In The Space Of A Year

Saturday, August 31st, 2008

The first football game of Virginia Tech's 2008 season was scheduled to be played that afternoon in Charlotte, North Carolina. McMoose and I, in an attempt to start the season on the right foot, decided to go.

Over the course of the past three months, I had taken more pregnancy tests than I care to admit because I wanted a baby and I was impatient and waking up ridiculously early to take those tests gave me something to do, something to write on my calendar, something to look forward to. Each time another one came back negative, I swore to myself that I would NOT take another one until the next month...and then, 2 days later, I'd be setting my alarm 30 minutes early again. (No, it does not take 30 minutes to take a pregnancy test. But it DOES take 30 minutes to sit on the couch and mope when they come back negative.)

That August, I had already taken three tests and watched them all come back with one line instead of two. The last of those three was so late into the month that it should have been absolutely conclusive. But after the game, we were going to a party at a friend's apartment, and being familiar with the tone at VT football games and after-parties and my group of friends, I knew the alcohol would be free flowing.

So I decided that just to be sure, just for my own peace of mind, I should take a final test that morning.

It's going to be negative, you know, said the voice in my head.

I know, I replied.

So don't take it, said the voice.

I have to.

Why?

Because...what if it's not negative?

The alarm went off at 5 in the morning because I was so dead certain that it would be negative that I just wanted to get it over with and go back to bed for an hour, so that I could start the day off on an excited note, rather than a disappointed one. I stumbled into the bathroom, assembled the test, searched around for my glasses and peered blearily at the display on the test. There was the test line, as always. And then, there was a second line. Ever so faint. Almost not there. But getting stronger by the second.

A second line? A? Second? Line? Quick, grab another test!

So I reached back into the drawer...and came out empty handed. I had just used MY LAST TEST. And there was a SECOND LINE. Obviously, it was a mistake. Someone at the factory had messed up, clearly, because there was NO WAY that second line was for real.

I rushed around like a blind fool, getting dressed and then waking McMoose to say something about how I had to go to the pharmacy RIGHT NOW. His eyes opened instantly--a first for someone who frequently takes over an hour to wake up.

Is it...positive?

I don't know, maybe it's wrong, but I have to go to the pharmacy.

And then, I was driving around town in the dark, the only car on the road, trying to find a pharmacy that was open at that time of morning. 45 minutes later, I found myself standing outside a Wal-Mart, waiting for it to open. Rushing in, buying two different brands with 2 tests each, rushing back home. Re-testing and watching as ALL FOUR of the new tests turned positive.

I don't remember a single thing from that game.

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Monday, August 31st, 2009

I was woken up this morning by my almost-4-month-old, who was grousing and kicking, unable to stay asleep, but unwilling to be happy about waking up.

Look, Bug, I said, using the nickname I had coined for him during my pregnancy, either go back to sleep or wake up with a smile.

He chose the second option and we started our morning routine: breakfast for him, a shower for me, a diaper change for him, breakfast for me. My calendar now says things like Playdate and Pediatrician visit and Baby Yoga. There's a pacifier on my coffee table. There's a crib in my bedroom. There's a baby sleeping on my lap who, 365 days ago, was just a second line on a pregnancy test.

Newborn Fears

At the meeting last Friday, there was a mom with a three week old, and I know that everyone says this, but I'm going to jump right onto the cliche bandwagon and admit it: I absolutely canNOT remember Luke being that little. Well...no, it's not the smallness that seems so strange to me because I know that at 3 weeks old, Luke was a good pound smaller than this other baby, but I really can't remember him ever being so...sleepy. Or floppy. Or just generally newborn-like in nature.

One of the reasons I so feared a newborn was because of their floppiness. I'd had plenty of experience with babies who were over 6 weeks old, but for the first 6 weeks, I expected to be a complete mess. And then, Luke came out and on day 3, I was able to sit him on my lap, the way I used to do with the 6-week-olds and he looked around and had some semblance of head control and I figured that hey, maybe 3-day-olds and 6-week-olds weren't all that different after all.

And then, I met this other baby, who had all the head control of, say, a rag doll and I'm terrified of newborns all over again. Of course, this other baby also slept in his mom's arms like an angel the entire time, which is another thing that was completely unfamiliar to me because the thing that stands out the most for the first two months of Luke's like was the non-stop screaming. But given the choice, I think I'd go with the non-floppy screamer again because at least I know I can handle that. Of course, I'm NOT being given the choice and the next time around (in the very DISTANT future), I'll probably end up with the angelic rag doll.

Meeting Crashers

Sometimes, drama just seems to walk around until it finds me...

Luke and I went to our La Leche group this afternoon and we were having a lovely time, talking to the other moms, watching the other babies, snacking on some chips, when this new woman walks in with her baby. Now, considering that this was a breastfeeding group, it was natural to assume that this mom was nursing her baby, yes? Well...apparently not...

Lactation consultant: Welcome to the group!
New mom: Oh, thanks!
LC: Would you like to introduce yourself?
NM: Sure! I'm Jenny and this is Gabby; she's seven months old.
LC: Great! We've been talking about some of the issues people have been having this week...is there anything you'd like to bring to the table?
NM: Mm....well, it's really hard to get her to finish her bottles because all she wants to do is crawl around.
LC: Her bottles...at daycare?
NM: No, at home.
LC: Oh, are you pumping?
NM: Uh...no...
LC: Oh, are you supplementing with formula?
NM: I'm not supplementing with formula, I'm FEEDING formula.
LC: Oh...ah...this is actually a breastfeeding group...
NM: Ugh! I would never do that! I mean, I understand that people have choices, but I hate seeing women doing *that.*

At this point, there were at least three women in that room (myself included) who were doing *that* and nursing their babies. And this ridiculous woman gave each of us a mean and nasty look, after having crashed OUR meeting. So...did we get embarrassed? Did we grab blankets and throw them over our babies' heads? Or...did we do just the opposite and allow just a little bit extra skin to show?

(If you know me AT ALL, you won't need me to answer those questions for you)

Selling Him To The Circus

The Dog and I have had our share of disagreements today. We started like this:

Dog: I think I'd like to eat now.
Me: Huh? Didn't McMoose feed you?
Dog: McMoose NEVER feeds me.
Me: McMoose ALWAYS feeds you.
Dog: He lies. I'd like to eat now.
Me: Hm. No.
Dog: Fine. *Lopes off into baby's room*

10 minutes later, he reappears.

Me: There's something different about you.
Dog: No, there isn't.
Me: There definitely is. Hey! What's that white stuff hanging out of your mouth?
Dog: What white stuff?
Me: THIS white stuff...with the torn off Pampers logo!
Dog: Huh.
Me: Dog?
Dog: Huh?
Me: Did you eat a Pampers diaper?
Dog: No....
Me: Where did you even FIND a disposable diaper?
Dog: Um...
Me: *Go to baby's room, find remains of (unused), half-eaten diaper, throw in trash.*

10 minutes later...

Dog: Ugh
Me: What now?
Dog: ...I don't feel so good...

Apparently, the stuff in the diaper that turns into gel when the diaper is wet also turns into gel in other wet environments. For example, Dog's stomach. And also? The gel acts as an emetic.

Our Week in Bullets

We've had a big week around here, with lots of activities and changes. Here are a few...

• Yellow Cat figured out how to open the laundry room door earlier this summer, which is highly annoying, but lately, I've been finding his toys sitting INSIDE the washing machine. I still don't know how he does that.
• Luke has figured out that hey! He has hands! He can't get them to do exactly what he wants, but he can hug his favorite toy frog and pull off my glasses when I'm feeding him.
• He has also started "laughing." I put that word in quotes because it's not so much a real laugh as an overly theatrical...um...noise that goes "Ahhh...ahhh...ahhh..."
• We've been looking at SUVs again and I think we've finally decided on one. But there were at least 2 other people looking at it too, so who knows if it will still be available when we call later today to make an offer.
• Luke has also figured out how to use his doorway jumper. And by "use," I mean that he spins around in circles and does this odd, little hop that makes him look like a deranged flamingo. And then, he swings wildly around and I come close to having several heart attacks because his head always comes within CENTIMETERS of the door frame.
• We've been doing things every day this week and as a result of that and the fact that my insomnia has returned in full force, I am worn out. I don't think I've mentioned it on here, but when we realized that I was having supply problems and Luke wasn't gaining weight, the most powerful tool in our arsenal was that we started waking up our child, who was sleeping 9-10 hours each night, at 3 in the morning so that he could have an extra, large feeding. It worked, in that we saw weight gain almost immediately, but as a result of that disturbance each night, I now lie awake for about 2-3 extra hours trying to fall back asleep. And by the time I do, it's 6 in the morning and Luke starts stirring at 6:30.
• But! As a wonderful offset to the insomnia is the fact that Luke, who used to eat for an hour at a time, has figured out how to get the same amount of food in 20 minutes. Do you have any idea how much extra time I have on my hands? I actually straightened up the whole house, scrapbooked, sewed, and then got so bored that I rolled all his blankets up and arranged them artfully in a basket. I vacuumed, I kept up on the laundry, I dusted, I baked. Seriously, I don't know what to do with all this time.
  

Germy Encounters

I took Luke in to get a couple of shots today and while we were in the waiting room, I noticed a woman who was clutching her toddler like her life depended on it. The toddler, for his part, was doing his best to wiggle out of her lap. After a few minutes, she moved over next to me and pointed out to her child the fact that Luke was sitting so nicely on my lap. The child was not impressed & continued his quest to go play with the waiting room toys. Naturally, I was very curious about this little interaction, so I eavesdropped (although I'm not sure it can be called eavesdropping since she was sitting all of 18 inches away from me).

Woman: Stay still, Baby. Look, see the little baby? He's staying still.
Toddler: Toys.
Woman: No, no. Look, can you sit with Mama?
Toddler: Toys!
Woman: No, those are dirty. They have germs.
Toddler: Toyyys!
Woman: The toys are dirty, sweetie. They could make you sick.
Toddler: Tooooyyyyyyssss!
Woman: You don't want to be sick, do you? Remember when you had a cold? You couldn't breathe and that wasn't any fun, was it?
Toddler: Toooyyyyssss, Toooyyyysss, Tooooyyyysss!!!

This went on for a while, with the woman's explanations about germs and illness becoming increasingly detailed (at one point, she actually used the term "Mucus membrane") and the toddler's exclamations becoming increasingly...um...insistent. Luke and I soon got called to the exam room, but when we were done, I decided to stop at the restroom before heading home. And because the Universe knows just how much I love a healthy dose of irony, guess who I found swishing his hands around in the toilet water...

The Evils of Juice?

Luke has had a really good nursing day today (thank you, bad-tasting-herbs!), which means that I've had hours and hours of computer time, so I thought it would be fun to just start on CNN's front page and follow links that sounded interesting. As a result of this little game, I now have more knowledge than I ever though possible about animal cruelty, the eating habits of koala bears, and choosing the right houseplant for your family. And also? Did you know that the American Academy of Pediatrics has a Committee that met to discuss the "Use and Misuse of Fruit Juice in Pediatrics?" And also, there were 18 people on the committee, plus "liaisons" from various health-related organizations both in the U.S. and from Canada, as well as "Additional staff." And they came up with 9 conclusions and 9 recommendations. About fruit juice. And one of the conclusions was that "fruit drinks" are not the same as "fruit juice."

And reading all that has now made me really thirsty for some apple juice.