take the test.  The test can take from 2 to 10 minutes to show up, and I thought making my breakfast and starting my coffee, then come back to read the negative pregnancy test.

But I couldn’t move away from the test…the first thing to show up was the line that differentiates a positive pregnancy test from the negative (line would be absent). Seriously? I’m looking at the test, waiting for the negative line and the control line, and the first thing I see is the positive?!  Shock starts to overcome, but I tell myself all of the lines must show up or it’s a false test…so then comes the negative line to complete the + and then the control line | shows up.

I stood there, staring at the test. Shaking, crying, freaking out. I wanted to throw it, call it a liar, and take another (which I didn’t have). I also wanted to wake AJ up, shove the test in his face and kick him in the rear.  But I didn’t. Side note, Aidan woke up several times throughout the night, and the last time I pulled him into bed, so I didn’t want to risk waking him.

Somehow I managed to get ready for work while trying to hold back tears and stop myself from shaking.  I arrived at work earlier than usual; I could not get out of my house fast enough.  I cried on the way to work.

Thanks to some close friends, I was able to process the news and get a better grasp on my future.  Without them, I’m not sure how long it would have taken me to reach acceptance and happiness.

I sent AJ a message, but unfortunately it did not go through.  So I sat at my desk for quite a while wondering why he did not call.  I understand he’s getting two boys ready for daycare, but I’m freaking out, you have to call your unexpectedly pregnant wife!  

AJ called when he dropped the boys off (which is normal routine), and I asked if he received the picture. Oh, you didn’t? Nope, what was it? Oh you know, just a POSITIVE FREAKING PREGNANCY TEST!                           Silence

AJ was not expecting the news at all – he was shocked too and asked why I felt the need to test, so I reiterated everything I had been experiencing and thinking AF should have been here by now.  AJ said we would get through this, we would find a way.  Then he joked that I would need a minivan.  Laughter is good.

THREE was not our plan.  There were so many things I intended to do this year – mainly all the adventures I was planning with the boys, and AJ and I going somewhere fun to celebrate our 10^th wedding anniversary. I was purging all the baby stuff; I was ready to get rid of two more big, baby items that are an eye sore in our living room.  We had hoped to finish our bonus area upstairs.  So many plans for the future…

The budget was planned around two.  The house was built on the concept of two.  My décor was nailed into the wall based on two.  When I traded my truck, I made sure I had the ecofriendly, higher MPG smaller SUV that comfortably fit two carseats.  Three won’t fit…the middle seat is barely a divider between two boys who pass food back and forth.

I freaked out, and I cried because my PLAN was intended for a family of four.

But my plan is not written in stone, and I am working on making those changes to my plan. I am happy and feeling extremely blessed. We can be a family of five, we will be a family of five.

At the same time, there’s no guarantee that sometime between now and October that I don’t cry over something petty, like not being able to indulge in an adult beverage on our anniversary or take time off of work to have a family vacation (need to save those days for maternity leave!)


For a while, I kept this quote from a blog I found taped to the bottom of my computer screen at work:

"How is it possible that I am distressed and delighted at the very same time? How is it that as I find myself ready to crumble and feel so heavily burdened, and I am snapped back to reality and understand the blessing that has been bestowed upon me?

Simple: I am experiencing one of life’s greatest miracles. I was chosen out of the other billions of women on this earth to be this little girl’s mother."

6 Weeks

How far along?: 6 weeks
How big is baby?: According to What to Expect When You’re Expecting: Started the week as the size of a Plum and about to be a Peach.
Weight gain?: No gain? I mean, I really wasn’t tracking, but I do have a benchmark now.
Stretch marks?: No
Maternity clothes?: No – I will need to acquire some since I sold every piece of maternity clothing I owned.
Sleep?: Sleep has been terrible.  If something wakes me up, I have a hard time falling asleep.  My mind is constantly running, so I can’t calm down to sleep.
Best moment this week?: Finding acceptance that my life plan was changed unexpectedly.
Worst moment this week?: Honestly… watching the pregnancy test knowing that it would tell me I wasn’t pregnant, and the first thing that shows up with the positive portion of the test.  No denying that I was pregnant. I panicked, I freaked out, I started crying, and I started shaking. (The good news is I moved past denial and being upset within a few days)

Food cravings?: None yet, trying to eat the healthy stuff while I can stomach it.

Food aversions: None developed this week. I will add that I still cannot eat barbequed pork, which started when I was pregnant with Aidan. 4 years! The sight of it makes me nauseous.
Symptoms: Some nausea and morning sickness, fatigue, periods of insomnia
Exercise?: While I won’t quit exercising, I won’t do the strenuous portions of P90x either.  I only exercised a few days because I did not have the motivation or energy to do so this week.

Gender?: Too early to tell.
Movement?: Nope, still too early
Belly button?: Still in
What I miss?: Having a sound plan.  Do you sense a theme? We do prepare for the unexpected – AJ getting injured, that was unexpected. Minor car accident, unexpected, but prepared.  Aidan’s ER visit, unexpected but again, we had means to be prepared.  This wonderful blessing - completely unexpected and unprepared. However, we’ll get there, and as AJ said when I caught him off guard with the news, “We’ll figure this out, we can make anything work.”
What I'm looking forward to?: Not freaking out

7 Weeks

How far along?: 7 weeks
How big is baby?: 
Weight gain?: None.
Stretch marks?: No
Maternity clothes?: Not wearing any, trying to wear the shirts and jeans I love the most before I no longer can!

Sleep?: Sleep was better this week…if my toddler wouldn’t wake me up before 5am, I would have a full night’s rest.
Best moment this week?: Playing at the park with my boys after work!  I love being outside and running around with them.
Worst moment this week?: When the doctor’s office called and told me that my progesterone levels were lower than they like to see. Thankfully, the lower levels can be corrected easily. I feel like I’ve been on a wild rollercoaster ride of emotions over the past week – from freaking out about the pregnancy to freaking out about low levels affecting the baby.

Food cravings?: I really want greasy, thin crust pizza, but I didn’t indulge…too much effort to go by the local pizzeria since it means getting the kids out of the car.

Food aversions: So I made black bean and avocado quesadillas for lunch all week at work. I love these, but by Thursday, I was gagging, and had to throw a portion of it away. Even though I stopped eating it, I still wound up sick.

Symptoms: Some fatigue, little nausea, one case of morning sickness.  These symptoms have not been bad or seem mild compared to my boys’ pregnancies, so of course, that only adds to the paranoia about the baby being okay (ya know, the progesterone levels I mention up there). However, I know that every pregnancy can be different and no symptoms does not mean something bad. I know…doesn’t mean I won’t be paranoid.
Exercise?: Only running after my boys – I go to sleep soon after I put Aidan to bed, which was my work out time.

Gender?: Too early to tell.
Movement?: Nope, still too early
Belly button?: Still in
What I miss?: Coffee – not only as a drink to warm me up and as a pick me up, but helpful for digestive purposes too.
What I'm looking forward to?: To the ultrasound at the end of March when I am 10 weeks.  I can’t believe I have to wait so long (8 weeks with my boys), but I tried twice to reschedule my appointment with no luck.

8 Weeks

A picture was all I could manage at the end of 8 weeks, I no longer felt like I could write a blog. At week 9, I completely gave up on the picture documentation, and at week 10, the news I dreaded was confirmed.

Wrong Side of the Statistic

http://pixshark.com/funny-statistics-class-jokes.htm

If you know me, you know I can be a smart alec and like my humor. So while things can be serious, I still need to joke, but it doesn’t mean I’m discounting the seriousness of the situation.  It means I’m coping.

So in a statistic I’m considering, there are the odds of something occurring or not occurring – success and failures.  There always seems to be that pesky 1.  Somebody has to be that 1.  

Throughout the years, I felt I have (or we have) been on the good side of the statistic.  I tried to think of several examples, but I feel if I presented some of these I would jinx myself, so I’ll refrain.  But as an example, being on the good side of the statistic is approximately 1 of 3 test takers fail the Professional Engineering Exam the first time – I was not the 1.   

For some unknown reason (maybe parental exhaustion) we skipped the hoppin’ Johns and collards at New Year’s. Apparently they kept the 1 at bay all these years.  Not only good health and success, but collards and blacked eye pees keep you from being the not so fun statistic.  Not skydiving for us this year!

You can bet we will be eating extra heapings of hoppin’ Johns and collards next year, in fact, maybe we need a mid year New Year celebration.

So anyway, being the 1.  

A while back we decided to ensure we didn’t populate the earth with any more children.  We were happy with two, and two was always our plan.  We were ready for the next stage in our life, so we took extra steps to ensure we wouldn’t be able to reproduce…or so we thought.

TWO modes of failure (methods of prevention), one mode of success (ovulating at the correct time) – BAM: 1:20,000 (or 25,000 depending on the success you give ovulation)

ONE in TWENTY THOUSAND chances.  We were the ONE.

We were expecting for the third time…

Believe me, I needed to see these numbers while I commenced my freaking out.  I needed to understand the changes of this happening and accepting that this determined little blessing was meant to be.

Freaking out turned to excitement and love…

BUT then we were hit by the statistic again.

Depending on what site you read and age and other factors, you can have a different statistic, but it’s an ugly statistic no matter how you look at it. 1:4 or 1:5, it doesn’t matter, the right side is too high, how about 1:1,000,000. Yes please, but science says no.

From excitement and love to fear and panic…

The ugly word, miscarriage.

From panic to healing, but from healing to somethingisn’tright

Incomplete miscarriage, 1:50

So I went for a D&C, where I found out I needed a blood transfusion.  I’m not sure what those odds are, I’m done googling, but at least I didn’t become some other statistic in the days between miscarriage and the D&C/blood transfusion.  So my luck has had to change, right?!

From somethingisn’tright to recovery to finding peace

Now to plan my midyear New Year’s Eve celebration for June 30th.  Anyone up for fireworks, beer and hoppin’ johns with collards? Come on over, we’re shedding our 1 luck, but please don’t plan on staying up until midnight, I won’t make it.

Sharing is helping me find peace, so here I’ll share the different draft blogs I wrote and posts sharing more abut our experience:

The Third :

• Big News! – What I wrote to share the surprising news.  My plan was to keep it a secret until we told my parents at Easter (11 weeks) and then share it on social media through my blog.
• Following Big News! would be Surprised?.  Again, the plan was two, and I think people knew that it was two…I was quite vocal that I thought I could only handle two, especially with AJ’s job and being gone a lot on weekends.
• 6 Weeks
• 7 Weeks
• 8 Weeks

Sucks to Be Right - Miscarriage

Being Negative

Living in the Chaos

A Holiday Weekend in the Life

As with every major holiday, AJ has to work.  Usually he is nearby and returns home every day, but this past weekend, he was sent to help out with bike week in Myrtle Beach from Thursday morning until Monday afternoon.

So to keep the boys entertained and my mind occupied (ya know, so I don’t worry about AJ), we kept a busy schedule starting Thursday afternoon.

I was off work early Thursday to sign some bank paperwork, though the bank failed to tell me they cancelled the signing after I contacted the closing attorney who I thought was late to the closing.  It was not a good start to the weekend, but at least I was able to get the boys a little early.

Thursdays in the spring and summer mean the park or the pool.  Being that I was outside a lot for work this Thursday, I opted for the pool.  We swam for an hour or so before returning home to call it a day.

Friday the boys slept in (well after 7 am is sleeping in…).  This was Aidan’s last day in 3K, so we rushed around the house to be on time at 8:30.  I dropped both boys off so I could run errands and attempt to clean and do laundry.

Adding a cushion to a very old chair, just needs finishing touches

At 4 PM, the boys and I were at the pool.  My mom came by, too, which was helpful so at least the kid to adult ratio was 1:1.  We enjoyed pizza and basically had the pool to ourselves.

Once the boys were in bed, I packed for our busy Saturday – Zoo and the pool!

The boys were up around 7am and we were out the door by 8 am on the way to the zoo.  I like to get there early for a close parking spot and avoid some of the crowds.  By 12:30 both of the boys were exhausted so we headed back to Aiken.  I had promised Aidan a new toy if he was good the last two weeks of 3k and if he was good for me – off to Target we went.  Aidan chose a transforming ninja turtle.  I HIGHLY recommend not getting this toy, it causes more tears than smiles through it’s frustrating (to toddlers) to transform.  The turtle shell comes unlatched often, and well, that’s unacceptable to a 3 year old.

Carousel ride and a pretzel are a must at the zoo for these boys

Again, we arrived home close to bed time, so after baths, the boys relaxed while watching Mickey Mouse while I unloaded the car, loaded the dish washer and washer machine, and tried to eat something. Hah.  

Sunday, I decided we would take it easy.  The boys woke up around 7 again, and I snuggled in bed with both of them, getting lots of hugs and kisses from them.  After breakfast, I attempted to clean the house while the boys played in the living room.  Owen wanted to color, so I let him have two markers.  Then I made the mistake of getting dressed to take them to the park.

Only Crayola washable products are allowed in this house for the reason you see above.. not pictured is the colored floor and walls

The boys played at the park for several hours, breaking for a snack.  We then hit up Kroger since I wanted to read the Sunday paper.  Owen fell asleep on the way home, and I was able to transfer him to the crib without interrupting his nap.  Aidan ate and played quietly while I found more laundry to do.  By the time Owen woke up for his nap, we were ready to go back to the pool.  Papa and Grammy met us at the pool, so Aidan played with Papa most of the time.  Aidan loves to dive down in the water with Papa and show off his swimming ability, plus it’s not quite hot enough for me to want to go fully under the water willingly. 

Again, another late evening at the pool, so I got the boys home, fed, and into bed.  Then I prepared for the next day, packing for the kid’s museum and possibly the pool or splash park.

The boys were up before 7 am, so we were able to leave by 7:45 to arrive at Edventure’s when they open at 9AM.  We enjoyed exploring the new Potato Head exhibit, the butterfly garden, and all of the other play areas for several hours.  Around noon, the boys were exhausted and hungry, so we headed home.

In Owen's grovery cart, he stocks up on an essential  - chocolate ice cream cones 

AJ called to tell me he would be home around 1 PM, so instead of the pool or splash park, we headed home. AJ set up the water slide and played with the boys until bath time.

bottom middle is my crazy toddler howling like a dog, so it's only fitting he uses a doggy door

I survived the weekend of solo parenting and enjoyed waking up Tuesday morning to peace and quiet.  I enjoyed hot coffee with my breakfast and not telling anyone to eat, sit down, or quit messing with your brother…but I’ll miss my boys while I’m at work, but I sure do need to recuperate from the weekend!

The not so good highlights

• Owen swallowed a penny (passed it with no issues)
• Aidan thought he would die because he had a blister on his ankle from wearing his crocs too much
• I ran out of wine!
• Seeing the family photos of everyone's fun weekend,  not going to lie, I was jealous that the entire family had quality time together for 3 to 4 days.

Being Negative

I tried to think of a somewhat attention grabbing title so that I would entice you to read – yeah, how did that work?

I’m going to be somewhat serious.

I’ve checked yes on being an organ donor for as long as I can remember having the option.

I’ve signed up to be a marrow donor after realizing I should have signed up many years ago, and after realizing how someone saved my uncle’s life. I knew if I could ever repay that favor on his behalf, I would be honored.

I’ve known my dad to give bloody for many, many, many years. He inspired me, whether he knows it or not, to also be a blood donor.

You see, I’m O-, the universal blood donor, the baby blood donor, the blood they keep on emergency helicopters. Nurses say I have great veins and never have an issue sticking me. My workplace has a blood mobile 300’ feet from my office every two months, which means I can give on my lunch break. So how can I not give? I can easily help people – save up to 3 local lives with each donation as our local blood bank tells me.

So you see, I’m negative, and it’s a wonderful thing. Less than 7% of the population is O-.

I’ve tried to give blood regularly but between my hemoglobin being slightly low for donation requirements and pregnancies, I wasn’t able to give as much as I would like.  However, since Owen, my hemoglobin has been fantastic, and I believe I was only turned away once.  I recently received another gallon pin donation, and I had a goal to donate 6 times this year!  The first donation of the year went well, and I was looking forward to my next one in March.

But plans changed…and they changed again.

I thought, how much do I share? I didn’t want to share, but then I realized the gift I had received and its impact.

Last week, I had a blood transfusion. Some wonderful donor out there potentially saved my life.

I didn’t want the blood, and at first I tried to turn it down. Knowing that I can only receive O- and knowing that there has to be more critical people out there who needed it – I felt guilty and selfish for even the suggestion of a blood transfusion. To me, donated blood was for those who had cancer, babies in dire need, life or death situations, I didn’t feel like my situation met those criteria in my mind.

But that’s why we have doctors, because they know what we really need. They’re looking out for our health, they know the risks, and they don’t make decisions lightly, at least I believe this to be true of my doctor. 

My doctor had asked me how I was able to stand, let alone function without passing out…I wanted to be a smart alec and tell him on my own two feet, but I refrained

Thinking back, I had been tired and having headaches the past week, I figured it was my body recovering. I was also taking iron because I knew I had lost blood. I didn't realize how dire my situation was or could have been. 11 days later my blood loss, my blood levels were bad – hematocrit, hemoglobin and especially the Red blood count.

I mean, otherwise, I felt relatively healthy. I did. 

I never thought at any point when I donated blood that I would one day need someone else's donation. Never

When I woke up after surgery and the blood transfusion, I could tell a significant difference in my body, my headache was also gone. When I woke up the next morning, I didn't feel any sort of dizziness. I felt like a new person. I couldn't believe the difference since receiving the blood transfusion.  

I felt I could run a marathon – rest assured, I continued to rest, I realized how much I needed to follow doctor’s orders.

That day, I penned an email to our local blood bank thanking them for everything they do.  Without them, who knows how my body would have replenished itself - what if something bad did happen due to the low levels? Passing out while driving my kids? Or just passing out while my husband was at work? What if I hit my head?  Not good thoughts…

I’m still taking lots of iron as part of recovery, and I know I’m not 100% but I am getting there, slowly but surely. Frustrating because I want to run, I want to work out, I want to pick my kids up and spin them in circles – okay one circle, I get dizzy even when I’m 100%.  But I am OKAY, and I am better each day.  Just a week later, I am amazed at the difference in how I feel physically.

No worries either, the reason for the blood levels being so low is known and not occurring again, so no further health risks or blood loss.

So what made me share today?

My local blood bank sent me a birthday email – someone possibly ensured me that I saw my 32^nd birthday. 

I am sad because I cannot donate for an entire year because I had a blood transfusion.  There goes my goal…

But I went on to blood bank website, and one of the many ways to help the local blood bank is 1. Donating! 2. Advocating 3. Holding a Blood Drive

So by sharing, I hope to advocate.  Maybe you’re a sometimes donor or a one-time donor or a never donor.  Can you help me – can you donate one time for me? Just once…help me ease my guilt of taking blood by you giving some. You don’t need to be local, any donation anywhere helps!  So I’m advocating, and I’ll advocate for the next year until I can get back to Number 1 – Donating.  

And thank you to the regular donors – thank you to whoever was my donor.

Oops Paint - A Project's Beginning

Have you ever had a project in mind but feel you can't get started until you figure out a paint color? Why does the finish hold up the start?

I knew I had a color in mind that I wanted for the pantry. Wait back up, I knew, even when we moved in that I wanted to replace the wire shelves in the pantry.  They bend under weight, they let food slip through the openings, and they look awful.  So it made sense (to me) to replace them eventually.  At the time the house was built, we had the option of laminate or wire shelves, but for cost cutting measures, we kept everything wire shelves, even the master closet.

So the time came when I found inspiration to renovate the pantry, but I need a paint color.  I did not want the plain white walls, which only highlights the white ugly shelves.  I knew I wanted an orangish, maybe pinkish color.  I need something brighter.  The light in the pantry is partially blocked by all the shelving and the food, so a neutral darker color wouldn't work.

For several weeks, I stopped by Home Depot and Lowe's to check out their supply of "oops paints" to see if a color caught my eyes.  Two weeks in a row, neither store had more than one color, so disappointing!  But the third week, I found a color I thought would do.  For $5.00, it was worth a chance, surely better than plain white walls.



Upon finding a suitable paint color, I went home and cleaned the pantry out.  Between the sunroom and our counter in the breakfast area, I was able to temporarily store everything in our pantry.  Though it made it harder to hide the sweets from the boys, and Bo thought he was being spoiled rotten with all the new food in his room.

The worst part about taking out the wire shelves was patching all of the support holes.  Though I did have some choice words to say to the nails that would not easily come out, and I did pinch part of my skin.  Once the patching was behind me, and I patiently waited for it to dry, I taped so I could paint after the boys went to bed.  Painting in such a small space seems to require some talent.  You have to be careful with the order you paint the walls so that you don't back yourself up into wet paint.  I put two coats of paint on, and once it dried, I took down all the tape.

I had Lowe's make most of the cuts for the plywood shelving, but all of the support framing was kept whole until I arrived home.  I took out both of the car seats and folded down the back seat in order to transport the wood!

Based on stud spacing, I knew which wall I wanted to start with so not to interfere with the 16" that studs should be spaced.  I measured for all 5 shelves on the back wall, cut, fit, and then removed.  I wanted to stain the framing because I knew it would be exposed.  Some pins I found on Pinterest put 1/4" board on the bottom, but I wasn't super crazy about the added weight or found it necessary.

So I would stain, install, measure more board, ensure they fit, and stained those boards. Repeat!  It was a slow process waiting on the stain to dry, but I didn't want to cut a board based on the assumed depth of the 2" x 2" framing since the boards aren't exactly straight, which means it could cause my intersecting boards to be longer or shorter.  This project really tested my patience because when I get an inspiration, I want to complete it quickly so I can admire the finished project.

AJ had some leftover wood, and he showed me how to rip it to get it to the correct width.  We have a mix of two colors for our cabinets in our kitchen and master bedroom, so I thought the medium stain with a natural trim would look great.  I really like how the shelves turned out, and I like going into my pantry and not seeing the ugly white trim. Total spent - $85.00

No judging the contents :)

I have had numerous other house projects that I had hoped to share how I did it, but there's not much time left after doing the project and trying to share it...something about two crazy little boys consuming all of my time and energy!


A train table for the boys in the nook area, a photo clock at the breakfast table (we can say to Aidan, you need to have your dinner finished by the time the hand reaches Rosalind, and he knows where to look) photo ledge shelves on a wall outside of the master bedroom, laundry room organization for all the cleaning tools, and a ruler for marking the boys yearly growth (and they love to see how tall they are throughout the year!)

Half Birthday - An Owen Update

Owen celebrates his half birthday on Pie day, how cool is that?!  I thought about letting him have pie, but a sugar high toddler doesn't sound appealing on a rainy day.

Owen doesn't go to his well check up until the end of the month, but according to our scale he is 30+ lbs and over 33" tall, so tracking slightly behind his brother, but not by much.

Owen continues to be a great sleeper, whether it's nap time or bed time, he usually goes down without a fuss.  Though he has started waking earlier, but that's due to hearing his big brother.  He looooooooves breakfast, he cannot get enough food fast enough at breakfast.  He will cry and pitch a fit if he has to wait for his food to be prepared.  He will immediately run to his high chair and point at it, indicating he wants up.

Speaking of "up", it's one word that Owen loves to use.  He'll reach up, arch his back, move his fingers, and say "up" when he's not picked up right away.  He's also found he likes the word "mine" and "no".  While he sleeps well, when Owen is awake, he is trouble.  Dramatic, too.  He cracks me up, but at the same time, I'm not use to the drama.  Owen is also a biter and a hitter, but part of that problem is due to big brother snatching things from him or knocking him down.



Snuck a banana

Back to food...besides breakfast, we have difficulty getting Owen to eat.  Not at daycare, not a grandparent's houses, but around mom and dad, Owen is a very picky lunch and dinner eater.  Again, he's throwing curve balls at us because Aidan generally ate well and ate a lot of food.

Like Aidan, Owen loves being outside.  He understands "outside" and "park."  Though if you take Owen to a park, he cares more about petting the random dogs than sliding or swinging.  He calls all dogs "Bo" or "Bobo".  


When he's not distracted by dogs, he is trying to climb up everything to go down the bigger slides.  Most people are surprised to learn his age when they see him playing at the park, but Owen watches Aidan and feels he has to do everything Aidan does.  I'm constantly surprised by what he can climb or objects he finds to help him reach what he can't easily climb.  

 Owen has been a bigger dare devil than Aidan.  Owen months ago stood up on rocking toys, hands up, proud of himself.  He climbs on everything possible, and he will move a chair to reach something off the counter.  He is determined.


We still let Owen have his pacifier, though recently I have considered taking it away, but I really don't want to mess up the sleep routine.  We already have one toddler waking us up randomly throughout the night, we need the other to be the easy sleeper.  Owen is also obsessed with his loveys.  He has two - a monkey and a giraffe, and he has to have both at night, though he only brings one to day care.

So looking back on my Aidan blog, I apparently thought asking and answering questions based on his current actions was a good idea, so I figured I would repeat it for Owen.

1. What is your favorite color? Owen doesn't show a color preference.  Whatever color, he will try to eat it.
2. What is your favorite toy? His favorite toy is whatever toy Aidan currently has or any that are neatly organized in bins.

3. What is your favorite fruit? Banana
4. What is your favorite tv show? He doesn't care for tv, maybe the intro to Mickey Mouse Club House, which causes him to dance. Owen rarely watches tv since he goes to bed before we put a show on for Aidan.
5. What is your favorite thing to eat for lunch? Again, at home, he's a pill when it comes to eating lunch.  He'll eat a banana.
6. What is your favorite outfit? He prefers no clothes
7. What is your favorite game?  He loves throwing balls to Bo
8. What is your favorite snack?  Popcorn
9. What is your favorite animal? Dogs!
10. What is your favorite song? Itzy Bitzy Spider (same as Aidan!)
11. What is your favorite book? Whatever book I read Aidan
12. Who is your best friend?  Bo or Aidan
13. What is your favorite cereal?Cheerios

14. What is your favorite thing to do outside?  Play in the mud with his brother or be at the park
15. What is your favorite drink? Milk
16. What is your favorite holiday? Any holiday
17. What do you like to take to bed with you at night? His loveys and pacifer
18. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast Oatmeal
19. What do you want for dinner on your birthday? We'll offer everything, and he will refuse it all. Hah
20. What do you want to be when you grow up? Veterinarian or daredevil/stunt man

Making Friends in Your Thirties

I think finding friends can best be represented by a logarithmic graph, and the limit as you approach 30 (or really infinity) tapers off to some constant, let's say 20 (But you have 300 FB friends!!!). Let's be real, how many do you regularly hang out with?...and as a parent, I'll define regularly as once every 6 months.  School made finding friends (not necessarily making or keeping friends) easier.  Therefore, after it college, it appears that you start slowing down, and while you have less friends, you probably have more meaningful friendships, right?! Quality over quantity.



I have made some great friends post college days, mostly reconnecting with friends from high school who live and work in my home town.  So we generally knew each other prior to becoming friends (or better friends).



I have also been fortunate to have found some great friends when I was pregnant with Aidan due to the internet (pregnancy message boards).  So we had quite the long courtship in our friendship prior to meeting in person, though I was still nervous to meet in person, but I felt I knew them well.  My instinct was right because I don't know what I would do without these friends, and we get together regularly. We also chat a lot, and they are a big part of my life. I've now known them for close to 4 years!



But branching out from the home town and my pregnancy board friends...I haven't done that....until now.



I was nervous, like first date with a cute guy nervous.  In fact, I haven't been this nervous since AJ picked me up for our first date.



I was worried about what to wear, worried about my hair, worried about whether I should wear my cowboy boots or my camo boots (hey, it was raining, I was trying to think practical).

I was worried about being late, I was worried about the short lasting "diarrhea of the mouth" disease. 

I was worried she might cancel (because there was snow on the ground).



So I was nervous and worried, but I was also excited.  This could potentially be a new friend, how cool is that?!



It's not like we didn't know each other - it wasn't hey my kid played with your kid at the park, and I've never seen you before, so let's hang out . 

Nothing crazy or scary -  I have interacted with her over a two year period, so I kind of knew her.



Since the boys were with family, I was able to venture out by myself.  So it would really eliminate the chaos and allow to me to focus and hold a real adult conversation.  At first, it appeared that we would meet up and shop. SHOP! I'm such a picky shopper, and not really someone you want to go shopping with unless you know my tendencies.  I have such a hard time making a decision because I don't want to make a bad purchase and be out the money. I despise returning things. I usually shop online because I can research and agonize over my decision without tons of people around me wondering why I am staring at the same item for ten minutes.  Don't get me wrong, I like nice things, I have nice things, but the decision to buy them is a long process.  So not only am I a difficult shopper, but I also do not like crowds. If a sales person asks me if I need help finding anything, or if a stranger gets in my personal space, I'm ready to leave the store.  Just pretend I'm not there, is that so hard?



But fortunately, things turn to a lunch date instead of meet and go shop date.  I can do food - just not super unhealthy fried food and really, let's avoid a chain restaurant.  Also, I don't know what I want to eat, so here I go, being difficult again. However, she stuck through the decision making progress.  Basically, she did all of the work once I asked if she wanted to hang out.  I mean, asking was hard, right?! 



Lunch was great, food was great, talking was great.

But we both had a few free hours from our kids, so why waste it, let's do something.  Back to shopping, there are several new stores that recently opened, so it seemed like a good idea to check them out.



The first stop was a shoe store - I have been looking for some Ariat (see, I like nice stuff) cowgirl boots, pointed toe with a pattern but no rhinestones or weird color embroidery. Thus the shoe store sounded like a great idea.

We quickly learned, I'm country, she's not.  But we looked at all the boots and clearance shoes, and I feel like I wasn't an awkward shopping partner.  I saw some nice boots, but none were the cowboy boots that I was searching for (by the way, Amazon saves the day on those).  Then we went to a home goods store, and in fact, that might be the name of the store.  I always like a kitchen gadget, and I was in need of some storage solutions, but I found nothing.  After we were done there, it was either more shopping or go get coffee.



THANK GOODNESS I like coffee now, what would have happened if it was two years ago?! More shopping?! And what if I was too awkward because I already hit my shopping threshold?! Coffee was the best decision, and I felt comfortable. We talked for a long time, and I think it went well, but then it was time to go home.  She dropped me back off at my car, and I had some stuff to give her, so I retrieved it. But she got out of her car, and all I could think about was PLEASE do not be a hugger!  Really Diana? Really? Yes, that was my honest thought.  Nope, she grabbed the stuff, and we parted ways. Whew, saved.



So in all, I confessed to not liking being around people (like a neighborhood - I much prefer the secluded country, and there were probably several more examples)...but I hope I made it clear that I like friends. Side note, I like to control who is around me, which is why I don't shop on Black Friday and absolutely despise going into stores between Thanksgiving and the day after Christmas. I don't like being around all those people.  



I also admit to being more country, and hey, I would love cow farmers as neighbors (I mean, who wouldn't...better than people!)



And I probably talked more than I should and had a mild case of the "diarrhea of the mouth" disease.



However, that did not stop me from texting her a short while after arriving home.  It's almost like dating, hah. I hope she liked me, and I hope we can hang out again.  And then I checked my phone obsessively to see if she responded to my text.



She did...and we'll hang out again. :)



Then the next thought came - when is it appropriate for us to be FB friends? I mean, nothing is official if it isn't on FB, right?! 



And when it becomes FB official, I should probably delete this post, right?! Would it be awkward to read this? Oy, I’m so fortunate I have understanding friends.



If you haven’t made a new friend in a while, I suggest trying it out.  It was a great time. (So now I can refrain from making any more friends until my forties, hah!)

Twelve (and a Half) Months

So I tried to write a 12 month post/Dear Owen the night before his birthday, but I couldn't.  I couldn't believe I would have another toddler the next day, so I lived the next two weeks in denial.  I delayed saying I needed his 1 year stats.  All my excuses are gone, so here I am, accepting I have another toddler and most importantly, no more baby. :(

At his well visit, Owen weighed 25.4 lbs and was 32” tall.  He was in the 99^th percentile for each, and I think he was taller than Aidan was at one year.  Owen, fortunately, did not react to his shots like his brother did.  He cried for a minute, took his pacifier, and as we were leaving, he was waving and smiling at everyone.

Despite wanting to live in denial, I love how active Owen is and love seeing his personality develop. He knows when he is missing out, like daddy and Aidan riding the tractor.  But he also knows that he can cry and the toy Aidan has or has taken will be given back (in most cases).  He knows that he can try to tackle, tickle, and pat Aidan.  He knows Aidan is "bubba" and has even said "Aidan".  Owen knows that Bo's room has a baby gate, and when he sees the gate open, he looks back at me, then closes it.

Owen can practically run, and he loves chasing after Aidan.  If he hears the door open, he runs towards to see who came in or to catch whoever is leaving.  He loves to climb up stairs, climb up slides, and climb all over Bo.  

Owen is excited about remote controls and keys.  He also loves to eat puzzles and run after balls.  He likes to bring blocks and toys to Aidan, daddy or me.  He has learned to say “thank you”.  He gives you something, and he says “thank you”.

I couldn’t imagine our family without Owen. 

Aidan can be a sweet big brother, but he can also be rough.  I can’t wait for the day for Owen to hold his own.  Aidan does apologize, sometimes not very sweetly, but he’ll learn.