Once More for Old Times Sake

I pee'd on a stick today. Somehow, someway, I had convinced myself that I was pregnant. After all that we went through to get LadyBug, I actually thought that I had managed to get knocked up all on my own. On one try. What have I been smoking??

Two weeks ago I noticed something that seemed an awful lot like EWCM. I had weaned Kate the prior month, and was expecting a period at some point. Then the slippery clear stuff. I got a little twinkle in my eye (hadn't I heard that you're most fertile after pregnancy?) and made some serious advances toward BigB. You could tell he was like, WTF, but obviously not confused enough to put up much of a fight.

Then of course all the symptoms started. Boobies a bit sore. Having to pee every two hours during the night, feeling a little queasy. I had done it! The unheard of was going to come true!
I was literally counting my projected due date, names for the new wee one, and the impending move we'd need to make with a fourth in the family. I went through the dreaded TWW, and pulled out a slightly dusty, but unexpired test from the depths of the bathroom cabinet. I waited till BigB had left for work, and then POAS with abandon and sat that little stick on my countertop and started the 60 second countdown.

No second line.

I checked that damn thing like twenty times. Even left it there and went back like an hour later, just in case it needed a little more time to read my pee correctly.

My fantasy ended up in the trash can, wrapped in paper towel to disguise my stupidity.

Being the infertile that I am, I've heard the story countless times. "As soon as you have a baby, your body will know what to do." Or, "my cousin's best friend's aunt couldn't get pregnant, and as soon as she had her first, she got pregnant on her own - didn't even plan it!" I fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. And, of course, to top it off, eight hours later my favorite aunt showed up. First time in a year and a half. Funny. I still hate that biatch.

I swore up and down that I would NOT go through the emotional roller coaster of years past. If we get pregnant again, we get pregnant again. No more monthly anticipation followed with tremendous crashes. Over and over and over again. Somehow I'm going to have to find a balance. Still "trying" without getting emotionally wrapped up in it all. I'll let ya know how that works out for me.

Just Being and Not Doing

BigB looked over at me tonight and said, "ya know, we've become that old couple."

We were sitting on the couch, just chillin' to some music and enjoying a little down time while LadyBug slept.

"What d'ya mean? That old couple?" I replied.

"You know. That old couple they always talk about. Where she's reading a magazine and showing him everything in it. That's what we're doing. You're reading that catalog, reading it to me, and showing me the pictures."

Its true. I was. It's a Friday night, I'm devouring the latest CrateNBarrell, and showing him practically every page. There's just so much cool stuff in there! We need it all, right? That super cool skillet that makes teeny little pancakes? That sweet mini bar? Those cute red dishes? Doesn't he want to see all this awesome stuff? I'm interested in it...shouldn't he? He is my "other half."

This is what our Friday nights have become. Hanging out with a home retailers magazine. At first glance it may seem a little sad. A little "old." But ya know, I LOVE it. Just doing nothing. Having no where to go. Nothing that has to get done.

Having a baby changes your free time. You crave it. You need it. Those few moments when you can just "be" and not "do." I never really understood it...I mean, how hard can parenting be? Ha. Endless entertaining, diapering, feeding, wailing, bathing. If the baby is awake, you're tending to her. If she's asleep, you're trying to get the kajillion other things done that you've put off: that pile of dishes, the laundry, brushing your teeth, showering.

And then comes the night. When she's finally asleep. The monitor makes no noise but a soothing buzz. Then it's my time. I'll sacrifice sweet sleep for a few hours of nothingness. By the time I have more than a few hours of alone time before bed, I'll have to wear readers and it'll be the latest edition of AARP.

I'm a Big Girl Now

New Year's Eve I wore a very low-cut dress. I had to squeeze myself into it. It was embarrassing. BigB had to help me zipper the thing up. BUT, lemme tell you, my girls looked GOOD. I felt more than a little self-conscious, but BigB was practically begging me to wear it while wiping up his drool with his sleeve.

We headed out for the evening. Our first stop for the evening was two window seats at a little swanky bar. The valet outside, I swear, was staring at my little ladies through the window. He unabashedly oogled his way not once, but three times past our window. Didn't matter that BigB could've thrown him to the ground and made him into a mincemeat pie.

The waiter walked by, looked down into the cleavage, and muttered some uninteligeable guttural sounds, similar to the dad in the Christmas Story as he watched his Christmas Turkey get devoured by the Bumpkis' dogs. Couldn't discern a word.

As we crossed the street to the restaurant, some very drunk college boy stopped my husband and asked, "is this your sister? cuz she looks really good." Again, BigB could have tromped the little sophomore with one hand tied behind his back, but this kid thought my chest worth the risk.

I was loving it. Almost made the six months of breastfeeding worth it. I felt pretty powerful and made me think about all the girls out there with a lifetime of huge melons and what they're able to manipulate. But alas, I did wean sweet LadyBug so I imagine this prowess is short lived. I didn't MEAN to wean her...it was supposed to be a gradual thing, but as soon as I stopped pumping at work it just completely dried up. Now it's just a matter of time before I'm back to my B's.

It's a New Year

Okay...so I have to keep my New Year's Resolution (to actually keep this blog going). So, here's a post. See! I can keep my resolution! The others are to exercise more and to say "no" to deserts. Those I sadly failed at already.

2009 was an awesome year. Really. I feel so blessed. Every day I'm amazed that God gave me this sweet little girl to love and care for. I'm still blown away that she's here. Having her has made me realize how fortunate I am. I have a job. I have a loving, caring husband. I'm healthy. My family is healthy. I have a home.

I'm looking forward to what 2010 will bring. I look forward to this new outlook on life - that it'll cast a faintly rose-colored hue...just enough to remind myself of all the good things life has to offer.

And, just so you can see for yourself, here's little Lady Bug herself. Showing off the sweet little smile that just makes my heart burst.

Last night me and Big B rang in the new year by dining at Serious Pie and then going to see the Seattle Symphony (Beethoven's 9th), with a little Salsa dancing afterward. It was the most fun we've had in a long time. Lady Bug stayed overnight with my parents, and I didn't worry a bit (her first time away from us overnight). It was the perfect start to the New Year.

Car Seat Shopping Can Be So Bittersweet

Last night we spent a few blessed HOURS at Babi.es.RUs. Because, dear, sweet, Lady Bug has outgrown her infant car seat. Yep..little girl is at the 98% for height and weight and has simply outgrown the thing. Her little legs project out past the end of it and are practically smooshed against the car seat. And, we can hardly cart the carrier around because her 21 pounds plus the carrier = hernia.

I swear, every time I go into that store its like I've stepped into some weird bizarro land. It's just so surreal. An acre or so of just kid crap makes your head swim. This time was even more surreal. Seeing all these pregnant girls there, setting up their registry with their husbands/significant others - it brought back so many memories. I remember it being such a blur. What do I need? Should I get this type of bottle or that brand? Which exersaucer, changing pad covers, sheets, diaper pail was the best? I remember feeling so completely out of my element. So completely unsure of what I was doing.

Seeing those girls, with their swollen bellies, so full of anticipation, so unaware of what was to come. I wanted to rush up to them and tell them, "it'll be okay! You'll be fine! Your baby will be fine! You'll make it! It doesn't matter which bottle or how many onesies you have! You'll be a great mom, and your baby will love you, and you'll step through this door into a new and wonderful, yet completely different and challenging part of life.

I also wanted to tell them to try to enjoy each and every minute. Because the sleepless nights and the tiny onesies will pass, and soon your tiny little sweetheart will be too big for her carseat, and so big you'll need biceps the size of texas to cart her around.

Birthing Class Reunites

I have no concept of time, whatsoever. Something happened during the birthing/infant process and I can no longer discern the passing of time...especially at night, when I get those precious few hours of sleep. I'm SURE that it has only been five minutes since my head hit the pillow and when precious baby decides its time to wake snoring mommy up for a little midnight snack.

And now, I can't believe its been a month since my last post. Goodness. My next one will be when she starts kindergarten. Or starts her period. Or starts her own family. Because *BLINK* and the day is over and a new one has begun.

Last night was our birthing class reunion. It was really fun to see real-time genetic experiments. You get to know these couples over a seven week cycle, then you get to see what kind of baby they produce (some of them more successful than others, he he). You also get to see what the gals look like without an extra 20-30 pounds, without stretchy pants, and without the perpetual waddle. We shared our birth stories (mine was the worst, I'm sure), bitch about the hospital, and whine about our postpartum issues. I think when it was over, everyone was a little reluctant to leave. There was this sort of team camaraderie, that we were all in for *something* but no one knew what. And then we're pushed out of the nest to discover for ourselves what this whole parenting thing is all about.

an update

It's been two weeks, albeit part time, back at work. I'm exhausted. It's been really tough transitioning from home life to work. Trying to get myself ready, LadyBug ready, the house at least approachable for whomever will be watching the babe...it's tough! And that's just the morning. Because BigB is up at 4:30 and out the door before I even get up, its all up to me. By the time I get to work, I'm already frazzled.

Trying to pump three times a day just adds to the stress. Squeezing (no pun intended) time in to sequester myself in the lactation room (really just a cinderblock, windowless, storage closet that smells like mildew), is impossible.

Then, when I finally get home, LadyBug is cranky from not getting any good naps, and there are no smiles left for me. I'm emotionally and physically spent. I wish I had something witty and funny to say, but its a drag. I know its just going to get worse when I got back full time.

End pity party.

We're going to the M's game tonight - we're takin' on the Yankees (boooo!). Looking forward to some great brawts & beers. Tomorrow is the Boat Afloat show (drooling over yachts), and painting the laundry room.

A day in the life...