Garrett's Birth Story

(Note: This post is entirely about Garrett's labor and delivery. And it may be a little detailed at times. If that's weird to you, then you should probably stop reading now.)

Well, Garrett didn't exactly have the dramatic weather to make his appearance in like William did, but he certainly found another way to make his arrival a memorable one. Thursday morning (the 19th), Darrell and I went in for my weekly OB check-up. At this point I was two weeks overdue based on the due date calculated by my ultrasound, and twelve days overdue based on the due date calculated by my last menstrual cycle (although I was only five days overdue based on the somewhat arbitrary date of February 14th that my OB kept referring to). During my exam my OB shared that I was dilated to 3 cm (major progress from the previous week!) and that he stripped my membranes to help "speed things along", but he still wanted to move forward with scheduling an induction just to be safe. So he suggested we schedule one for the following morning. Darrell and I were majorly caught off guard, but, like always, trusted his judgement. So it was decided that we would arrive at the hospital at 9 am on Friday the 20th and get this baby out.

Since William was at a friend's house for the day, I spent the rest of the afternoon running some errands (aka walking around as much as possible) and mentally preparing myself to have a baby the next day. We went about our evening as normally as possible--dinner at 515, playtime until 7, bath and bedtime (for William) by 8. Shortly after seven I started noticing what I thought were contractions, but they were very intermittent, so I wasn't concerned. By 830, I was certain that I was having contractions, and downloaded an app to start tracking them. Even though they were still pretty spaced out, Darrell and I decided that the best course of action would be to take William to my parent's house, just in case the contractions intensified overnight (funny side note--I had actually suggested taking William to my parents for the night as soon as we found out about the induction so we didn't have to worry about getting him there in the morning, but Darrell thought it would be nice to put William to bed just the two of us one last time and I agreed). So we finished packing William's stuff for the next few days and Darrell left around nine to take him to my parents.

By the time Darrell left my contractions were close to five minutes apart. The "golden rule" from my doctor was to come in after contractions were five minutes apart for an hour. Since it seemed that we might actually reach that mark before my scheduled induction, I decided to finish getting our stuff packed while Darrell was gone so we could get it loaded in the car that night. When Darrell got home around 930, my contractions were averaging three to four minutes apart and getting fairly intense. We debated how long we should wait before going in--after all, I'd only been having contractions for an hour or two--but we figured that even if we arrived at the hospital and I wasn't fully in active labor they would probably still admit me since I had an induction scheduled for the following morning. And besides--by this point I was getting pretty ready for my epidural.

So around 1000 we headed to the hospital. Since it was after "normal" hours, our options at the hospital were to either go in through the ER or park in the parking ramp and use the skywalks to get to Labor and Delivery. Darrell is pretty familiar with the hospital campus, and since "baby wasn't coming out this minute" (ha! little did we know...) he decided that we didn't need to bother with going through the ER. So we parked in the ramp and made our way to L&D (side note--wheelchairs are not very comfortable to labor in. I almost wish I had walked. Almost). We got to L&D around 1015 and as we expected, once they realized I was the induction they had scheduled for Friday morning, they skipped the triage piece of things and took me straight to a room. I started asking for the epidural almost immediately, but they wanted to get my IV and the fetal monitor started first. Once they had me situated they checked to see how progressed I was, and one of the last clear memories I have is of the nurse telling me that I was 9 cm dilated and that I was going to have to get this baby out all on my own.

Darrell tells me that as soon as the announcement was made that I was already at 9 cm the room took off in a flurry of activity. They brought in the resident OB, and when he checked me again at 1030 I was fully dilated with a "bulging bag of waters". Apparently at one point the nurse (who--for the record--was great) was asking about the pain and if I was having any dizziness/blurred vision, to which I responded no. Darrell called me out on my answer, telling me that I had to actually open my eyes before I could answer a question about my vision. I'm pretty sure that was the first time I opened my eyes since the nurse told me I was 9 cm and not getting an epidural--and I don't think I opened them again until Garrett was born.

My OB made it to the hospital by 1045 (and dressed for the occasion in suit and tie--the nurses apparently joke that he must sleep in dress clothes because regardless of the time of day or night that's always what he shows up in for a delivery), and promptly broke my water (which apparently had some meconium in it, but thankfully Garrett didn't need any breathing assistance or time in the NICU from potentially aspirating on it during delivery). I'd been given the green light to start pushing prior to that--the resident stayed in the room and they had the on-call OB available at a moment's notice--but until my water was broken I never really had the urge to push (or if I did I was too blinded by the pain to care). But once they broke my water it was all hands on deck and I was basically ordered to start pushing with the contractions. Darrell tells me that I pretty much sucked at pushing through the first few contractions, but with some help from him and the nurse I calmed down (slightly), managed to take a few deep breaths, and delivered Garrett at 10:56 PM--a mere 36 minutes after being admitted.

I'd love to say all sorts of great and wonderful things about my natural labor and delivery, but Darrell would totally call me a liar. I was (apparently) using plenty of language my mother would not approve of (and rather loudly, as well), and I know that I resorted to begging for an epidural on more than one occasion (as well as asking my OB to just "pull" the baby out). However, I do feel a certain amount of pride for having made it through the ordeal (not that I really had a choice...), and can honestly say that my recovery has been pretty much a breeze. Given the choice, though, would I do the natural delivery again? Hard to say. I guess time will tell if/when we decide to add another child to our clan. For now, we're perfectly happy with our two boys--dramatic arrivals and everything.

Here at Last!

Well, it took the threat of an induction to make something happen, but Garrett Michael decided to finally make his appearance at 10:56 pm on Thursday, February 19th. He tipped the scales at 9 lbs 11 oz and measured 20 3/4 inches in length.

We're home now and adjusting to life as a family of four--aside from some sleep deprivation and (another) child with an insatiable appetite, things are going pretty well. Stay tuned for Garrett's birth story; it's an exciting one!

Maybe?!?!

Two years ago, on the ninth day of April, we were dealing with the beginning of a massive winter storm. We'd had freezing rain most of the day, and as Darrell was coming home from work the freezing rain was turning into sleet (which would eventually turn into snow). At 7:00 that night, despite being instructed by Darrell to "stay put" for at least 24 hours, William decided to start his entrance into our lives by breaking my water.

Well, it is currently the ninth day of February--the arrival of WEBS is certainly near--and look what the weatherman has on tap for tonight:

Sure, it isn't nearly as ominous of a storm as we had with William, and quite frankly, it might miss us altogether, but still... Maybe?!? Could this be the trigger WEBS needs?

Mama's Ready!!

Sweet little babe, whenever you (finally) decide to make your appearance, Mama is all ready to bring you home from the hospital.

The fridge is stocked:

The wine rack is full:

And the liquor cabinet is ready and waiting:

Let's get this "family of four" show on the road!


Disclaimer: With the exception of the beer, pretty much all of that booze has been in our house since before we found out we were pregnant. Shockingly, we I haven't been doing much drinking in the past nine months. And since I will be breastfeeding, I still won't be able to indulge that much even once we get home with WEBS. But some is better than none, right? And this way I have my bases covered--who knows what Mama will be in the mood for after (what will likely be) crazy days wrangling two small children.

A Day in the Life

So I've seen lots of other people do posts like this and have always thought that it would be fun to document what a "typical" day looks like for us. And since WEBS will be here shortly I figured I should do one sooner than later so I can look back on this in a few months and realize just how easy I had it with only one kiddo :-)  So, just for fun, here's what our day on Friday looked like. And I apologize for the lack of pictures; it didn't dawn on me until halfway through the day to document with some photos, and even then I still forgot to take pictures for most things.

(For the record, "typical" is used very loosely, especially while I've been pregnant. This particular day happened to be a pretty good energy wise, so I was able to be fairly productive. That certainly has not been the case every day. Also--be warned that this post is super long. As Darrell will attest, I tend to be long winded and don't always know how to tell the "short" version of things #sorrynotsorry)

5:00--Nature calls. Considering this is the first time I've been up all night, I'm not too upset.
6:30--Alarm is off to start the morning. I need some alone time in the morning to casually eat my breakfast, putz around online, and just enjoy some peace and quiet before embracing the day. Darrell has usually left for work by this point too, so I truly get the house to myself. And I relish these morning minutes.
7:00--Since William is still sleeping, I decide to finish getting dinner prepped. We're having crockpot chicken noodle soup and I chopped all the vegetables last night, so all I need to do this morning is trim the chicken and dump all the ingredients into the crockpot (my favorite kind of meal!)
7:30--William starts to stir, but I don't get him until closer to 7:40. I'm trying to get him used to the idea that Mommy won't always be able to respond to him immediately. William is being particularly lazy this morning, so it takes awhile to get him changed and ready for the day
8:20--William is ready for breakfast. Today it's yogurt, blueberries, and Cheerios
8:45--William (finally) finishes breakfast and goes to play with his toys while I get ready for the day. I have a doctor's appointment, so I actually take a little bit of time to get presentable
9:00--I'm ready for the day and William is still playing contentedly, so I take advantage of the opportunity to pay some bills and tidy some stuff up in the kitchen
9:25--I need to leave for my appointment soon, so I check William's diaper before I go, and end up having to change it. Teething (or something) has really been messing with his bowels lately--not fun.
9:35--My mom shows up to watch William so I can go to my appointment
10:00--In and out at my doctor's appointment in less than ten minutes (have I mentioned how much I love my OB/GYN?). I take advantage of the free babysitting and run a quick errand on the way home
10:30--I get home and William immediately decides he needs to eat, because of course he didn't want to take a break from playing with Grandma to have his morning snack. Since it's so close to lunch I give him just a banana and hope that will keep him content for awhile. It doesn't. By 10:50 he is demanding more food, and even though it's 30 minutes before he usually eats, I relent and give him lunch. Today he is having leftover Panko Pork and potatoes, and his favorite part is the dipping sauce. He is a very delicate dipper, so it takes him awhile to eat lunch (plus Mr. Clean needs his hands wiped after every third or fourth bite; dipping is messy, after all). He wants more to eat after finishing up his leftovers, so I give him some cheese to keep him satisfied while I steam up some peas (peas = candy to William. He's weird).

Such patience and concentration while dipping!

11:30--William is finally done with lunch. We sit down to play together, which is short-lived because William decides he'd rather read stories by himself instead of playing with me. I take advantage of the opportunity to rest on the couch for a few minutes
12:00--William brings me a story to read. As I help him onto my lap, I stick my hand into a slimy wet spot on his pants. Diaper blowout--swell.
12:15--Blowout has been cleaned up, outfit has been changed. I locate the spot he was sitting when it happened, and it appears a book absorbed most of the blow. While his clothing will be salvageable, I can't say the same for the book
12:30--Nap time. We read a few stories, say our prayers, and down he goes
12:45--I eat my lunch, leftover tater tot casserole and a clementine. I've learned that it's easiest to eat my lunch while William is napping because A) I can finish it before it gets cold and B) William typically gets very unhappy if I am feeding him something different from what he is eating (regardless of how much he may like what his food option is)

Since I try to limit screen time while William is awake, I usually spend most of nap time doing stuff online. Most days I just end up putzing around on Facebook, blogs, and Craigslist, but today I'm also shopping for a new winter hat for William (Mr. Big Head is going to outgrow the one he has before the weather warms up) and trying to find a few recipes for Super Bowl Sunday. I also get a few chores done--emptying the dishwasher and taking out his diaper genie trash--because I don't want to do those while he is awake (our dishwasher is super old and gross and rusty and I don't like him playing in it. And it is tantrum central in this house if you try to go outside without him, especially since we've had a few nice days lately and he has been reminded how fun outside is).

2:30--William starts pounding on his door to let me know naptime is over. After another diaper change, we're good to go
2:45--William has a clementine for a snack
3:00--I consider heading to the library, but laziness wins out, especially since William is playing well with his toys and doesn't seem to need the change of scenery. I try to get a few more things cleaned up and put away around the house
3:15--William decides he needs more to eat. It's still two hours until dinner, so we pull out some Ritz crackers and peanut butter. I break open my jar of Jif Salted Caramel Hazelnut spread--have you seen this stuff? It's amazing
3:45--More play time. He plays with me for a little bit, but then wanders off on his own again. I don't force the issue; he's going to need to be able to play independently once WEBS arrives
4:30--Best time of day: Daddy gets home! William immediately wants to play with him and fusses until Darrell gets his clothes changed (this happens Every.Day.). I enjoy watching them play for a bit and then finish up stuff for dinner
5:20--Dinner time!
5:45--William is done eating, which usually means that it's time for Darrell to be done eating too (can you tell he's a daddy's boy much?). They play while I clean up and put away leftovers
6:00--I decide that since it was pretty evident from my doctor's appointment that baby won't be coming this weekend (or probably any time in the next week) that I deserve some homemade cinnamon rolls. We tried a new recipe over Christmas that was insanely good and I've been dying to make it again
6:15--I finish up the first step of the rolls and play with my boys (and try to squeeze in a little adult conversation with Darrell) while they proof
6:45--Time for the next step of my rolls, which basically just means measuring flour and letting my mixer do all the kneading (love my mixer!)
7:15--It's almost bath time for William, so we start cleaning up his toys. He decides to be cooperative and help out tonight, so it goes pretty quickly
7:20--I supervise bath time while Darrell works out

This is William's new "surprised" face. Not sure where he picked it up, but it's adorable

7:45--Darrell comes to get William out of the tub (way easier for him than me at this point). Time for pajamas, teeth brushing, stories, and prayers
8:00--William is down for the night. I change into workout clothes to do some yoga
9:15--I finish up my yoga (I love my DVD and the way I feel when I'm done, but it's definitely a time investment). The cinnamon rolls are ready to be rolled out and filled with cinnamon sugar deliciousness
9:45--Cinnamon rolls are done and in the fridge. I do a little bit of cleanup, but decide to leave most of it for tomorrow

A little time-consuming, but seriously the best cinnamon roll recipe I've tried

10:00--WEBS decides that we need a bedtime snack. I bat my eyes sweetly at Darrell and convince him to make a batch of smoothies (a tall order considering he is digging through the pantry to find a snack for himself)
10:15--We cuddle up in bed with our smoothies to watch an episode of "House" on Netflix
11:00--Show is over, so we brush teeth and head to bed. It's a little later than I like bedtime to be, but hey, that's what weekends are for, right?

Congrats! You made it to the end of our day. Just imagine how long one of these posts will be if I ever do one with two kids!!

Bringing Home Baby...

It won't be long now and we'll be expanding to a family of four! And of course, the question that I am most impatiently waiting for the answer to is: Which outfit will baby be coming home in?? (Please forgive the quality of the pictures. iPhone + poor lighting + lazy 8-month pregnant Mom = terrible photos.)

This super sweet gem (with coordinating hair bow, of course):

Or this dapper little set:

And I seriously think baby boy's outfit needs this final touch, but I can't quite bring myself to pull the trigger on it:

How adorable is that jacket? And if I bought it in the 0-3 month size I'm sure baby would get plenty of use out of it, even if he is born as large as William was. But the outfit itself was already more than we typically spend on baby clothes... And I have such a hard time paying full price for something that's going to get spit up (and possibly pooped) on... But still. Quite possibly the cutest jacket ever. For a boy at least--I'm equally swooning over the pink jacket that comes with baby girl's outfit. Granted, I'm not a huge fan of pink, but I suppose it wouldn't be the end of the world for baby girl to have a few pops of pink in her wardrobe--balanced out with plenty of greens and yellows and purples, of course.

Mama's getting anxious baby--please come soon!!

Bump Update!

So finally, at long last, some much overdue pictures of my belly. Not that they are by any means glamorous, but they're interesting to look at from a comparison/look-how-huge-I-am standpoint.

28 weeks

31 weeks

35 weeks

38 weeks

In addition to doing a poor job of documenting my bump progression, I also haven't really shared that much about this pregnancy period. Truthfully, though, there hasn't been much to share. I honestly feel like I could link back to my pregnancy posts with William and everything would be pretty much the same. I have found myself trying to "force" some differences, primarily in my size and the way I'm carrying (maybe because I'm subconsciously hoping that a different pregnancy progression will equal a different sex at birth), but the pictures seem to prove otherwise. So even though I feel like I am massively larger than I ever was with William and even though I feel like my belly is sitting way lower (making things like keeping my legs together while sitting nearly impossible!), in reality, that doesn't seem to be the case. Here's the proof:



38 weeks with WEBS

38 weeks with William

I know the zoom on the pictures isn't quite the same (and I'm too lazy to do anything about it) plus the shirts fit a little differently, but it's pretty evident that pregnant me now and pregnant me then are pretty much the same. Despite the fact that I've tried to convince myself otherwise. And I suppose that's an okay thing--while certainly not enjoyable (although I don't think it ever really could be), labor and delivery with William went just fine and it is certainly an experience I'd be okay with repeating. And I guess in a few short weeks we'll find out whether or not that will be the case!

 

Oh, one kind of fun thing I am curious to hear about during delivery? How much hair this baby has (because yes, my doctor will probably comment on that while I am delivering, like he did with William. Apparently it was supposed to help motivate me to know that baby was on his way with a full head of dark hair. Needless to say, at that point, I didn't really care). According to the wives' tales, lots of heartburn means lots of hair. With William I had pretty much zero heartburn, and he was born with a full head of hair. This pregnancy, especially the past few weeks, I've definitely had a fair amount of heartburn (although nothing terrible, thankfully). So I wonder if that will mean no hair for this babe? (And in my family, it tends to be the girls who are born without hair--my sister was pretty much bald until two. So maybe that's another tally favoring a girl this time around? We shall see!!)

Cruel, Cruel, Fate

So I try really hard not to complain about my pregnancy (Darrell is doubled over in laughter at that statement--I give him the full brunt of my complaining since I avoid doing it publicly), but I've officially decided that one of the cruelest and worst things that can happen to a (VERY) pregnant lady is to get a cold. As if my lungs weren't already running out of room making it difficult for me to take deep breaths, now I can't take deep breaths even if I try because of all this lovely congestion. Plus thanks to dear little parasite in my belly, there isn't a whole lot I can take for said congestion. Joy.

But. At least I was able to get a reasonably decent night's sleep last night. We'll refrain from discussing how many pillows that required. And at least this is all I really have to complain about. I may be mopey and annoyed right now, but I still have the ability to recognize that I am fortunate to have been blessed with two remarkably uneventful pregnancies. And if the least of my worries is getting a cold while 8.5 months pregnant, well, I suppose I can suck it up and deal with it. But only after I throw myself a little pity party first.

WEBS is a....

It's only a matter of weeks (hopefully!!) before this little peanut makes his/her arrival, so I figured it was high time for me to revisit so of the old wive's tales and see what gender they are predicting WEBS to be. And for comparison, I'm going to note where things stood with William on the same wive's tales (because you best believe quite a few of them were wrong!)

--Like my pregnancy with William, the gender predictor on everydayfamily.com is predicting another girl. Clearly they were wrong the first time... Second time's a charm?

--The slowest baby's heartbeat has been is 148 bpm (and that was at my most recent appointment when baby was sleeping). Supposedly anything over 140 bpm is indicative of a girl, but William also consistently had heartbeats in the 160s.

--I have had WAY less acne this time around. Like, amazingly so. According to the wive's tales, the presence of acne would indicate a girl, but that was definitely not the case with William and the crazy acne I had during his pregnancy (although he did get wonderfully long and feminine eyelashes). Maybe for me that absence of acne means it is a girl?? Time will tell...

--According to the Mayans, if the mother's age at conception and year of conception are both odd or both even, the baby with be a girl. That was the case during William's pregnancy--and clearly wrong (as the Mayans have been about so many other things). Again, the Mayans would be predicting a girl based on their method; would it really be that surprising if they were wrong yet again?

--Sweet vs salty?? This is a tough one for me. Having a sweet tooth is not a new phenomenon for me, so it's hard to gauge how much of that is pregnancy-induced (although for both pregnancies I've occasionally favored non-chocolate sweets like sour gummy worms and Skittles, which isn't super common for me). The most unusual thing this time around has been that I find myself wanting nuts in my sweets, which is usually a big no-no in my book (Seriously. Brownies with nuts should not be allowed to exist). But my new favorite Blizzard flavors? They have pecans a-plenty. So maybe that's a nod to my craving salty foods? Hard to say. I think with William I said I was craving sweets, which is supposed to mean a girl is on the way. I'd be inclined to say the same this time, although possibly a little more salty than normal, so who knows what that means.

--The Chinese Gender Chart correctly predicted William to be a boy; this time around it is calling for girl. I'd honestly be a little impressed to go two for two on something like this!

--Although I was a little more tired in my first trimester than I was with William, I still never had any actual morning sickness. And since I chalk the tiredness up to the fact that I had a one-year old to chase around, I'm going to say that no morning sickness equals boy, just like it did for William.

--Even though my "shape" is significantly different as compared to my pregnancy with William (hopefully I'll get some pictures up soon to prove it!), I'm still carrying very much out in front--and low, especially as of late. This would seem to indicate another boy is on board.

As far as "mother's instinct" and all that jazz, I really don't think I ever had any strong feelings one way or the other during my first pregnancy. Darrell had himself convinced William was going to be a girl and I was constantly reminding him that it was just as likely that it would be a boy, but there were no gut feelings in play during those conversations. This time, from fairly early on, I've felt like it was going to be a girl, but anytime I've had a dream about the baby it's always been a boy. So who knows what that means. Darrell is pretty certain we're having another boy... So who knows.

Oh, and I suppose one other "fun" comparison--during our first pregnancy, we had a boy's name picked out and solidified pretty early on. However, we never had a girl's name finalized. While we are still working out some naming logistics and combinations for WEBS, I would definitely say we are much more in agreement on our girl's name than our boy's name (ironically--it's a completely different name than the girl names we were considering the first time around). So maybe on some subconscious level we both know the girl's name is more important?

Overall consensus? Don't have a clue. And since so many of the wive's tales were wrong with William, it's impossible to predict whether or not they are more likely to be right this time around. However, once we have two babies in the books, I'll have a better data pool to reference for any future babies that may come our way... Because I'm a science nerd like that.

Love/Hate

I officially have a love/hate relationship with our healthcare system and my OB.

I love that we can now access our patient information via an online health portal. I can see the doctor's notes from recent visits, I can view my vital information that was collected, I can review upcoming appointments, and I can even send messages to my healthcare team (and get pretty prompt responses!). And I'm pretty sure I said this during my pregnancy with William, but I love that my OB is super laid back and doesn't get his (or my!) panties in a bunch over little things. For example, even though he did all the routine cervical checks during the end of my first pregnancy, he never made a point to tell me if (or how much) I was dilated, because he knows from his 30+ years of experience that very rarely is that information indicative on when or how soon labor will begin. My appointments are typically less than ten minutes--get in, get weighed, pee in a cup, check blood pressure, check baby's heart rate, measure the belly, get out. (And yes--I am fully aware that I've been lucky to have two pretty textbook pregnancies which have allowed for quick routine visits.)

However. I am learning that this combination of laid-back OB and online patient information creates a little problem that I hate. Because you see--all of the stuff that my doctor doesn't bring up in our appointments still gets recorded in my chart. So even though he may not tell me the unremarkable and/or unimportant information, he'll still record it, which means it will show up online for my viewing pleasure. Which is how I will discover that at my 33 week appointment baby was presenting in a breech position. Ummm.... What?!? That's a little too close to my due date for me to be comfortable with baby being in a breech position. As Darrell has assured me, though, if my OB were concerned about it and thought that it would present an issue for labor and delivery, he would have said something. Because he didn't, it means that he has confidence that the problem has plenty of time to work itself out and there is no reason to get worked up about it at this point. But still. Breech?!? Not a fan. Good thing I have my next appointment later this week. You'd better believe that if my doctor doesn't say anything about the baby's position during the appointment that I'm going to be (very) impatiently waiting for him to upload his record of my visit so I can see what he put in his notes--good bad or otherwise. You'd better also believe that if I start to freak out about this just a little bit more that Darrell will probably try to lock me out of my online patient portal for the remainder of this pregnancy. Because I'm sure the amount of speculation and concern will only increase as my doctor begins his cervical checks.


For the record, I have nothing but respect for my OB and I trust his judgment 100%. If he chooses not to tell me that my blood pressure is slightly low (which it has been throughout both pregnancies), that baby is presenting breech, that I'm already dilated, etc, I can (rationally) trust that they are not concerns at the given time. I also feel perfectly comfortable around my OB and would have no issue asking him for the information directly, even though I (rationally) know that if it were medically relevant he would tell me up front--and the fact that he isn't telling me means that it isn't an issue. However, I am pregnant, I am hormonal, and I am prone to bouts of irrationality. So I am going to be just a little bit freaked out that baby was breech ten days ago--and that if that trend continues it may mean that we'd be meeting baby a little sooner than we'd anticipated. Gulp.

Breaking Baby 2.0 News to Darrell

So this post is only, oh, four months overdue? Whoops. WEBS might as well get used to that--don't things for the second children frequently get overlooked? And as if this post hasn't been "overlooked" enough, WEBS is being subjected to another common "complaint" of second children: nothing they do receives the same type of fanfare as the oldest because it isn't "new". That was definitely the case for my baby reveal to Darrell this time around. If you remember back to when I told Darrell I was pregnant with William, I spent an entire day creating an elaborate scavenger hunt, complete with Suduku puzzles, an alpha-numeric key, and multiple gift cards. This time, I drove to one store (because obviously I had William with me and wasn't about to schlep him around town on multiple errands), found a card that pretty well got the point across (yay for getting the positive pregnancy test close to Father's Day!), and called it good.

I tried to get William to decorate the envelope, but he clearly knew that this was not news he was excited about because he lost interest in the coloring very quickly. Darrell didn't quite pick up on the "we" right away; he thought it was referring to me and William, not William and a second child. And even when he did make the connection, it was an anti-climatic celebration (in fact, "celebration" is quite a stretch. We hugged, we kissed, and that was about that. Although we did go out to Target later and bought WEBS a blanket, much like we did after we found out we were pregnant with William. So maybe that will be our "thing" for each new baby). Welcome to the family WEBS--we still love you plenty but just don't have the time or energy to get quite as excited about things with you as we did with William. It's the curse of the second child--and if we end up having another kid you'll really be cursing your luck then because you'll have all the plights of the middle child to deal with.

Mom Confession

Fact: My son is a better eater than I am. Probably because he doesn't quite have the element of choice that I do--he's pretty much limited to eating the food I put in front of him--but still. I intentionally make an effort to offer him healthy choices and a wide variety of fruits and veggies, but then don't really follow through myself (even though most of the time it would be super easy to). For example: Breakfast. I always have a bowl of cereal. Always. Even on days we have pancakes or something I usually end up sneaking a bowl sometime mid-morning. And while I'm not eating the super sugary stuff like Lucky Charms (although I totally would), it's still cereal. Pretty much just carbohydrates and milk. William, however, has a bowl of yogurt with fresh fruit, sometimes served with crushed cereal on top, sometimes served with an egg, sometimes served with a slice a bread. Just depends on what we have--and how hungry he is. And when he is inevitably hungry again by 9:30, I usually offer him more fresh fruit (and typically something different than what he had for breakfast) or string cheese or raisins and Cheerios if pickings are really slim. I, however, usually don't join him in that "healthy" snack, because I have typically spent most of the morning grazing on whatever goodies we have in the house--Oreos, gummy worms, goldfish crackers, even spoonfuls of Nutella straight out of the jar if I'm really desparate and we have no other snacks left in the house. I know that I'm growing another child and I know that I should probably better regulate what I'm feeding him/her, but at least I do a good job of offering William healthy options (at least most of the time). That counts for something, right?

For Comparison...

20 weeks with WEBS on the left, 20 weeks with BOB (William) on the right. Just a little bit of difference!

And I apologize for the ridiculously poor quality of the image, but if I were to wait for Darrell to do something fancy and stitch the images together all professional-like, it'd probably never get done. So take what you get--it's more than enough to see how much bigger I am this time around (and that's not even a recent picture; I was twenty weeks almost three weeks ago!).

It's a.... Baby!!

I'm sure you are all just dying to see pictures of me in all my pregnant glory, but if there's one thing I've learned with William it's that Baby is always more important than Mommy. And since I have pictures of WEBS (William Edsell's Baby Sibling), I figured I should share those first. But don't worry--eventually I'll get my pregnancy photos up--all ten+ weeks of them. Maybe I'll even pull out some from William's pregnancy to compare!

Kind of hard to tell, but that's both feet side by side. According to the ultrasound technician, though, baby didn't keep his/her feet together for very much of the ultrasound--whenever the technician was in the area (and Darrell and I had our eyes closed), baby had his/her legs spread open wide. Apparently finding out the sex would not have been a difficult task

"Hi Mom!"

Looking just like Big Brother William with a hand up by the face

The Craving Monster

(written July 9th)

It's officially happened. I've had a craving. A "I must eat those now or I will quite possibly be sick" craving. When I was pregnant with William I never really had any major cravings. I had foods that sounded good (and definitely foods that sounded bad), but nothing insatiable. The closest I think I ever came was wanting a Butterfinger one time--but that was mostly because I saw one, realized I hadn't had one in forever, and decided it sounded good (and when I mentioned that in an email to Darrell, he picked on up for me on his way home). But tonight? Tonight was different. It started the same as the Butterfinger story--I was reading an online article that casually mentioned a particular food item (that I probably haven't eaten for close to ten years), and I thought to myself "That sounds delicious". Then, when I read the article a second time (it was pretty funny so I read it out loud to Darrell), I got to the same reference and immediately had the food item ingrained in my brain. Ingrained in a "I may not be able to go to sleep tonight until I get that food in my belly" kind of way. So, at 9:00 at night, what did Darrell do? Head to the nearest DQ to fulfill my craving. Which--for the record--wasn't for ice cream (although the article DID mention ice cream). No, I sent my husband to Dairy Queen--less than an hour before bedtime--for a chili cheese dog. Yes. A totally unhealthy, probably super terrible for you chili cheese dog. And I can barely wait for him to get home. I may or may not have pulled up a picture from Dairy Queen's website to temporarily stave the monster off.

Update: Chili cheese dog has been consumed. And it was FANTASTIC. I probably could have eaten four more.

Update 2.0: So I've constantly been playing the comparison game between this pregnancy and my pregnancy with William, thinking that somehow I will be able to rationally deduce the sex based on the similarities and/or differences between the pregnancies. I was all set to chalk this craving up to a "difference" (and ergo a tally in the WEBS is a girl column), but then I remembered something. My grandpa died when I was about four months pregnant with William, and after the visitation a lot of the family went to the local bar to get some food and drinks. Since it was fairly late, most everyone just ordered an appetizer or two to share. Me? I ordered myself a Chili Cheese Burger (exactly what it sounds like--a cheese burger topped with chili) and polished the whole thing off. And it was delicious. Which I guess means that this craving is probably more of a similarity than a difference.... Chalk one up for WEBS being a boy. (Oh, by the way: WEBS=William Edsell's Baby Sibling).

Update 3.0: I've officially had more chili cheese dogs in this pregnancy than I've had in the last fifteen years combined. We're only talking like four or five, but considering I never used to eat them it's definitely a change. And I could definitely go for one again. Mmmm......