In Full Blum

There's a First Time for Everything

2009-08-22T22:33:00.004-04:00

Today Ian is eight months old. I'm going to stop asking where the time went because it just makes me sad. Tonight, as I fed him his bedtime bottle, he was spilling out over my arms and had his feet dangling off the sides of the glider. I looked down at him, wondering when exactly he got so big. Because one day not-so-long-ago, I was cuddling with him and his tiny toes, all wrapped up in the crooks of my arms. And now, I can barely contain him on my lap. I swear it happens overnight.

But today, another milestone was reached. Ava sat for a photo with Ian. Not only did she sit for a photo with him, but she also gave him hugs and kisses for the camera. And she enjoyed it! Avaloves being in front of the camera. In fact, last night during a really strong thunderstorm, Ava saw the lightning outside and exclaimed, "Cheese!" as if the flashes of light were actually flashes from giant cameras snapping her picture. Stefan and I just laughed with her. So today, when I whipped out the camera to take Ian's monthly birthday picture, Ava immediately started posing and saying, "Cheese!" So I said, "OK then, Ava. You want your picture taken? Why don't you climb up onto the chair next to Ian?" Every month I say the same thing. And every month she runs in the opposite direction screaming, "Nooooooo!" But today, she got right up next to Ian and let me have a field day. She gave Ian hugs. She gave him kisses. Oh it just made my whole day!

Ava gets a giggle out of Ian.

A big hug from big sister.

Too cute.

And finally, a kiss for baby brother.

Ava's Big-Girl Bed

2009-08-02T22:01:00.005-04:00

Last night was Ava's first night in a big-girl bed. It could have and should have happened much sooner than this, but I had the hardest time making it happen. Not because I was sad to see my baby reach another big-girl milestone. But because I have been totally incompetent at making decisions. New furniture or convert the crib to a full bed? Paint the walls or wait until we get new furniture? Themed room or just pretty bedding? Go all out or stick to the budget? White furniture or darker? The list was overwhelming (seriously, people, it doesn't take much these days to tip me over the edge). I just couldn't imagine spending thousands of dollars on children's furniture that will get beat up and outgrown. But on the other hand I really wanted to make a special place for her. I delayed and delayed until it hit me that I had better do something or send my daughter to college in a crib. Stefan assured me we could always do more later. So we converted the crib into the full bed it was designed to be converted into, and I took Ava shopping Friday night for her very first big-girl bedding. She was so excited in the store that she kept yelling, "Look, mommy, it's my big-girl bed!" I was finally getting excited, too, and I suddenly couldn't wait to get her in it.

While Ava watched a movie last evening, Stefan put her bed together and we set everything up. Ava walked upstairs and into her bedroom to find her brand-new bed. She was stoked. And I mean beyond elated. I gave her a bath, brushed her teeth and did our normal evening routine, but my little girl turned into a squirmy worm as the excitement to get into her new bed built. She didn't even want to sit through story time, which has to be one of her most favorite times of the day. She climbed into her bed and we tucked her in. I very sternly laid down the law about not getting up out of bed or jumping around. Beds are for sleeping after all, not for playing. She sweetly said "yes, mommy" to my demands. We sang our usual list of bedtime songs and kissed her goodnight. She was immediately quiet and I said under my breath, "That was too easy." We didn't hear a peep from Ava the rest of the evening. I tucked her in before going to bed myself and was shocked at how well this was turning out. I was so proud of Ava for listening and going to bed like the fabulous little angel she is.

The Before Pictures

At 1:30 a.m., I was awakened by her crying. I ran in to her room and found her drenched from head-to-toe in sweat... and throw-up! With the exception of baby spit-up, Ava has never, ever, ever thrown-up. Ever. Seriously, never. I had no idea what to do. I turned on a lamp and there was stuff everywhere. On her. Her pajamas. Her hair. The sheets. The comforter. Her stuffed bunny. Everywhere. So I cleaned her up, but by this time she was wide awake. Then I had to get her bedding and her bunny in the wash. I only had one set of sheets and one mattress pad because Kohl's was out of stock on additional sheet sets. So then Stefan had to set up her pack-n-play. By this time she was even more upset because I had to take her beloved bunny away to wash it, and there was no sleeping after that. She came into bed with us and I listened intently until the laundry was done. As soon as the dryer clicked off, I ran in, got bunny and put Ava in her pack-n-play. Ava didn't sleep much the rest of the night, waking up every hour or so, bless her little heart.

I think she was simply overheated in her new bed. Ava was never one to like a lot of blankets and pillows in her crib, etc., so I think she just got too hot with everything on her new bed. She napped really well today in her bed with no covers, so tonight we put her to bed with just the top sheet and we'll see how that works. So far, so good.

The After Picture

A Few Things About the Kids, and Ian's Seven-Month Picture

2009-07-26T20:43:00.006-04:00

Because I am apparently inept at comprising a decent post these days, I thought I would mention a few things that are going on with Ava and Ian right now.

Ava can now sing the entire alphabet without aid or help. When she reaches the end - "Now I know my ABCs" - she forgets to end the song and just loops it... "Now I know my ABCs-D-E-F-G-H-I-J..." She does this continuously until I divert her. She is also very into tea parties right now. She sits her stuffed bunny and a larger-than-her sized Mickey Mouse at her playroom table. She then sets the table with cups, saucers, a tea pot and little play cupcakes from her kitchen. She then sings happy birthday to herself and "blows out" the pretend candle in the cupcake. The "tea" is actually little plastic balls from another toy that she puts into the cups. And the ball color has to match the color of the cup. That's the little OCD in her popping through, and I'm so proud!

Ian giggles up a storm when we say "beep-beep."

Ava has recently become OBSESSED with Barney the Dinosaur. She absolutely loves him and his show. I used to mock it, but seriously, it's a great show. Kids are nice to each other, they have manners, and Ava has never given me so many hugs due to the "I Love You" song they sing at the end of EVERY episode. We sing it together everyday and she gives me "a great big hug and a kiss from me to you" every time. That, in and of itself, is reason enough for me to love the show. At night, I can hear her singing the song to her stuffed bunny in her bed. So sweet.

Ian turned 7 months old on July 22nd. I took pictures but didn't post. Actually, I never posted after his 6-month well-child exam last month, either. Now it just seems anti-climactic, so I'll just give the numbers: Ian weighed 15 pounds, 14 ounces, and measured nearly 26 inches long. As usual, the shots stunk. These days I'm sure he's pushing the 17-pound mark. I am LOVING this stage with Ian right now, despite the perpetual teething. He's big enough to play and interact with us and his toys, but he's still small enough to hold and cuddle. He is giggly and snuggly and oh-so wonderful right now. He "talks" to us constantly and is entertained by the sound of his own voice. I love to blow kisses on his belly and he's super ticklish on his back. He's getting more hair down the center of his head (think mohawk), just like Ava did when her hair was first coming in. Every night, when I go into his room to tuck him in before heading to bed myself, it takes every ounce of will power to not pick him up out of his crib and bring him into bed with me and Stefan. But the teething, yeah, that's not fun. We're hoping those teeth pop through soon!

The Monotony of Motherhood

2009-07-13T13:50:00.007-04:00

I know it's been forever since I've posted. And to be honest, it's not from a lack of fodder. Believe me, there is enough going on at my house to publish 50 posts. It's the author who's the problem. Me. And my apologies to those who read regularly with the hope of finding a new cute picture of the kids or a new recipe (oh yeah, the recipe thing. Hmm, gotta get back on that.). I have just been exhausted and lazy recently. I have thought to myself a million times, "You know, I should blog about this cute thing Ian is doing right now." But then the thought of sitting down at the computer and actually typing the post turns me off. I'm just flat-out exhausted, and there's really no excuse. Well, actually, I do have an excuse, I'm just not sure how viable it is.

I remember getting this way when Ava was Ian's age (6 months). It's more of a mental exhaustion than a physical exhaustion. It's the tiredness felt from doing the exact same thing, day-in and day-out, as a result of having your children on a schedule. Wake up. Feed. Play. Feed. Nap. Feed. Play. Feed. Bath. Feed. Bed. Repeat. Whether it's a Tuesday or a Saturday, my days are identical from beginning to end, and after so long, I feel like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. I AM Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. I love my job - it's the best one in the world - but it's about now I start realizing the importance of Mommy Solitude. When Ava was 6 months old, Stefan instituted "Mommy's Night Out," and one night a week, from 5 p.m. until whenever I wanted, I was Jackie, not mommy. I left the house and did whatever I wanted. Met friends for dinner or coffee. Ran errands. Shopped. Went to Barnes and Noble and read with Starbucks in hand. Drive around with MY music on at absolutely ridiculous volume levels. Whatever. It was me time, and it broke up the monotony of the week. Stefan asked me last week if it was time to reinstate "Mommy's Night Out," and while it was tempting to say yes, I said no, because I know that if I desperately need time away, I'll take it. Stefan is awesome like that - he will take the kids for a night if I need him to, without question. He never holds it over my head or makes me feel guilty about it. He actually encourages me to do it. Because he knows I'm better for it: a better mom, a better wife and a more balanced person. This Wednesday I am taking my very dear friend Mandy out for her birthday, and I am SO looking forward to it.

Here are a few pictures from the past few weeks. I hope to be posting regularly again soon!

Ian getting some kisses from Annie.

July Fourth - Ava & Ian.

July Fourth - Ian and Dad.

July Fourth - Ava dancing to the music. She has this quirky little dance she does - picture Elaine from Seinfeld and you have the gist. It's just adorable, and she LOVES to dance!

July Fourth - Ava sliding out of the bouncy thing.

July Fourth - Ava: contemplative and beautiful.

Look Who's Got the Giggles

2009-06-23T21:06:00.005-04:00

I've said it before and I'll say it again: the sound of a child's gut-busting laugh is the best thing in the world. This video is proof. I have no idea why Ian found this so amusing, but once I got him going, I couldn't stop. Oh, and incase you're wondering, what you hear in the background is Ava saying "happy birthday," and "I love my Pooh Book." She couldn't let Ian have the entire spotlight!

Ian's Half Birthday

2009-06-22T21:59:00.003-04:00

Ian is 6 months old today. As I thought about what I would write to commemorate the occasion, I watched the video Stefan took tonight of us singing Happy Half Birthday to Ian, and I stumbled upon some old videos of Ava. Old, as in December 2007, when our baby girl was a mere 12 months old. At first, I couldn't believe there was video from 2007 still on the camera, for Pete's sake. But then, after a minute, I was so grateful to have found that treasure trove of beautiful memories. There were several video snippets, including her crawling, playing with Annie, and her very first steps. There was a video of her pulling up into a standing position for nearly the first time. There was a video capturing her nightly sprint to the bathroom when I mentioned the word "bath." I ran upstairs, grabbed Stefan, and the two of us sat on the sofa in our bedroom for 15 minutes, stunned at what we were watching. Was that really Ava? I was shocked at how much I had forgotten - the sound of her squeals, the adorable toddle of her first steps. How wobbly and clumsy she was as she attempted to do everything for the first time. I watched myself in the videos and loved how engrossed I was in the moment. You could read the strain in my eyes: "Remember this, Jackie. Don't forget this, Jackie. Don't you dare forget this." I cried as I continued to watch those videos, wanting that time back so badly, feeling sad that she'll never again be that size. Here is this beautiful little girl, sleeping soundly just down the hall, and here I am, sobbing over home movies of her just 18 months ago. I miss her. I know she's only two-and-a-half, but in my eyes, she's all grown up.

So then I got back to the task at hand: thinking about Ian. He's growing so fast and changing every minute. I'm living the moments with him now, but in just 18 short months, I'll look back at his half-birthday video with the same nostalgia and awe with which I watched those videos of Ava. And I'll hate myself for not remembering. I'll be shocked at how little he was, how fragile. I'll want it back. So as I sit here typing this post, I'm telling myself that this is the time. These are those moments. Don't forget. Soak it all in. Take pictures. Enjoy him.

Happy half birthday, Ian. I love you so much, and while I can't wait to watch you grow and do things on your own, please know that I am loving this time, too. I just want to be sure I remember it forever. Get ready... you are going to be seeing a lot of the video camera.

Mad Love from an Old Friend

2009-06-13T14:09:00.022-04:00

Lookie at what I got! Oh boy, I'm so very excited to have received my very first blog award from my sweet friend Colleen. We have known each other since high school in Florida, but we lost touch during the college years even though we attended the same university (how sad is that?!?!). P.S. GO GATORS! Anyway, we found each other again a few years ago and have managed to stay in touch, although I wish I could see her more often. Colleen's blog is a true inspiration for several reasons. First, the girl gets real. Very real. She tells it like it is, and usually, this means I am doubled-over in laughter. Second, Colleen's blog is just down right adorable. It looks professionally done. Seriously, follow the link above and be amazed. I fully admit to having blog envy when it comes to her spread. Love it! Colleen has also reminded me that there is more to my life than children. For over a year now, I have blogged about pregnancy and children - my children - and little else. And as a mom of two tots under age 3, I'm sure you can understand that there is little time in my life for all things unrelated to diapers, toys, car seats, spit up, pureed food, houseproofing, peanut butter and jelly, discipline, potty training, and watching my language around a very sponge-like 2.5-year-old. But reading Colleen's blog reminds me that I exist apart from my children, even if I don't really enjoy writing about that existence. Because let's just face it: life is a hell of a lot funnier with kids! So I'll try to write more often about other things that interest me. Hmm, what is it that interests me? I forget. I'll figure it out and let you know. On to the award! Oh, and thanks Neener!

The "Love Ya" Award states: These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.

Would I be totally snubbing the greatness of the award if I passed it on to only four people? I know the rules say to award eight, but seriously, I barely know eight bloggers! So pathetic.

1. Tracy at The Wagstaff Family. Tracy is one of my dearest friends, and she resides in Utah. We met through church and came to know the awesomeness of God's grace together. Tracy is an AMAZING photographer and has her own business. She cans her own pumpkin, makes her own home decor, designs her own artwork and is a damn good mom. In a nutshell, she's a domestic goddess, and I love her. Love her blog, too. Tracy harped on me for months to start my own blog, and so I did.

2. Bonnie at The Real Jackson Five. My totally wonderful sister. Older, wiser and did I mention older? Bonnie taught me how to design my blog so it actually looked nice, and I will be forever grateful for that! Bonnie is very similar to me in that she blogs about her three beautiful kiddos and the big family events. It's just darling.

3. Lori at I'm The Manager. I have known Lori for a few years now, and even though we moved back home to Atlanta before Lori and I had the opportunity to really get to know each other, I still keep in touch and read her blog regularly. Lori is a very balanced blogger because she blogs about her adorable little boy, her own life, and even about things such as her favorite jewelry pieces. It ROCKS! I seriously look forward to reading Lori's posts when she writes about her favorite things because it's from her that I get so many ideas for myself and for my own home.

4. Stephani at Ham Fam On The Go. Steph is a cousin of my husband's, but I love reading about her kids and life in upstate New York. She is as busy as busy gets! Love your blog, Steph!

Ian and Drew

2009-06-04T12:29:00.006-04:00

As most of you know, my sister Bonnie also recently had a baby boy. Drew Jackson was born on March 1, 2009, just a little more than two months after Ian entered the world. With two boys almost identical in age, it's easy to dream about their future as playmates and close buddies. It will be fun to watch them grow up together with the blood of cousins but (hopefully!) the relationship of brothers. With our busy schedules, getting both boys together for pictures, etc., has been difficult to say the least. Bonnie and I have tried several times, but it always turns out that one is fussy or the other is sleeping. One night last week, however, the moment was good (or, as good as a Kodak moment can be with a 5-month-old and a three-month-old). So we took a couple of pictures. I envisioned a close-up photo, with Ian and Drew looking at each other, like you see on heavyweight fight posters. Bonnie and I held our boys up as Stefan tried to take the picture, but it was so funny that Bonnie and I had a hard time keeping our arms extended and steady. The picture didn't turn out exactly as I had hoped, but maybe we'll try again later. In the meantime, enjoy these two quirky pics of our baby boys...

Tagged!

2009-06-01T12:58:00.004-04:00

My very good friend Colleen over at The Mess Potential is Exponential tagged me in this fun blog tagging game! Here are the rules:

1. List Six UNIMPORTANT Things That Make You Happy.

2. Mention and link to the person who tagged you

3. Tag six of your favorite bloggers to play along, and comment on their blog to let them know they've been tagged.

My six UNIMPORTANT things that make me happy are:

1. Trying a new recipe and having it turn out beautifully

2. My handmade greeting cards

3. The sound of the wind blowing through the trees in my backyard on a lovely day

4. Reading a magazine

5. Napping with the windows open

6. The smell and appearance of a freshly cleaned bathroom

I tagged the ladies from six of my favorite blogs:

1. Bonnie at The Real Jackson Five

2. Trace at Wagtrio

3. Lori at I'm the Manager

4. Steph at Ham Fam on the Go

5. Lisa at The Sanders Family

6. Liz at The Friel Family

Bring on the Veggies! Ian's First Sweet Potatoes

2009-05-25T12:19:00.003-04:00

Our little man loves, loves, LOVES his sweet potatoes!

"Gimme more sweet potatoes, please!"

"Mmmm, so this is what real food tastes like. Yum. No more of that rice cereal stuff for me!" (I love how Ian puts his hand on my arm as I feed him.)

Ava had to get in on the action.

Five Months Old and a Bundle of Love

2009-05-22T20:31:00.008-04:00

Ian is five whole months old today! Sigh... where does the time go?

He is an absolute joy and (mostly) all smiles. We are on a very solid routine these days of three naps and six meals. He eats his cereal twice a day, although sweet potatoes will be introduced this week. He's rolling over all the time and can sit unsupported for a few brief seconds. His favorite toys are his play gym, his crab rattle, and a caterpillar toy that plays music and sings about numbers and colors. He loves to watch "big-kid toys" in action, such as Ava's ball popper and Little People Carnival. But most of all, Ian just loves interaction with us. He loves the faces we make at him and the noises we say. I've even started doing this thing called "Mommy Beat Box," where I make drum and cymbal noises while moving his arms and legs. It's quite a riot and both of my kids love it (Ava even requests it on a daily basis!). If that doesn't get Ian laughing, nothing will.

Bathtime is still a hit, but my new favorite time with him is right after his morning and post-nap bottles. For both, Ava is still sleeping/napping, so it's just me and Ian. Now that I no longer have the middle-of-the-night feeding and cuddle sessions, I really cherish this quiet time with my baby. I sit him up or lay him across my lap, and we coo and giggle together. I talk to him and tell him about all of the things I'll teach him, and he responds with gurgles and squeals. We'll play pat-a-cake, this little piggy or itsy bitsy spider, and those usually elicit some giggles. I love this time! But don't get me wrong, bathtime is still a very close second. Ian's reflux is still an issue, but the good news is that he's not in a lot of pain with it. It's more of a spit-up issue than a pain/colic issue, which I feel is the lesser of two evils.

Overall, I am really enjoying this time with him. He's such a wonderful little guy and I smile every time I think of him. I was telling Bonnie a couple of weeks ago that I can't kiss his little feet anymore (my favorite baby part!) because I get a little carried away. He's just that cute and cuddly. I'm more in love with him everyday. Enjoy the pictures!

"Mommy! Huuuuug!"

2009-05-20T12:23:00.002-04:00

Oh, the things my children do to wrap me further around their little fingers. Lately, Ava's tactic has been hugs. A while ago, she asked me for a hug, and after I composed myself from gushing over my daughter's sweetness, I gave her the biggest bear hug I could without squishing her and said, "Mommy will never, ever, say no to a hug from you!" Ever since I said that, Ava has taken my words to heart and requests a hug any time she feels sad, lonely, hurt, scared, mad, embarrassed, or sick. She'll come running to me, tears streaming down her face, yelling, "Mommy! Huuuuuug!" She turns the word "hug" into an eight-syllable word. Then she'll burrow deep into my legs until I squat down and wrap her in my arms. Those moments are among my favorites when it comes to motherhood.

But recently, she's learned the fine art of manipulation because she'll ask for a hug when I am playing with Ian, feeding Ian or cooking dinner. Basically, if I am doing anything other than paying attention to her. I can just read her mind: "But mommy, you said you would never, ever, say no to a hug from me!" I pity her future husband.

Ava's First Bike

2009-05-12T12:44:00.004-04:00

Stefan surprised us by taking yesterday off from work, after being in Florida for five days. We had a fun and relaxing day, and in the afternoon, we got Ava her very first bike. We live in a cul de sac, and every afternoon, our neighbors' kids all get together and ride bikes, scooters and motorized cars in the nearly vacant cul de sac. Some of the younger ones just toddle around with toys, etc. All of the kids are within a couple of years of each other in age, so everyone gets along great and has a lot of fun together. Ava has been pushing her doll in her stroller while the older kids ride around, but yesterday, she got her first bike. Stefan put it together as quickly as he could because Ava was so excited to try it out. We took her outside during Ian's evening nap, and Stefan taught her how to ride it. We quickly learned that Ava's legs are just a hair too short to push the pedals the whole way around, but this summer, she'll be able to reach them just fine and will no doubt be zooming around our cul de sac with finesse. In the meantime, we'll keep trying until she gets it. We really don't mind pushing her - it's fun to see her face light up, not to mention great exercise!

Daddy helping Ava onto her new bike

"I'm officially a big girl!"

Daddy and Annie coaching Ava on pedaling.

"Look at me go!"

"I am pretty hot on this bike, aren't I?"

My Mother's Day

2009-05-10T20:12:00.003-04:00

This morning, I got both of my babies out of bed with kisses and a "thank you for making me a mommy." Our day was filled with our normal schedule, and I thought about how much I love my job. For a few minutes today, I rolled around on the floor with both Ava and Ian, tickling them, wrestling with them, zerberting their bellies and tickling their toes. I relished in their giggles and squeals, laughing right along with them, and then I realized there is nothing better in the world than hearing your child laugh.

A year ago today, I found out I was pregnant with Ian. I woke up early that morning and took a home pregnancy test, although I already knew the answer. Ava lay sound asleep in her crib - just 17 months old - still dreaming away. Stefan was in Florida for The Players Golf Tournament, and so it was just me and the pregnancy test. When I took the test with Ava, I covered the stick and waited the prescribed three minutes for the test to develop. I wanted to be surprised. But with Ian's test, I sat there and watched it develop, knowing full well I was going to see that beautiful second pink line. When it showed positive, I cupped my hands over my face and whispered "God Almighty!" about 40 times. Ian wasn't planned, but I was beyond elated nonetheless. On Mother's Day 2008, I became a mother of two. And today, 2009, I played the day away with them. I am overwhelmed by all of the goodness in my life.

I remember a time several years ago, when I was in college, that I actually thought about not having children. I didn't think I would make a good mother. But now that I have children, I don't know how I ever existed before them. They are so much a part of me that I can't bear to imagine life without them. They are my soul - walking around outside of my body - with precious faces, curious hands and eyes so deep you could get lost in them. I'm so thankful God chose me as their mother. They are the ultimate gift. They make it Mother's Day 365 days a year. I love you so very much, Ava & Ian!

Ian's Big Weekend

2009-05-08T13:31:00.005-04:00

Last weekend was a big one for Ian. On Saturday, we brought up Ava's old jumperoo-exersaucer combo for Ian to try. He loves it! And on Sunday, he had his first cereal feeding and did extremely well. He's had cereal in his bottles for the past month, but now he's eating it with a spoon and chows down. I'll keep the post short and just let the pictures do the talking. Enjoy!

Content and Entertained...

First Bite!

I love eating my cereal like a big boy, mommy!

Recipe of the Week: Pasta with Turkey Sausage, Spinach & Peppers

2009-04-28T12:47:00.007-04:00

Adapted from Martha Stewart's Good Food Fast cookbook, which is a dandy.

INGREDIENTS

1 pound short pasta, such as radiatore, corkscrew or farfalle (bowties)
1 pound turkey sausage, casings removed
6 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
4 yellow (or red) bell peppers, thinly sliced
4 tablespoons butter
1 bag baby spinach leaves
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Coarse salt and ground pepper, for seasoning
Freshly grated parmesan cheese for sprinkling on top at the table

DIRECTIONS

Cook pasta. Drain, reserving 1 1/2 cups pasta water; return pasta to pot.
Meanwhile, cook sausage and 2 tablespoons water in a large covered nonstick skillet over medium until fat renders, 5 minutes. Uncover; raise heat to medium-high. Brown sausage, breaking it up with a spoon, 7 minutes.
Add garlic, bell peppers, red pepper flakes and 1/4 cup reserved pasta water; cook until peppers soften, 6 minutes. Add 3/4 cup pasta water and butter; swirl to combine.
Transfer to pot. Add spinach; season with salt and pepper. Toss; add more pasta water as desired. Serve with parmesan cheese.

Ian is Four Months Old!

2009-04-24T12:46:00.003-04:00

Our little boy is growing and changing so fast! At his four-month well-child doctor's visit yesterday, Ian tipped the scale at 12 pounds, 11 ounces, and measured 24.75 inches long. He has caught up to full-term babies, although I must admit I was disappointed when the scale didn't even come close to the 15 pound mark. With Ian's recent eating binges, I was certain we were going to see a larger gain. Even my sister said he felt heavier than that. But regardless of my silly expectations, the great news is that Ian is right on schedule with growth and ahead of schedule in terms of motor skills - a direct result of sleeping on his tummy for over a month now. The doctor put Ian on his tummy to test his ability to pull up, and not only did Ian pull up, he creeped and scootched all the way to the other end of the table. The doctor said, "Whoa, now there's one busy baby!" I didn't confess to her that my boy sleeps on his tummy, but I'm sure she knew. And unfortunately, Ian sustained four shots and an oral vaccination before we left for the day. That's the worst thing ever for mommies to experience!

Ian has been giggling and squealing nonstop, and sometimes I can't get enough, so I keep tickling and playing to get more giggles out of him. Then, of course, it backfires and I realize I pushed the envelope too far when he goes from giggling to crying in 1.2 seconds. But it's worth it to hear those gut-busting laughs! He holds his rattle and adores lights and music. He's my little kickin' chicken - as I've nicknamed him - because when he plays, his legs go a mile a minute. He sits with very little support for extended periods of time now and has fun playing with his toys. And he still gets the biggest joys from watching big sister Ava play and run about. He is mesmerized by her every move! And the best part? He's been sleeping through the night (7:45 p.m. to 7 a.m.) for a month now!

But we weren't able to escape this month without challenges. Ian came into his fourth month like a lion, and I hope he'll go out like a lamb. He hit a growth spurt a couple of weeks ago and has given us a run for our money ever since. Fortunately, he still sleeps through the night, but until a few days ago, daytime naps were nonexistent. He would cry for hours on end, and there were days when I wanted to scream. But after making adjustments to both his schedule and his bottle, we seem to have reached a golden zone of great naps and solid nights. Quick, someone knock on wood! Enjoy these pictures I took on April 22nd, his official 4 month birthday.

Baby feet are irresistible.

Such a big boy!

I look just like my sister!

Me and my crooked smile. (So cute!)

"Whoops! I was bored, so I rolled over."

Ava's Story Time (and Another Cute Story)

2009-04-16T13:29:00.007-04:00

Yesterday, as I was playing with Ian in the family room, I heard Ava's soft voice coming from the dining room. Her little voice was rising and falling in a rhythmical fashion, although I couldn't hear exactly what she was saying. So I got up and tiptoed into the dining room, peeking around the corner to see exactly what was going on. What I saw was something truly precious: Ava reading to her stuffed animals. She lined them up against the wall, and sat between them, so they could all see the pictures. She had a small pile of books beside her, as if she was planning to read the whole lot to them. Ava had her favorite book, Over in the Ocean, and she was reading it aloud, just as I do when I read it to her. At first she didn't see me, so I watched from a distance in silence for a moment, filled with both pride and guilt. It's during these times that I can physically feel my heart breaking - not just with sorrow, but also with love. My least favorite part of being a mother of two is that a lot of times I have to choose between children. I can't be in two places at once, so much of my day is spent running back and forth between kids. It's something I am still learning to cope with, and I'm not sure I'll ever get the hang of it, especially when something like this happens. So I ran to get the camera, and I quietly went back into the dining room, where story time was in full swing. I raised the camera to take a picture of our little bookworm in action, and as soon as I did, Ava stopped reading, looked up and said "Cheese!" So I didn't get any good action shots, but I did manage to get a cute picture regardless.

Ava, as she finishes story time with her stuffed animals, Mickey & Bunny.

And today, during lunch, Ava clasped her hands to pray and began reciting a prayer song we've taught her (actually, it's a prayer song my sister taught my nieces, and we have picked it up along the way):

God our Father, God our Father

We thank you, we thank you

For our many blessings, for our many blessings

Amen, Amen.

On most days, Stefan and I sing the prayer while she listens, although some days she does try to sing along. But today, Ava took the lead and sang the song all by herself. When she got to the final line (Amen, Amen), she pronounced it "Oh Man! Oh Man!" I giggled at this but immediately praised her for her efforts. Oh Ava, you're just too cute for words right now. Please don't ever change. Please don't ever grow up. Please stay just like this. Forever.

Easter 2009

2009-04-13T12:48:00.013-04:00

Has it really been two weeks since my last post? Wow. This has to be the longest span between two posts yet. Sorry. Life has been busier than usual (is that possible?) and I haven't had a chance to sit down and write a decent post. I do have quite a bit to share, so I hope to get the urge to write a lot over the next few days so that I can post about everything that's been going on. Let's start with the most obvious: Easter.

We had a lovely Easter weekend with Stefan's mom, grandmother and sister. They flew down from upstate New York to meet Ian, and for Great Gram McCarthy, it was her first time meeting Ava, too! Ava quickly warmed up to everyone, calling Gram "Grandma Great," and Maura was "Aunt Marmer." Maura was great at playing with Ava, and the grandmothers were always so happy to hold Ian and walk around with him. It was a fabulous visit, but after they left this morning, it occurred to me that we forgot to take a very important picture of Great Gram, Grandma, Stefan, Ava & Ian: FOUR generations. I kept reminding myself all weekend to make sure I took that photo, and I forgot. I'm so sad that we missed the opportunity, but it does give us all a great reason to get back together soon. As usual, I didn't take a lot of pictures, but Maura did, so I hope to get those from her soon.

Grandma with Ian

It was Ava's third Easter and Ian's first, and neither of them really had a clue what was going on, but it was fun anyway. We started the festivities with a flashlight egg hunt on Wednesday night...

Ava hunting for eggs at her first-ever Easter Egg Hunt.

The rest of the weekend was very low-key. On Saturday afternoon, we colored Easter Eggs, which was a fiasco with a two-year-old. Ava was so excited that she just couldn't keep her hands out of the dyes, and it was a mess. But I reminded myself that she's just two and had an absolute blast - so what if she got a little messy?

Ava was so proud of her work.

Daddy helping Ava retrieve an egg from the dye bath.

"OK, what do I do with it NOW?"

Ava and I dipping an egg.

On Sunday morning, Ava and Ian both learned the Easter Bunny had visited them! Once Ava saw her basket, she said two things. The first thing she said was, "WOW! Pretty!" And the second thing she said was, "Suh-weet!" Stefan and I have never heard that come out of her mouth, and when she said it - correction, shouted it - we laughed until we cried. It was so appropriate for the moment; Ava never ceases to amaze us with her words. She spent the next several minutes examining her basket (or bucket, as she calls it) of sidewalk chalk, Color Wonder kits, bubbles, clothes, and of course, candy. The chocolate Gators were provided by Stefan's dad and stepmom. They're almost too cute to eat! Almost.

And finally, on Sunday afternoon, Ava hunted for eggs in the backyard - our own little egg hunt. She learned all about egg hunts during the flashlight hunt on Wednesday, so she knew exactly what to do. We had a great time watching her run all over the yard, yelling, "Look! It's a pink egg! Look! It's a purple egg!" Stefan and I look forward to sharing the story of Easter next year, when she will be able to understand it (in simple terms).

Recipe: Oreo Cheesecake Balls

2009-03-30T14:07:00.003-04:00

Yum. I got this recipe from my friend Anne, so I really can't take credit. But make these. Make them often. There's only three ingredients, and they couldn't be easier to put together. I made these for my sister's birthday, and they were divine.

Oreo Cheesecake Balls
1 Package Double-Stuf Oreo Cookies (yes, the entire box)
1 8-oz. package cream cheese, softened
1 package chocolate chips (you choose the flavor)

1. Form crumbs with the Oreos (a food processor does this the fastest, but do whatcha gotta do to get those crumbs).

2. Combine the cookie crumbs and the cream cheese. I used a stand mixer with the paddle attachment and it worked beautifully. If you do this step by hand, you will literally need to use your hands. No spoon or spatula will do this job as well as your hands.

3. The mixture will be very thick. Form into balls - as big or as little as you want. I used a scoop to create golf-ball-sized pieces, and I got 24 total. But you can make them as big or as small as you want.

4. Refrigerate for a few hours, until firm.

5. Melt the chocolate chips in the microwave or over a double boiler. Either dip the balls into the chocolate or drizzle the chocolate over top. Either is fine, but I prefer it drizzled.

6. Refrigerate again for a couple of hours, until you're ready to serve them.

"Guilty as Charged"

2009-03-26T21:00:00.002-04:00

For those who have read our blog in the past couple of months, you might remember a certain run-in with our local police authority about our expired, out-of-state tags. Today was our court date, and Stefan obediently went. He first met with a prosecutor who reviewed the two charges against us: driving with expired tags and failure to register the vehicle. She asked Stefan about the folder he brought with him - our War-and-Peace book of medical bills, illustrating the story of my complicated pregnancy, bed rest, hospitalizations, etc. Once Stefan explained to her that we endured some difficult times, making it nearly impossible to register the cars, get our drivers' licenses, etc., the prosecutor dropped one charge (the most expensive one) but kept the minor charge plus court fees. She asked how Stefan pleaded, and without hesitation he said, "Guilty." It wasn't worth a fight, and we both knew that although the timing was poor, we were busted for not registering our cars in Georgia. After all was said and done, we escaped with a total fine of just $86, so I am very happy. It could have been several hundred dollars worse, and we're lucky to get off so easy. I think what peeves me more than the fine, however, was the fact that my husband had to stand in a courtroom and plead guilty to a "crime." Seriously. Whatever happened to simply issuing a ticket and moving on with the day?

Three Months Old and All Smiles

2009-03-22T21:22:00.004-04:00

We were all fast asleep at 2:12 this morning, when Ian officially turned three months old. But all day today, I kept thinking about that moment when he was born, and how it seems like it was just yesterday. I know it's so cliche to always mention how time goes by so fast, but when I consider that Ian is already three months old I am blown away. I just can't believe it. And we're enjoying him so immensely that I wish time could just stand still for a little while, so that I can memorize his face, his coos and gurgles, and his smile. Oh, his smile... It's the reason I get up each morning. It melts my heart. I am just so in love.

Ian is doing super. He loves to sit up and play more so than laying down. If I lay him on his back to play, he cries until I pull him into a sitting position, and then he smiles to let me know that's exactly what he wanted. This makes entertaining him difficult, as both of my hands are occupied steadying him, but he doesn't mind. My knuckles are tasty entertainment, and much of the time he just watches big sister Ava as she colors or runs around with her toys. He is just amazed by Ava. It's almost as if he is studying her and trying to figure out how she does all she does. I can just hear what's going on in his head: "Wow! She can walk and talk and color and hold her toys and wrestle with daddy. I can't wait until I can do all those things!"

Ian is cooing and gurgling nonstop, which is just adorable. He loves to just watch me make faces at him - his favorite being the ever-popular fishy face - and when I coo and gurgle back at him, he smiles so big I just laugh. It's just a treat. Really.

Our favorite time of day - both his and mine - is evening bath time. After we put Ava to bed for the night, I set up his bath on the kitchen island (my back won't be able to withstand nightly baths in the big tub until he is sitting unsupported). We dim the lights and play some soft music (Nicolette Larson's Sleep Baby Sleep album - THANK YOU TRACY!!). As soon as we lay him down to undress him, he starts to smile and coo. He could be screaming bloody murder, but the moment we turn on the music, dim the lights and start running the bath water, all is right with the world. Something happens and he just gets in the BEST mood. During his bath, he just lays there with this look of sheer contentment on his face, as if he's waited all day for his bath. I sing to him and he looks up at me as if I am the next American idol (um, I'm not, by the way). It is seriously my favorite time of day. I just don't want it to end.

Recipe: Irish Beef Pies

2009-03-17T12:24:00.004-04:00

Happy St. Patrick's Day! I will be the first to admit that I don't really celebrate this holiday. I'm not Irish. But Stefan does have some Irish lineage, so he uses today as an excuse to drink a Black & Tan. I, however, turn to food, because I'm not a beer drinker. So alas, here is a recipe for Irish Beef Pies. I'll be serving these tonight with mashed potatoes. They are great from the freezer, and you don't even need to thaw them before baking. This is from Martha Stewart Everyday Food.

Irish Beef Pies
Makes 8.

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/4 head green cabbage, shredded
1/2 pound red potatoes, scrubbed and diced
1 pound ground beef sirloin
3 tablespoons tomato paste
1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
Coarse salt and ground pepper
All-purpose flour, for rolling
2 piecrusts (9 inches each), homemade or store-bought

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

1. In a medium saucepan, heat oil over medium; add cabbage and potatoes. Cook until beginning to brown, 7 to 9 minutes. Add beef; cook, breaking up meat with a spoon, until no longer pink, about 5 minutes. Stir in tomato paste, Worcestershire, thyme, and 1 cup water. Cover, and cook until potatoes are tender, about 15 minutes. Lightly mash mixture with a fork. Season with salt and pepper. Let cool completely.

2. On a lightly floured work surface, roll each crust into a 14-inch square; cut each into 4 equal squares. Place 1/2 cup filling on one half of each square, leaving a 1/2-inch border around the filling. Brush borders with water; fold dough over filling to enclose. Crimp edges with a fork to seal. With a paring knife or scissors, cut 3 small vents in each. (**I am thinking of making one big pie next time, instead of making 8 individual pies. This will cut way back on prep time, and I think it will turn out just like chicken pot pie, only with beef. I would just increase the cooking time to 30 minutes, or 60 minutes if baking from frozen.)

3. Transfer pies to 2 foil-lined rimmed baking sheets; bake until golden brown, 10 to 12 minutes, rotating sheets halfway through.

To Freeze: Prepare through step 2. Arrange unbaked pies on a baking sheet (they should not touch); freeze until firm, about 1 hour. Wrap each pie in foil. Place in a resealable plastic bag; freeze up to 2 months.

To Bake from Frozen: Proceed with step 3, increasing baking time to 28 to 30 minutes.

Over the Shoulder

2009-03-13T20:34:00.002-04:00

After one of Ian's feedings, Stefan was walking around with him up on his shoulder. The expression on Ian's face was priceless; the camera really doesn't do it justice. But I got some good pics regardless. My little man is just a doll!

Recipe: Cajun Crab Dip

2009-03-08T20:12:00.002-04:00

Last night, Stefan and I grilled out with some friends to celebrate the wonderful mid-70-degree weather (welcome Spring!). Everyone brought their own meat to grill, but we all brought a side dish to share. Stefan and I brought a cajun crab dip and crackers, which everyone seemed to enjoy. Several people asked me for the recipe, and I shamelessly admitted that I bought the dip at Publix. Yesterday was a very busy day, and I simply didn't have time to cook. I do typically make my own cajun crab dip, and this recipe is a dead ringer for the store-bought version. It's adapted from a Pampered Chef Recipe. Pampered Chef lightens the recipe by using fat free this and light that. I say to heck with it all and just go for the full-fat versions. It's crab dip, for cryin' out loud! Double the recipe if you're having company.

Cajun Crab Dip

4 oz cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 package (8oz) imitation crab meat, chopped
1/4 cup celery, chopped
1/4 cup green bell pepper, chopped
1 garlic clove, pressed
1 1/2 tbsp Cajun Seasoning

In a bowl, microwave cream cheese on high for 30 seconds until softened; whisk in mayonnaise. Chop crab meat. Chop celery and pepper. Add crab meat, celery, bell pepper, garlic and seasoning to cream cheese mixture; mix well. Spoon crab mixture into chilled bowl. Serve with crackers or toasted baguette slices.

Shopping!

2009-03-05T13:35:00.002-05:00

The other night, Ava managed to get my handbag out of its usual spot (which isn't easily reached, I might add). She put her arm through the handles and bolted for the door leading to the garage. As she ran, she exclaimed, "Shoppin'! Shoppin'!" Stefan was quick to grab the camera, although the excitement didn't last long. As soon as she discovered we weren't going to go shopping, she broke down into tears. I felt so bad, I almost put on my shoes to take her, even if it was just down the street to Publix. But we didn't go, and she was very upset. The entire ordeal was quite hilarious, and I couldn't help but get excited over the fact that in just a few short years, I will have my very own shopping buddy. Atta girl, Ava.

Goodbye, G8RGIRL

2009-03-02T13:57:00.003-05:00

After living in Georgia for eight months, Stefan and I finally registered our cars with the state. This was slightly bittersweet for me because I am FINALLY home in Georgia, but I had to give up my beloved G8RGIRL license plates that adorned my Pathfinder for nearly six years in Utah. It was easy to get a Florida-inspired tag in Utah, after all, but here in Georgia, not so much. So I opted instead for a non-personalized, UF-themed plate. I love it, but I'll always be G8RGIRL at heart!

A Perfect 10 (Pounds, that is)

2009-02-26T14:20:00.006-05:00

Ian's two-month well-child appointment was this morning, and it went very, very well! Our little man is up to 10 pounds, 5 ounces, which means he gained 5 pounds in 6 weeks. He doubled his weight! Now I understand the perpetual feedings! I was thrilled to see the number on the scale, and equally as thrilled to learn he's also grown 3 whole inches in 6 weeks! Ian is now 22.5 inches long and shows no signs of slowing down any time soon. Grow boy, grow!

Not everything was fun and games, however, as our poor boy also got five - yes, FIVE - pokes to the thigh and one oral "cocktail," all for vaccination purposes. He tolerated them well, only crying for a mere moment after they were administered. He received two circular Tweety Bird band aids (or "boo-boos," as Ava calls them) and lots of kisses from poor, suffering mommy. I think I was more affected by the shots than Ian!

I also discussed Ian's rapidly progressing reflux/gas issues with the pediatrician. Several treatment options were mentioned, from medication (Zantac) to switching to a soy-based formula. She recommended trying the Zantac first, and if that isn't good enough, switch the formula. Ava was also on an antacid until she was nine months old, so here we go again. But I'm happy to do anything to help Ian feel better as soon as possible. Feedings are reaching the 45 minute mark, and not only are they lengthy, they're also very painful. At the doctor's office, I had to feed Ian before going inside. I fed him in the front seat, and after about 10 minutes, a car pulled into the space in front of mine and the mom in the car began feeding her baby boy, too. Our eyes met briefly, and we smiled at each other with that "so-this-is-what-our-lives-have-become-now" look. She began feeding her baby, and 15 minutes later, she burped him, put him back in his car seat, and took him into the office. Just like that. Fifteen minutes, a burp and done. What?!?! Meanwhile, I am still fighting Ian to drink the rest of his bottle and keep it down. It's a fight I lost badly, and I got so frustrated. So I'm hoping the Zantac helps, at least a little bit. Poor Ava just doesn't understand why feeding baby brother takes so long and why I need to hold him all the time. Please Zantac, work.

But other than the reflux and gas, we have no complaints. Ian is healthy, thriving and developing right on schedule. Praise God for a healthy baby boy!

Recipe of the Week: Spaghetti Casserole

2009-02-24T13:48:00.002-05:00

Because I enjoy cooking, I thought I would use this blog to share my passion with those who read it. But because I am a new mom of two, my definition of "cooking" has changed drastically during these past two months. I can't afford to be in the kitchen for hours on end, preparing homemade French Onion Soup or my famous 5-Hour Gumbo from scratch. These days, it's all about getting dinner on the table quickly. My good friend Mandy also got me hooked on freezing meals, too, so that dinner is especially easy on those days when it's 5 p.m. and I have yet to get out of my pajamas. As recipes become staples in our home, I'll share them with you, because they are quick, easy and yummy. This week, it's Spaghetti Casserole, from The Dinner Doctor by Anne Byrn. This cookbook has become my right hand in the kitchen. If you're looking for a new cookbook, this one is a dandy! This meal freezes well, so if you make a batch, make double and freeze one so that you have it ready for next time. I serve it with a green salad and freshly baked breadsticks a la Pilsbury. Enjoy!

1 Tablespoon Olive Oil
1 lb Ground Beef
1/2 Cup Chopped Onion
1 can (10.75 oz) cream of mushroom soup
1 1/2 cups of your favorite tomato based pasta sauce
1 cup shredded Sharp Cheddar Cheese
4 Cups Cooked Spaghetti (8 oz uncooked)
2 Tablespoons Shredded Parmesan Cheese

Preheat the oven to 400 F

Place the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Crumble in the ground beef and add the onion and garlic. Cook, stirring and breaking up the lumps of meat, until the beef is brown all over and cooked through, 4 to 5 minutes. Remove the skillet from the heat and transfer the beef to a large mixing bowl. (If there is a lot of fat in the pan, drain the mixture in a strainer before transferring it). Add the soup, pasta sauce, 1/2 of the Cheddar Cheese, the cooked spaghetti, and 1/2 cup of water and stir to mix. Transfer the spaghetti to a 3 quart baking dish and sprinkle all but 1 tablespoon of the remaining Cheddar Cheese and 1 tablespoon of the Parmesan over the top.

Bake the spaghetti until it bubbles throughout and the cheese has melted, 18 to 20 minutes. Sprinkle the remaining tablespoon of each cheese and serve at once.

Serves 8

Ian is Two Months Old!

2009-02-22T20:02:00.008-05:00

Happy two-month birthday, my sweet little man.

Two Months and on a Schedule

2009-02-22T14:11:00.004-05:00

Incase anyone's been wondering why it's been a week since my last post, it's because we are working on getting Ian on a schedule. It's been tough, primarily because we also have a 2-year-old who has her own schedule. It's just not possible to keep the house peaceful and silent during the day so I can rock Ian to sleep for his three daily naps. And it's even tougher to keep the little man awake when he's so accustomed to sleeping whenever he pleases. Bath times and bedtimes are a challenge for now, as Ava is used to long cuddles and four+ stories, but Ian is exhausted and waiting for his turn in the tub. So we've been experimenting with different times and schedules, and I think we've finally got our groove. Ian is doing pretty well with adjusting. At first, he wasn't sleeping well at all during the day, and this made for an exhausted and stressed mommy who wasn't very nice to be around. But one afternoon, against my comfort level, I put Ian on his tummy for his afternoon nap and relished in 3 hours of peace and quiet. I know every pediatrician in the world would have a fit if they new this, but babies really do sleep better on their tummies. And the best part is that Ian is good about getting himself to sleep on his tummy. So I can put him in his crib awake if I need to, and he'll drift off to dreamland all by himself. He's still on his back at night, but I'm not sure how much longer that will last because I am getting exhausted with these two-a-night feedings. Some nights, he gets up only once, but this is not habitual yet. Most doctors would say twice a night at 2 months is fine and expected. But here in the Blum house, the quicker you're sleeping through the night, the happier mommy is. I am just one of those people who needs a lot of sleep to function properly.

So we're getting the hang of things, but we forgot how difficult of a time this is. Getting a baby on a schedule is a tough job, but it pays amazing dividends once he gets the hang of it.

Our Sweet Little Valentine

2009-02-15T20:23:00.003-05:00

Ava loves saying "Cheese!" for the camera these days, but she gets so excited about it that she can't sit still. So most of the time, I get a lot of pictures where she is smiling, but she's either blurry or not even looking at the camera. I did manage to get a couple good ones on Valentine's Day, however. Ian was fussy during picture time (come to think of it, he was fussy much of the day), so he didn't get his picture taken.

More Ava Pronunciations

2009-02-12T20:39:00.005-05:00

This post is a continuation of one I published a couple of weeks ago. As Ava's vocabulary expands, I try to write down her new words, as well as how she pronounces them. Although her vernacular far exceeds what I capture on paper, I can't help but post the best of the bunch.

Ellie-fanny = elephant

Jurass = giraffe

Abbledee = W

Ahmeer = oatmeal

Seerwer = cereal

Wogurt = yogurt

Ahnmoose = animals

Pennay = pudding

Dorsey = story

Care-fer = careful (said after she trips or takes a tumble)

Bass = bath

Our Budding Southpaw

2009-02-11T09:38:00.002-05:00

Ava is a lefty. After several months of favoring her left hand over her right to do tasks such as coloring and eating, Stefan and I have determined she's going to take after her father for one more trait. Stefan is beaming with pride over this one, primarily because left-handed people are so few and far between. She joins good company - other than her father, of course - which includes Albert Einstein, Oprah Winfrey, President Barack Obama and her very cool Uncle Bo. Just one more thing to illustrate how much Ava is her daddy's girl!

Just Another Day in Paradise

2009-02-08T20:49:00.002-05:00

We had high hopes for Saturday. It was going to be Ian's first outing. We were going to select and order Ava's big-girl furniture. We were going to have lunch out as a family and celebrate. We accomplished one of those things: Ian did get out of the house.

After two disappointing trips to local furniture stores (one specifically for children), we left empty handed. We found nothing that looked good enough to buy, and certainly nothing that seemed appropriate for Ava. My problem is that I am looking for something very specific, and that basically translates into me settling for something I dislike after searching for years and never quite finding what I'm looking for. Just look at our TV in our family room... it's still sitting on two night stands as I am on a quest to find the perfect media cabinet. So we decided to just head home because it was too early to eat lunch. We figured we would regroup and try again next Saturday. So on our way home, we're stopped at a red light and cop lights begin flashing behind us. Crap. My tags. They're still Utah tags... and they're expired... since last July. Sigh.

Stefan's driving and pulls over. The cop comes to the window and explains that our tags are expired (we know) and that we should have gotten the car registered in Georgia within 30 days of moving here (we know this, too). So he disappears to his car for what seems like forever and returns nearly 20 minutes later with TWO citations: one for driving a vehicle with expired tags and another for failure to register the car in Georgia within 30 days of moving here. I'm just glad Stefan was driving because at least he has his new Georgia driver's license. I still have my Utah license and would have gotten busted for that, too, should I have been behind the wheel. Stefan tried to explain that I went on bed rest very soon after moving here and it has been difficult to get this stuff done and blah, blah, blah. He didn't buy it. We looked at each other and knew that we were simply busted. We didn't get things taken care of and ran out of luck. It's our fault and we knew this. But I'm not kidding when I say "emissions and register cars" was on my to-do list for this upcoming week. Oh, the irony.

During our marathon routine traffic stop, our two little angels became very restless and hungry. So we decided to stop for a quick bite at McDonald's. It wasn't quite the celebratory lunch we were hoping for, but Ava got fed (and a Hello Kitty watch) and Ian also got fed. During lunch, Stefan and I just laughed. We drove 30 minutes one way to not buy furniture but instead reel in Lord-knows-how-much in traffic citations. Here in Georgia, you don't know how much you owe when you get the ticket. Instead, you have to call after 10 business days to find out just how steep the fine is. I guess they like to see you sweat for a couple of weeks. What started out to be a fun family morning turned into a dismal sequence of events that left us wanting to hit the rewind button and start the day over... all before 11 a.m!

To add insult to injury, on the way home, Stefan gets stuck behind a truck carrying a trailer full of trees. We're driving at a snail's pace and cars are passing us like we're standing still (it felt like we were). Finally after several miles, there was a break in the passing traffic and Stefan pulled into the passing lane to get past this tree truck. Well, just as he pulls over, I look to my right and see our exit. I looked at Stefan and said, "Really, honey?" So we got off at the next exit, turned around, and headed home. I have never been so excited to pull into our driveway.

Portrait of a Family

2009-02-02T14:30:00.005-05:00

Last weekend, we had some pictures taken of Ian for his birth announcement. But what we ended up with far exceeded a few simple shots of our new little man. We got some stunning shots of Ava, too, as well as a few candids of the four of us. The backdrop was our own dining room, which is currently empty, and the photographer was a family friend (www.darbyrosephotography.com). She did an amazing job of capturing the simple beauty of our babies and the warmth of our family. We love the pictures, and this blog is studded with them. For a complete yet brief slideshow, please go to www.darbyrosephotography.com, click on Slideshows, then on "Introducing Ian..." There is music, too, if you'd like to listen along.

If you live in the Atlanta area and need some portraits taken, you have to go with Darby. She is wonderful and keeps things simple. Thanks Darby!

How Old Would You Be?

2009-01-29T20:43:00.004-05:00

The other day - Monday, actually - I was at my sister's house and reading an article in one of her magazines. The article wasn't very good, but the shrink in the piece posed a very interesting question that has had me thinking ever since I read it:

If you didn't know your age, how old would you say you were?

Very intriguing. I'm not sure, exactly. So I immediately began rationalizing.

I have a closet full of stilettos, Boden clothing and Kate Spade handbags. Young.

I also haven't been to a mall in months and get excited about going to Target. Definitely old.

I am energetic and can keep up with my toddler and 5-week-old. Young.

I watch The Golden Girls on a regular basis. Old.

My iPod is loaded with songs played at the hottest clubs. Young.

I would rather stay home and watch Sex and the City for the millionth time and eat my weight in popcorn than go to those clubs and listen to said music. Old.

My babysitter has no clue who Fleetwood Mac is and believes with all her heart that the Dixie Chicks are the original group to perform "Landslide." Dammit! Old.

I can't remember the last time I was carded. Old.

I laugh a lot, work hard and play harder. My heart is youthful and I eat healthfully, for the most part. Young.

So basically, what I have here is my true age of 31. Maybe slightly older for the whole Fleetwood Mac incident. But I'm feeling pretty good right now and know that age is just a number. I know 80-year-olds who could run circles around me. I also know 20-somethings who act like they're 60. You're only as old as you think you are, so how old would you be?

Ian's First Month

2009-01-27T12:16:00.009-05:00

Ava sitting next to Ian during tummy time.

Ian napping.

I was supposed to post this on January 22, when Ian actually turned one month old. But that didn't happen, for the obvious reasons.

Ian's first month was, in my opinion, a very typical first month for a newborn. He ate. He slept. He pooped. A lot. We brought him home on Christmas Eve (thank goodness Santa was prepared!), and the first couple of weeks were good, with the exception of him getting his days and nights mixed up for 4-5 days. The first week or two at home is relatively easy if you ask me because babies sleep so much. Ian woke up to eat and then went back to sleep immediately after a good burp. We had to wake him for most feedings. This was great because it allowed for Stefan and I to give some extra TLC to Ava, who still really didn't get what was actually happening to her world. Things got significantly more challenging for us when Ian hit two weeks and started spending a considerable more amount of time awake. We were instructed by the doctor to keep Ian at home with the exception of doctor's appointments until flu season passed, so one of our biggest challenges has been dealing with the cabin fever - especially for Ava. After a week of being at home and in the same surroundings without any change of scenery, we all get a little crazy. My weekly outings to Walmart, Target and Publix on the weekends are treasured errands and I am sure to take Ava with me. Stefan understands my predicament and offers to watch Ian so us girls can get out of the house for a few hours. Although it's just Target, it is incredibly refreshing to just be out and about.

Ian is gaining weight very rapidly. I'm not sure what he's up to now, but my guess is about 8 pounds. He hit a growth spurt at 2 1/2 weeks, but it doesn't seem like he's ended it. He just keeps eating and eating and eating. Right now, he eats 3 ounces every 2.5 hours (every 3 at night), and this is a lot more than what an "average" baby his weight eats. They say babies should eat about 2 to 2.5 ounces for every pound in a 24 hour period. This means Ian should be eating about 16 - 20 ounces every 24 hours, and that's if he weighs 8 pounds (and I'm not sure he does). But he's taking roughly 25 - 27 ounces a day. He'd probably drink more if I let him. Stefan very graciously gives Ian his late-evening bottle so I can get a shower and a jump start on some sleep. Even with two middle-of-the-night feedings, I am still able to get about 6 hours of sleep, which is awesome in my book. We are experimenting with different strategies to see if we can get it down to one middle-of-the-night feeding, but so far, nothing has worked. He's just so hungry, but his little tummy can't handle more than 3 ounces at a time. Unfortunately, I was unable to continue breastfeeding beyond the first two weeks. It was very difficult for me to let that go because I really enjoyed it and Ian seemed more content with his meals when he did nurse. Plus, it was cheaper! But I found that we were beginning to go down the same path with Ian that we did with Ava. I nursed Ava for 5 months, but it was a horrible struggle for both of us and a lot of things got better with Ava once we switched her to formula at 5 months. So when I saw the same things happening with Ian, I immediately switched to formula. I wish I could say I have no regrets about it, but I do. I really wanted breastfeeding to work with Ian. But he's fed and nourished, so I have to get over it.

The only major frustration I have right now is diaper changes. Those of you with boys already know what I am talking about. We can't go one day without at least one or two clothing changes due to accidental squirts. As streamlined as we've made the diaper-changing routine, we can't seem to escape the day without one complete wardrobe change. We've tried everything. Pee-Pee Tee-Pees don't work. Yes, they prevent mom and dad from getting a face full, but they don't prevent Ian's clothes from getting drenched. We tried using some gauze pads when we were caring for Ian's circumcision, but he soon started to leak right through those. We even tried washcloths, but those didn't work for two reasons: 1) they were large and interfered with us cleaning the rest of his bum and applying diaper rash ointment, and 2) he eventually started to leak through those, too. When we start a diaper change, it is a race against the clock to see if we can get his old diaper off, his bum cleaned and dried, and a fresh layer of diaper cream (or tush paste, as we here in the Blum home refer to it) applied before he pees. We are usually successful, but those one or two times a day that we're not, it's very frustrating. Especially when one of those times is during one of his middle-of-the-night changes. Anyone with advice, please chime in.

Ian is focusing on my face and objects that are held in front of him. He can hold his head up briefly if I have him on my chest or on the floor for tummy time. He HATES being naked for any period of time, which makes bath time not so much fun. Speaking of baths, we give him his baths every three days in the evenings. Sometimes, if we miss a day, we'll give it to him the following morning and Ava "helps" by standing next to me on a chair and swooshing the water around in the bath tub. He's had a little infant acne and a slight issue with cradle cap. He still wears covers over his hands because he is violent with them when they go uncovered. If I leave his hands free for five minutes his face is scratched to pieces. I hope this ends soon. He loves his pacifier and his swing. As a matter of fact, I can't keep him in his swing for longer than 10 minutes unless I want him to go to sleep. He loves being held. I want to eat his feet they are so adorable.

Ava wants nothing to do with him for the most part. She does talk to Ian on occasion, but it's from a distance. When he cries, Ava says, "OK, baby." As in "It's OK, baby." When she goes to bed, she says, "Night-night to baby." When she sees him, she says, "Hi guy!" And when Ian sneezes, Ava says, "Baby sneezie!" Otherwise, she avoids him. Ian had his picture taken on Sunday for his birth announcement, and although we tried several times to get one of Ava and Ian together, we couldn't get her close enough to him for a decent shot. I hope this changes over the next six months, or family pictures are going to be impossible. One afternoon last weekend, Ava woke up from nap and I went in to get her. I put her down in her room and expected her to play for a minute while I put away her laundry. After a minute, I realized she was gone. I went looking for her, and found her at Ian's crib, talking to him through the bumper. He was sleeping, but Ava was having a conversation with him. It was a funny and sweet moment - the beginning of the brother-sister bond.

There are days when I don't get a chance to go to the bathroom until 4 p.m. There are days I forget I have a dog. There are days when I feel like Super Mom and others when I feel like the most incompetent woman in the world. There are days when a meal is a luxury. There are days when I am so exhausted it is physically painful. But I try to love the adventure and memorize the moments before they pass. Sometimes I catch myself trying to memorize the pitch of Ava's laugh or the pitiful squeal of Ian's cry. They will grow up too quickly. I will do my hair and wear makeup again. I will dust off the skinny jeans and eat at restaurants again. But I will never have this again. So I am trying to enjoy this time.

"Sennay," And Other Ava Pronunciations

2009-01-23T08:25:00.007-05:00

Ava has developed quite the vocabulary and is talking a mile a minute these days. Unfortunately, Stefan and I are not very fluent in Toddler Speak, so more often than not we're left scratching our heads and asking each other, "Did you get that?" But when we can understand her, we giggle at her versions of words and phrases. Below are a few of her favorites, and their pronunciations. I'll try to post more of them as I think of them or as she says them.

Sennay = seven
Ava walks around the house counting everything in tens. I think she gets that from me because I also have an annoying counting habit. I count everything from steps to stairs to stirs with a spoon. Every time I walk up and down the stairs, I count to 16. I hate it, but it's natural for me to do it. And now I see Ava doing it too. Maybe she is my child, after all. She pronounces each number perfectly, with the exception of seven. But her version is so adorable I can't bring myself to correct her.

Eye-gyoo = igloo
We have an alphabet magnet puzzle book my mom got for her for Christmas. Each letter is followed by an object, as in "A is for Apple." The object for the letter I is igloo. Right now, it's Ava's favorite word. And mine.

Suh-wide = slide
She says this two-syllable word with such enthusiasm. One day while playing with Ava's large blocks, we built a slide for her Little People Farm Animals to go down. Ever since, Ava has been addicted to building slides or finding slides throughout the house for her animals to go down. For example, Ava's crib has side rails that curve down toward the front. Well, now that is a slide for her stuffed bunny. She just loves slides. Loves them! Every time we get her blocks, the first thing she does is build a slide. And she can't even so much as touch a block without first retrieving her animals to have at the ready!

Dinnee = dinner

Wunsh = lunch

Pihwer = pillow

Mee-now = meow

Muck = milk

Tay Tow = thank you

Pootie = purple

Jamoose = jammies (pajamas)

Wosheen = lotion

Turlull = turtle

Hup = help or hop; it's impossible to distinguish between the two.

Buhwett = barrette

Bwush = brush
This is an improvement from "beesh," which was her pronunciation just a few months ago.

Ann-nay = Annie

Ann = Ian

Dah-yee = daddy

Dapper = diaper

Hum = home

Fadder = father
Said as she listens to Stefan and I pray.

He Hears Ya!

2009-01-19T12:40:00.002-05:00

Ian went to see the ear nose and throat specialist last Friday, and I am thrilled to report he passed the tests in both ears with flying colors. The left ear was the only questionable ear, but she tested the right ear too, just to be sure. She first tested the left ear by inserting a probe into the ear canal and sending signals into the ear. She waited for the ear drum to send a signal back and that's all there was to it. She tested the left ear three times, just to be sure everything was OK, and then she tested the right ear. The doctor said the reason he didn't pass the first time is probably due to amniotic fluid and/or vernix that was in his ear after birth. Or, it could have been a faulty probe. Either way, I'm just glad he passed and all of that is behind us. A complete bill of health for our little man, thank God. Another answered prayer!

January 17, 2009: Ian's Due Date

2009-01-17T12:23:00.003-05:00

Today was my original due date with Ian. It seems like forever ago that he was born, although it's only been 3 weeks and 5 days. We fought for every second of that 36 weeks and 2 days, baby boy, and we are so glad you are here, healthy and thriving. Praise God!

Part of me is having a little difficulty with things right now. It's hitting home that I will never be pregnant again. That I will never again experience the thrill of watching a home pregnancy test turn pink. That I will never again feel the flutters and kicks of a fetus inside of me. That I will never again experience the sight of a new life being brought into this world. My heart hurts a little with these thoughts. Stefan and I originally wanted three babies, but after this past pregnancy experience, we decided two is enough. Two beautiful, healthy babies, and I am nothing but grateful for that. It's just that I never got to experience a "normal" pregnancy, and I have to let that go. I was never able to get maternity portraits or wear super-cute maternity clothes while bopping down the street at 7, 8 or 9 months pregnant. I never got to experience pregnancy along with my sister, who is due this March. We don't even have a picture of the two of us, in all our pregnant glory. Pregnancy was not a good experience for me - either time - but the end results have been nothing but perfect, so I have to just let pregnancy go and relish in my babies' health and beauty. Because they are healthy. And because they are beautiful. I kind of hate myself for being so bitter about pregnancy when I have two great kids. I guess it's all relevant.

This morning I was driving to Target with Ava in the back seat. We were listening to some music, and I thought for a moment about my life. On past Saturday mornings, I would get up late, shower, spend an hour getting dressed and doing my hair and makeup. I would go out for lunch at a new restaurant and spend the day shopping and doing things at my leisure. Today, I was going to Target. Boy, how things have changed in just a few years! If I met me now, I wouldn't even know me! I can't tell you the last time I went to a mall or specialty boutique. But you know, I love my life. I wouldn't trade the diapers and bottles and Baby Einstein videos for anything in the whole world. I love my home and my world. I love my babies and my husband. I love my friends and my family. I love it all, good and bad. I think that's how you know you're truly happy in life: when even the hard moments don't affect your view on your life. And I've got a great view from here. I look around me and can only smile.

Finding Balance: Striving to Get Out of My Pajamas

2009-01-15T12:57:00.006-05:00

Thank you, Lord. Stefan's week-long business trip to Malaysia, originally scheduled for next week, was canceled yesterday. The company put a stop to all travel for a while. I know Stefan is a little disappointed because he was looking forward to his first trip to Asia, but I, on the other hand, am thrilled. This trip was the source of a lot of anxiety for me; Ian is only three weeks old, after all. It's not that I was stressed about caring for two babies on my own. These past couple of weeks I have pleasantly surprised myself with how well I can manage both kids, the house and myself. What had me stressed was: 1) Stefan traveling half-way around the world, and 2) My ability to go 7 days straight without a break. Stefan is such a huge help to me in the evenings and on weekends that I was mostly concerned about my stamina more than anything. Single moms, I don't know how in the world you do it.

So far, I have been proud of the job I've been doing since Stefan's return to work. We've gotten ourselves into a little routine, and each day, both kids are dressed, fed and happy. I spend lots of "special time" with Ava while Ian naps. We color, play with Play-Doh, or make food in her kitchen. Sometimes we split a small portion of candy, just the two of us. Granted, the dishwasher may not get emptied or the toilets may not get scrubbed, but I'm investing in my daughter so that she knows how special she is and that Ian is an addition to our family... not her replacement. I think Stefan and I have done a good job of making sure Ava feels extra loved during this time of transition.

Each day, I strive to add something else to the day. Both kids may be well fed and dressed, but I am still in my pajamas and snacking on cookies. It's all about balance, and I strive toward that goal everyday. For example, yesterday I took the kids to my sister's for a couple of hours. It was a good way to get Ava out of the house and me in a better frame of mind. Ava got to play with other kids and I got to be social. Maybe tomorrow I'll put on something other than pajamas. Hair and makeup come next. Pretty soon, I may start to look human again! Well, maybe after a brow wax.

Ian has settled into a quasi-routine, for now. He eats every two hours during the day and every three hours at night. This means I am up twice to feed him: at 2 a.m. and again at 5 a.m. I think this is pretty reasonable for a three-week-old, and the good news is he eats, burps and goes right back to sleep. Shhh, don't tell him, but I kind of enjoy those feedings. He just looks up at me as he drinks his milk, and the house is quiet and dark. It's just the two of us, and he drifts back to sleep in my arms. It's nice, but I'm glad it's not forever. Ian has been having more awake periods, and he loves his swing. He spends most of the day downstairs with the family. We have a Baby Papasan that he sleeps in and hangs out in. That thing paid for itself in the first week. He goes upstairs to his crib for one nap a day - when Ava is also napping. He also sleeps all night in his crib. We're trying to be consistent with his sleeping places so that he begins to associate his crib with extended sleep periods and the papasan with shorter naps.

"Enjoy Him."

2009-01-11T16:43:00.010-05:00

Our little man is three weeks old today. At his two-week checkup last week, he had grown to 5 pounds 12 ounces, but I'm willing to bet he is over 6 pounds by now. He hit a growth spurt and has been eating everything in sight ever since. Just when I think he couldn't possibly be hungry, he chugs another 2.5 ounces. I don't know where he's putting it! At least he's gotten his days and nights figured out. I do need to take him to an ear, nose and throat doctor this Friday because he did not pass his hearing test in his left ear. The right ear is fine, but the left ear just wouldn't take. The doctor thinks it is just because the probe they used was too big for his ear canal, but just be safe and sure, he needs to see the ENT.

After three weeks, I am quite frustrated with myself over my stress levels with Ian. When my counselor from the high-risk pregnancy support group I joined while on bed rest learned I had delivered Ian, she wrote to me a nice note of congratulations, and at the end of her note, she closed with, "Enjoy him." Enjoy him. Right. I almost forgot. Between worrying about his hearing, eating, pooping, sleeping and everything else, I have completely forgotten to enjoy this time. Yes, it's stressful, but it's also wonderful, and it's a time I will never, ever experience again. Ian is our last, and before I know it, he will be too big to cuddle in the crook of my arm, and that intoxicating newborn smell will be gone forever. Stefan and I have heard nothing but "Congratulations!", but I have forgotten that this is supposed to be a joyous occasion. Dammit I hate myself for being such a worrier. He's here. He's healthy. That's all I wanted. And now the worry has shifted. I guess that's why I'm a mother. So I am trying to enjoy him more. This morning I put him on the floor for some tummy time and I lay down in front of him. He tried to lift his head slightly but got tired after about 5 minutes. I cuddled with him longer than usual after his feedings this morning, and I had Ava help me dangle a toy in front of his face. I am trying to enjoy the peaceful moments of his middle-of-the-night feedings, even though I am exhausted. Because once they're gone, they're gone forever.

Why I Have the Best Husband in the World

2009-01-09T08:24:00.002-05:00

Last night, I chose to stay up and watch the National Title game instead of catching some much-needed sleep. I knew I would pay the price throughout the night, as Ian is going through a growth spurt right now and is eating every 2.5 hours - even at night. But I couldn't not watch the game. What kind of Gator fan would I be if I chose sleep over football? It would be a shame, really, so I sucked it up, watched the game and saw our boys win a second national title in three years. Go Gators.

As expected, Stefan and I crawled into bed a little after midnight, and as we were drifting off to sleep, Ian's cry came. It was mealtime. Having gotten no sleep so far, I suddenly started to wish I had chosen sleep. But then something happened that I will never, ever forget. My husband said in the darkness, "Don't worry about it honey. I am still keyed up from the game, so you get some sleep and I will feed Ian." Oh. My. Goodness. So Stefan got up and left me to three hours of blissful slumber. Of course, the 3:30 a.m. feeding was still difficult, but had I not gotten that initial sleep, it would have been impossible. But for Stefan to take Ian's 12:30 feeding was a dream. Honey, I know you read this blog on a daily basis, so thank you so very, very much. It meant the world to me. As do you.

Go Gators!

2009-01-08T10:49:00.005-05:00

Here's to another BCS Title tonight!

We are the boys from old Florida.
F-L-O-R-I-D-A.
Where the girls are the fairest,
the boys are the squarest,
of any ol' state down our way.
HEY!
We are all strong for old Florida.
Down where the ol' Gators play (GO GATORS!).
In all kinds of weather,
we'll all stick togetherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
For F-L-O-R-I-D-A!
WOO!

Nightshift

2009-01-04T21:41:00.002-05:00

I'm not quite sure how this happened, but Ian has gotten into the habit of being awake and alert for much of the night. It's happened the past two nights, and I'm hoping to reverse the trend tonight. He hasn't been fussy or colicky in the least, but after his middle-of-the-night feedings, he just lays against my chest (or in my arms) wide awake. Last night, he woke up at 1:45 and, with the exception of one half-hour stretch, didn't go back to bed until 6:25. Stefan relieved me of my duties from 4:30 to 6, but otherwise, it was just me, my boy and the rocking chair. He's either gotten his days and nights mixed up or he's not digging the new bottles.

I tried to keep him awake a little more today, but that wasn't easy considering both of us were running on two hours of sleep. And tonight, I gave him a warm bath - his first in a tub - and a nice nightcap. We played some lullabies during his bath and snuggled him all nice and warm. I am getting sleepier just thinking about it. Must. Go. To. Bed.

Stefan returns to work tomorrow (gulp!), and I am a little anxious about managing both kids on my own. Ava has been doing so awesome with the baby, and I don't want that to stop. But I suppose someone has to get back to work in order to pay for all these diapers Ian is plowing through. I am off to try and get some sleep. It may be another long night, and my baby girl won't understand if mommy face plants in the oatmeal tomorrow morning.

Piggy Raid and a Lost Cord

2009-01-01T19:41:00.005-05:00

This afternoon Stefan and I emptied Ava's piggy bank to count its contents. It's something we have planned to do since she was born: take her 2-year savings and start her college fund. So for two years now, we have taken every cent she has received and put it into her piggy bank. This includes gifts for birthdays and Christmases, spare change from mom and dad, and all change Stefan and I received from breaking dollars in the hospital cafeteria while she was in the NICU. During her first two years, Ava managed to collect quite a windfall, and now we'll take this money and invest it for her future education. Stefan has been chomping at the bit to do this for days now, and he finally got his chance. Before he started counting the money, we both wrote down our guess for the total amount, and I am proud to say my (very lucky) guess came within $2.49 of the actual. Needless to say, our little girl has quite the savings built up already.

Ian lost his umbilical cord stump this afternoon, 10 days after birth. I felt the same way I did when I saw Ava's come off: bittersweet. It's the very last part of me that he had with him. I know it's cooky to think of it that way, but it's just me on postpartum hormones. He's all on his own now, growing so fast and creating his niche in our family.

Why Ian Michael?

2008-12-27T12:22:00.002-05:00

With the exception of a very few people (my sister being one of them), we kept the name a secret this time until baby's big debut. With Ava, we weren't shy about sharing the name at all. As soon as we decided, we let the world know. This time, it was different, and we're not sure why. We just decided to keep it close to our chests. But now that he's here, a lot of folks are wondering why Ian Michael? Where did that come from? I'm not sure if that should be translated into what-in-hell-were-you-thinking, but we LOVE the name and have come to adore it even more as we've gotten to know our little bundle. There are several reasons behind his name, and most are intentional. But there are a few coincidences that we weren't aware of until after we chose his name, and that just makes it even better. And just to clarify, it's Ian as in E-an, not Ian as in Eye-an.

1. Ian loosely translates into "God is gracious." And boy, is He ever!
2. Ian is Scottish for John. Neither of us are Scottish, but John is one of Stefan's favorite books in the bible.
3. Ian is not a very popular boys name right now.
4. Ian is short, but two syllables, so this fulfills two criteria: it has two syllables to go with a one-syllable last name, and it is short enough that you can't form a nickname from it (Stefan is not a fan of nicknames and to this day still prefers to call me Jacklyn).
5. We love the way it sounds.
6. Ian is a good boy's name, but it is also a good adult name, so it will grow with him. Just like Ava's name will grow with her.
7. Ian is one boy's name that doesn't ring a bell to Stefan. He knows no one with this name, and therefore couldn't shoot it down with the classic "I knew a guy once with that name, and he was a real jerk, so no way are we naming our kid that."

As for Michael, there is no rhyme or reason to it. It sounds good between Ian and Blum.

Ian's First Doctor's Visit

2008-12-26T22:19:00.003-05:00

Ian had his first visit with the doctor this morning at 4 days old. He is continuing to do very well, and his weight was 5 pounds, 1 ounce, which is the same weight he was when we were discharged from the hospital. After losing only one ounce since birth, the doctor said it looks like his weight has stabilized and we should start to see a gain from here on out. Great news for our little guy! His umbilical cord and circumcision are healing well and on schedule, and he is not showing any signs of jaundice. All good things! His next appointment is at the 2-week mark, and until then, we just keep on doing what we're doing. I am most happy with his minimal weight loss, which is proof-positive that the nursing is going well.

I continue to get very little sleep, as the nursing is very taxing and time consuming. It is working for now because I have Stefan home to help with Ava and household chores, like washing dishes and laundry. The real test will come when he heads back to work. If I collapse under the strains of breastfeeding while trying to care for two children and maintain a home, I will switch to formula without hesitation. I think I am averaging about 4-5 hours of sleep a day, with my longest stretch being a two-hour nap during the afternoon when Ava is napping and the baby is sleeping.

I still can't believe the baby is here. Just this afternoon, I walked into our guest bedroom, where my contraction monitor and terbutaline pump still sit, completely idle. I saw them and it was a very strange feeling. Ava continues to be an absolute angel around the baby. She says hi, bye-bye and night-night to the baby, and when she touches him, she gently strokes him. I know the downfall is coming, but for now, we are enjoying the honeymoon period.

Thank You

2008-12-23T11:11:00.003-05:00

Stefan and I owe an enormous amount of gratitude to so many people for so many things. These past 9 weeks have been such a challenging journey, and now that it's over, we don't really have time to catch our breaths because a new (more wonderful!) journey has begun. But for now, we just wanted to thank everyone for their thoughts and prayers during this time. We were on countless prayer chains and a part of so many daily prayers. So many of you thought of us and cheered us on. Whether you prayed, thought of, or cheered, thank you. God has poured on us with so many blessings that we aren't quite sure how to deal with all of the goodness in our lives. Our prayers were answered, and we want you to know that you were a part of something truly amazing.

Ian is doing incredibly well for his second full day of life. His APGAR scores were 8 and 9 - AMAZING! He came out with a scream and I was never so happy to hear a cry in my life. They placed him on my belly and Stefan was able to experience his first umbilical cord cutting. Ian has stayed with me in my room, which has been a treat, but the nurses did keep him in the nursery from 1 - 6 a.m. this morning so I could get 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep after more than 48 hours without a wink. His only "hiccup" has been feedings, which he was spitting up a lot of. But today he has only had wet burps. We are supplementing with a "sensitive" formula until we can get the hang of nursing, and overall, it's a whole new learning experience for both of us. Everything with Ava was so different. I'm a first-time mom all over again. It's going to rock our world when we take this little man home tomorrow!

Introducing Ian Michael Blum

2008-12-22T10:18:00.006-05:00

Ian Michael Blum
December 22, 2008
2:12 a.m.
5 pounds, 2 ounces
19.5 Inches

30 Minutes or it could be a few hours - ?

2008-12-22T01:15:00.002-05:00

Dad's back. Jackie indulged me in a cat nap. I awoke to the noise of staff and a baby check. Jackie is now at 7 cm dilated and the baby is now "very low." In OB terms that means - it could be 30 minutes or it could be a few hours. And we thought weather men had easy jobs! Don't laugh that attempt at humor wasn't really funny.

So, with this new info you can expect that the next post well be delivery news.

Water Broke

2008-12-21T23:01:00.002-05:00

At 10:55 the midwife broke Jackie's water. Baby looks great on the monitors. Next door delivered and the poor lady stop screaming. We are not too far behind - with delivery.

The Woman Across the Hall

2008-12-21T21:38:00.002-05:00

There is this poor woman delivering across the hall from me right now and she is screaming bloody murder. Even through closed doors and a blaring TV, we can still hear her screams. Why don't they make delivery rooms with sound-proof walls?

It is 9:30 p.m. and I have dilated one more centimeter. Three hours of labor to go one centimeter, from 4 to 5. Boy, talk about two totally different labor stories. I've had one round of antibiotics for the Group B Strep, and my midwife Mia said after about one more hour she will break my water if it hasn't ruptured on its own. They like for the antibiotics to be in my system for 4 hours before delivery, and 11 p.m. will be that mark. Once my water is broken, labor will progress much quicker.

I am tolerating the contractions pretty well right now, but my lower back has been killing me. Thank goodness for husbands who can give amazing back rubs! We are watching Sunday Night Football right now, and we just got done watching A Christmas Story on DVD. I am starving because I haven't eaten anything since 1 p.m.

It is for real!

2008-12-21T18:38:00.002-05:00

Well we are here. Jackie is in the early stages of labor. Four cm dilated, IV in, medical staff at the ready. I think we knew right away when we entered the room. In the past we have been admitted to a small, cozy room with lots of character. In real estate terms that translates to a dungeon. Not this time, no this time the room is fabulous. Okay, so it is as fabulous as a hospital room can be. It is about the size of our living room, not a closet. It is new, clean, decorated, lots of space and a bench for me (dad) to sleep on. Although I highly doubt I will see any sleep tonight.

Jackie has asked me to post so I will. At least that was what we agreed to on once we agreed on the difference between labor and delivery. Labor - I'll post. Delivery - I won't.

Thirty-six weeks and one day. Today is one of the best days of the year for me since it is the shortest day of the year and from now on the days get longer. Soon I will have another source of sunshine.

Is This for Real?

2008-12-21T15:53:00.002-05:00

The cramps haven't gone away. The doctor wants to see me, although neither of us feel this is true labor. It is probably a false alarm, although with my history, it's not worth the risk. So here we go. Is this it???

Labor? Well that didn't take long.

2008-12-21T11:58:00.002-05:00

36 weeks and 1 day.

We made it to 36 weeks! Our goal! Now I can be excited for the baby's arrival instead of scared. I can embrace labor instead of trying to stop it. I can forget about having another preemie and focus on counting down the days until we have a new bundle of joy to hold and cuddle. Life is good.

One other thing that makes me happy about being 36 weeks pregnant is the "graduation" to the highest check box level on the hospital admission form. When I have gone to the hospital these past few months and completed the initial admission form at the front desk, I've always had to mark the "scary" box: 20 - 35 weeks. This basically translates into "Stop the labor!" Now that we can check the 36 week+ box, it means, "Congratulations, you're about to have a baby." I like my new status.

I removed the terbutaline pump last night at exactly 10:06 p.m. This was very scary for me because in a sense it was like turning off the life support. I knew that once I turned off that pump I was on my own. But it was also very freeing. I set the pump on the desk and walked upstairs to bed. This morning I could shower without all of the paraphernalia needed to keep the pump dry. During my final contraction monitoring with the nursing company last night, I had 5 contractions in one hour. That's still one less than my hourly threshold of 6, but way more than I've been experiencing recently. Last night, I didn't sleep well at all, as I was tossing and turning wondering if I was contracting or just cramping. This morning, the cramping has continued, but it's been weird. What I have been feeling doesn't constitute a textbook contraction - lasting 40+ seconds. But these cramps have been coming frequently - every 3 to 4 minutes - and last 10 - 15 seconds. Then they go away and come back. I called my doctor and they want me to monitor them closely for a few hours to see if anything changes in intensity or frequency. If so, they want us to come to the hospital. So I have been laying here for the past 90 minutes evaluating every cramp, twinge and contraction. Nothing is falling into a pattern, but these pesky cramps are still hanging around. Is this the beginning of labor? This would be so much easier if I had experienced labor with Ava.

It's Not Labor, It's Pregnancy

2008-12-18T20:36:00.006-05:00

35 weeks and 5 days.

I feel like I am pregnant for the first time all over again. When I was pregnant with Ava, she came so early that I never had the opportunity to experience all of those late-pregnancy symptoms. And until now it didn't really occur to me that the reason I've been feeling like crap is probably because I'm nearly 36 weeks pregnant and carrying a 5+ pound human being in my abdomen who likes to stretch out to the furthest confines of my rib cage. I just keep blaming my irritable uterus. My stomach is in my throat, or at least it feels like it is. My intestines have stuffed themselves into a 2-inch-square space where my stomach used to be. It's no wonder I end each day with two Tums and a glass of Metamucil. But I'm not complaining... I'm just trying to convince myself that every cramp or pressure is no reason to freak out. It's not labor, it's pregnancy. So I'm learning to cope. Today, I ate a snack every 2 hours instead of three meals, and tonight, I'm not crampy or feeling like I am going to explode.

Baby has been very active today. So active that I wouldn't doubt it if he flipped himself back to breech again. I hope not, but it really wouldn't surprise me. On the positive side, it's great that he's so active. I love feeling him wriggle around inside me. It's one of the very few things I will miss about being pregnant. I have never been one of those pregnant women who can tell what body part is poking me, but it doesn't matter. I'm just the proud mommy who's happy to be poked!

I pre-ordered birth announcements today so that I can get the envelopes early and (hopefully) get them addressed before the baby arrives.

Down, Boy

2008-12-17T20:02:00.003-05:00

35 weeks and 4 days.

Today we had a doctor's appointment with my primary obstetrician, Dr. Jenny Jo. It was a very important appointment because we needed to discuss the possibility of discontinuing medications, bed rest, and potential c-section scenarios. When she walked into the room, she exclaimed, "You're overdue!" I laughed at her joke but wanted to cry. The light is at the end of the tunnel, and I can see it so clearly now. After checking my cervix, Dr. Jo pointed out that the head was down. I was thrilled to hear this, but slightly surprised because in the past week I don't remember feeling the big turn. I had done this exercise a couple of times during the week that is supposed to encourage breech babies to turn down, but I was far from consistent in doing it. I basically got on all fours and stuck my butt as high in the air as I could get it. The buoyancy is supposed to encourage the baby to flip. I don't think I did it enough to make a difference. But sure enough, baby boy's head was down - a quick ultrasound proved it. There's no guarantee he'll stay there, but this late in the game, most babies assume the position and stay there. So Stefan and I breathed a collective sigh of relief and thanked God for one more answered prayer.

Next we talked about medications. The progesterone injection I received yesterday was, in fact, my last. We discussed my terbutaline pump, and I explained how the contractions and cramping have been increasing these past few days. It's obvious that the terbutaline's effectiveness is beginning to wean for the second time. The magnesium sulfate "wash" did its job and bought us another two weeks, but as we approach 36 weeks, the risks of continued terbutaline therapy begin to outweigh the benefits. So Dr. Jo said it was time to stop using the pump and let myself go. We agreed that I would turn the pump off this Saturday, when I hit 36 weeks. Dr. Jo said I could stop the pump today, but I was apprehensive about that because I feel in my heart of hearts that the moment I turn off that pump, labor will ensue very rapidly. It may not, but my goal is to get to 36 weeks, and I am so close. I know I can get there. If I can hold on just a couple more days with the pump, I won't be so scared about removing it. So this Saturday - 36 weeks - I will remove the pump and probably get really anxious about going into labor. But regardless of my fears and anxieties, I have to remember what this really means: it means that we are very close to reaching our goal of delivering a healthy baby boy as close to full term as possible. When I started getting progesterone injections at 16 weeks, this week seemed forever away. And now it's come and gone. Wow. I almost can't comprehend it.

As for bed rest, I am still on it until 37 weeks, or another week and a half. This means I will be on bed rest for Christmas... if I'm not in the hospital. Santa will need to get creative for sure! Ten more days on the sofa. I can do this. Now if I could just do something about the cramps, heartburn and constipation...

The 36th Week

2008-12-16T09:25:00.006-05:00

35 weeks and 3 days.

Each week, I receive an e-mail about the baby's development in the womb. Today, I got my e-mail about what's going on this week... the 36th week. Just like weeks 34 - 35, we've never seen this week. In fact, today, 35 weeks and 3 days, marks the day we brought Ava home from the hospital after spending 3 weeks in the NICU. I can't believe it. I can't believe we've made it this far. I am so happy I could just jump up and down... if I was able to jump up and down. This weekly update provided another source of relief for us, as we learned the baby is mature enough for delivery. Not that I want to deliver this baby today, but if I did, we'd be OK. What a fabulous feeling. Thank you, God!

Your baby's skull isn't the only soft structure in his or her little body. Most of your baby's bones and cartilage are quite soft as well (they'll harden over the first few years of life) — allowing for an easier journey as your baby squeezes through the birth canal at delivery (and less prodding and poking for Mom along the way). The skull bones are also not fused together yet so that the head can easily (well, relatively easily) maneuver through the birth canal. So your little bruiser (who you've now learned won't be bruising you all that much with those soft bones) is now about six pounds in weight and measures slightly more than 20 inches in length. Growth will experience a slowdown now, both so your baby will be able to fit the narrow passageway to the outside and also so he or she can store up all the energy needed for delivery.

By now, many of your baby's systems are pretty mature, at least in baby terms — and just about ready for life on the outside. Blood circulation, for instance, has been perfected and your baby's immune system has matured enough to protect him or her from infections outside the womb. Other systems, however, still need a few finishing touches. Once such notable example: digestion — which actually won't be fully mature until sometime after birth. Why's that? Inside his or her little gestational cocoon, your baby has relied on the umbilical cord for nutrition, meaning that the digestive system — though developed — hasn't been operational. So your baby will take the first year or two to bring that system up to speed.

Yesterday I felt very pregnant. I looked in the mirror and did a double-take at my reflection. I was huge! It was the first time in a long time I felt as pregnant as I am. I am gaining weight - finally - and it looks like baby boy is also packing on some pounds, although I don't think he weighs the 6+ pounds this e-mail says he does.

Daaaaa-deeeeee!

2008-12-15T22:07:00.003-05:00

35 weeks and 2 days.

Still pregnant, thank you God. But today I have felt icky. I have monitored my contractions four times today just because I haven't felt good and can't tell if it's my stomach or contractions. I am averaging about four contractions an hour, and most of the nurses I have spoken with have told me that's pretty par for the course for any woman at 35.5 weeks. But for the past four days, I have averaged only 1-2 contractions per hour. So even though I am on par with other 35 weekers and still well below my hourly contraction threshold of eight contractions, something tells me we're getting closer to showtime. I go for a progesterone injection tomorrow morning.

As if Ava already didn't have Stefan and I wrapped around her finger, she has found another way to melt our hearts and turn us into putty. She has started calling for her daddy when she wants or needs him, using the sweetest sounds to turn "daddy" into an eight-syllable word. "Daaaaaa-deeeee," she'll yell from the living room where she is playing by herself. And she continues to repeat this with consistent tones until Stefan responds. Usually, she wants help with a toy or to take turns drawing on her Aquadoodle. She's even started calling for daddy when she wakes up. No more playing quietly in her bed for a few minutes. She goes right for the jugular... "Daaaaaa-deeeeee!" I can't help but chuckle every time. It is the sweetest thing ever. This little girl loves her daddy, that's for sure.

35 Weeks!

2008-12-14T13:40:00.003-05:00

35 weeks and 1 day.

35 is my new favorite number. And if baby and I can make it another 6 days, 36 will be my new, new favorite number. The baby's suck-swallow reflex should be mature by now, and his lungs are continuing to get stronger. By this week, the books say he should be around 6 pounds and 21 inches long. I'm not sure he's quite that big, but if he's over 5 pounds at this point I'm happy.

I am feeling fantastic - fewer contractions, less cramping, bigger appetite, improved state of mind. Ever since my doctor told me I could begin easing myself off of bed rest, I have been feeling so much better all around. The baby has been very active, but I'm not sure he's turned down. And as much as the nesting instinct has kicked in, I think I've done a good job of controlling myself and limiting my activity. I've helped put up a few Christmas decorations, and I helped Stefan clean up the playroom last night. Otherwise, I've been sitting or laying on the couch. It's also been nice eating meals at the table with the family.

Christmas is just 11 days away, and this morning I asked Stefan if he thought the baby would arrive before or after Christmas. He said before, and although there isn't much time between now and Christmas day, I can't help but agree with him. I suspect we will darken the hospital's doorstep within hours of being taken off the progesterone and terbutaline, which could be this week. Those two drugs are the only things keeping me together at this point, but we'll see.

We have been reading to Ava a book about becoming a big sister, and every time Stefan or I mentions the word "baby," Ava pats her belly. We ask her where mommy's baby is, and she pats my belly.

The nursery is almost complete, thanks to Stefan, my sister and Bo. We still need to hang the quilt over the crib and sterilize some bottles and pacifiers. I also have some curtains that match the bedding, but I'm not sure if I'm going to hang them. I'd like to, but between rods and valances and everything else, I'm just intimidated by the whole window treatment process. I love the nursery. It's simple, cozy and well-stocked. We're ready for baby, but we prefer he stay tucked inside for at least another week or two.

Tagged, I Think

2008-12-13T13:17:00.002-05:00

I was called out on my friend Lisa's blog to post a picture - the fourth picture from my fourth album on my computer. So here it is. This picture was just taken in June, about one week before we left Utah for Georgia. Ava was 18 months old here, and we were playing at a park near my friend Tracy's home. The fresh boo-boo on Ava's cheek is the result of a self-inflicted scratch during nap time. When I saw this picture, I was amazed at how it was just taken 6 months ago. Ava looks so young! It's crazy how much she's grown in such a short amount of time. Sigh...

So now I think I'm supposed to tag people to do the same thing. Tracy, Stephani, Liz... you're it! Post the fourth picture from your fourth album.

The Crystal Ball

2008-12-12T19:40:00.002-05:00

34 weeks and 6 days.

Being on bed rest these past eight weeks has given me plenty of time to think. This has been a good thing, and this has been a not-so-good thing. I've thought a lot about life, and how simple it truly is. My perspective on what's important has changed dramatically, and my priorities have shifted seismically. I feel I will exit this stage a stronger, more balanced person, which could never be a bad thing. I'm still on a modified form of bed rest, so we're not completely out of the woods just yet. But as we enter "the safe zone," a lot of the same questions I've agonized over these past 50+ days still linger. I can't help but think that if we had known all this time that I would make it to at least 35 weeks, would I have stressed less and enjoyed more? Probably. But even though I have made it this far, I am still fixated on a date. When? When will this baby arrive? When will I go into labor? When, when, when? And then I thought about whether I would really, truly, want to know the answer.

God is the only one who knows. It's His plan, after all. And as a Christian I know His plan is perfect and good. He has that magical crystal ball that I have so desperately wanted to see. I could look into this crystal ball and see everything so clearly, so perfectly. I would see God's roadmap for my life - and everyone else's - and understand how a billion different roads all going in different directions could somehow merge in the very end to create one, seamless pathway to the Promised Land. I would know everything. I would finally know the answer to my "when."

Suppose God allowed me to glimpse into His crystal ball. In an instant I would be able to have all of my questions answered. But do I really want that? I can honestly say no, I wouldn't. I don't want to know when I am going to die, who my children will marry, what I will make of the rest of my life. Because not only would that turn my life into a giant countdown clock, but it would also take away the journey. There's a reason why God doesn't allow us to look into His crystal ball. He knows we're better off without it. He knows we're better off letting Him stay at the controls. I am simply along for the ride, and I will try to take the lessons He's taught me and turn them into something that will bring Him glory - something I probably wouldn't do if I had access to that crystal ball.

I still wonder when. But after thinking about it for a long time, I know I'm better off not knowing anything.

Ava's Two Year Doctor's Visit

2008-12-11T14:56:00.003-05:00

Stefan took Ava to her 2-year well-child doctor's visit this morning, and Ava met her new pediatrician, Dr. Catherine Bowman. It was a very eventful visit, complete with a vision test, and Ava passed with flying colors. As usual, her height and weight gain followed the previous patterns. She is 34.5 inches tall, in the 68th percentile for kids her age. But her weight is only 23.5 pounds, which is in the 9th percentile. Ava continues to be long-n-lean. The doctor told Stefan that if we hadn't told her Ava was a preemie then she would have never guessed. Ava's development is right on par with other 2 year olds, which is a huge relief for Stefan and I. Ava is reciting her alphabet by repeating after us, and she is getting better with her numbers. She loves her colors, too, and knows that orange goes best with blue (we couldn't resist).

While at the doctor, Ava's bunny received a complete exam, too. Bunny got her ears and eyes checked, her heart listened to, and even got a "boo-boo" bandage. Unfortunately, Ava wasn't able to escape without a poke to her thigh. She didn't need any vaccinations, but she did receive her flu vaccination. Stefan said she was a good sport, although if I know my daughter, I know drama will ensue.

Happy Birthday, Ava Lauren

2008-12-09T13:46:00.003-05:00

My sweet, sweet baby girl. You're two!

Exactly two years ago, at 1:34 p.m., you entered the world and changed it forever. I will never forget that beautiful and scary moment. You have grown and changed so much in such a short period of time, that it's hard to believe you were ever so tiny and so dependent and so fragile. You have changed our lives and our hearts - all for the better, and every time we look at you, we see the face of God staring right back at us. You are the most precious gift I ever could have ever received, and I am so humbled that God chose us as your parents. I can only hope that we raise you to bring Him glory and honor.

If the past two years are any indication of what's to come, then I can't wait to share every moment with you. You have brought such a tremendous joy and focus into our lives, and I find it hard to believe that I actually existed before you entered my world. I love having you as my daughter, and I will always love you no matter what.

So happy, happy birthday, Ava. Many more, and may each one be better than the last. We love you so very much.

A Graduation of Sorts

2008-12-09T11:49:00.002-05:00

34 weeks and 3 days.

These days, I have a standard response when people ask me how I'm doing: "I'm still pregnant!" is what I say. Because really, is there anything more important than that? Oh, to be 34.5 weeks. A true blessing.

At my doctor's appointment this morning, I received what may be my final progesterone injection. I still may get one more, but maybe not. My cervix is still holding steady at a beautiful 1.5cm dilated and 2.5cm long, and everything looks good. My doctor instructed me to very gradually begin to rejoin the world of the living. I am still on a very modified bed rest plan, but I am now supposed to sit upright more often now, and I can even take a shower everyday if I want to (instead of every 2 or 3 days). I should sit at the table to eat now (the table!) instead of laying down. The point is that as I get further along, there is concern that the strict bed rest plan I have been confined to can actually do more harm than good. Blood clots become a serious concern, as does muscle degeneration. I still shouldn't lift Ava, and I still can't care for her all by myself, but at least now I can sit up and actually play with her. I couldn't believe my ears. I can slowly start to reclaim my life. I can go upstairs and sleep in my bed. And for the first time tonight - after over a month - I will climb the stairs and see for the first time our baby's nursery. I am almost giddy with excitement. I just hope seeing the nursery doesn't kick my nesting urge into overdrive. The last thing I need to be doing is rearranging furniture and cleaning out the pantry. God, please give me discipline.

In addition to a less-extreme form of bed rest, I also "graduated" from my perinatologist this morning. Appointments with the specialists are no longer necessary, especially since continued poking and prodding "down there" will do little more than agitate things. Besides, what difference does it make how long my cervix is if they won't do anything to prevent it from changing? Is it possible that I can start feeling like a normal pregnant woman? Wow, now there's a divine concept!

Now, of course, I couldn't let go of one concern without grabbing hold of another. Baby boy is still breech, and we're running out of time for him to turn down on his own. There's still a chance for him to do it on his own, but for the first time today, my doctor mentioned the possibility of a C-section. Oh dear. There are some procedures that can be performed to turn him, but there are as many risks as there are benefits associated with them, and there's no guarantee that they would even be successful. We don't need to make a decision now, but within the next week, if he doesn't turn down, we will need to rethink our birth plan. I am trying not to focus on that right now and simply relish in the moment that I am graduating from bed rest slowly but surely. I swear I can hear "Pomp and Circumstance" being played in the distance.

Home and Happy

2008-12-07T19:07:00.005-05:00

34 weeks and 1 day.

I have been home since Friday night and am doing well. My doctor gave me the choice of remaining in the hospital for the duration of my pregnancy, but I was feeling good on Friday and decided to come home. The primary reason for this decision was Ava. Her second birthday this week. Her third Christmas. I would have missed it all if I had stayed. So I came home without regrets and am praying that God gives me a crystal clear sign that it's time to go back to the hospital. Worst-case scenario, I call an ambulance. It's not desirable, but now that we have reached the 34 week mark - the "late-preterm" stage - a lot of the fear has subsided.

A few weeks ago, when I was admitted to the hospital with labor and a dilation, the doctors said they wanted to get me to 34 weeks. Now that I am here (praise God), I want more. I want 36 weeks. But no one knows if we'll make it. Every day is one more day. I am getting very efficient at changing my terbutaline pump syringe, which I do about twice a day. I don't even need the manual anymore. Changing the pump site, however, is a different story. I am not one to get squeamish around needles, but I am so uncomfortable sticking myself with one. It's a very small needle, but it is still a very unnerving experience. I'm getting better at it and only have trouble removing the needle while still leaving the catheter in-tact. Luckily, I only have to do it every 5 days. And if I can stay pregnant, I'll only have to do it two more times before they take me off the meds completely and let me go free!

We gave Ava her birthday present today - an adorable play kitchen. Her official birthday isn't until Tuesday, but with my fragile state, there are no guarantees I'll be here. And it was so important for me to see her little face light up when Stefan brought her downstairs this morning and she saw it for the first time. She loves it and played with it all day. Throughout the day, Ava brought to us imaginary culinary creations and fed us with her toy dishes. Every time we asked her what we were eating, she had the same response: "milk!" I did order a Winnie the Pooh cake from Publix, and we'll have that on Tuesday to celebrate our little girl turning two. I hate that we were unable to throw her a big party this year, but our circumstances just wouldn't allow it. I guess we'll just have to make up for it next year.

All Bullets Fired

2008-12-03T20:17:00.003-05:00

33 weeks and 4 days.

I have been off of the magnesium sulfate for 12 hours now. There are potential harmful side effects for both me and the baby if the mag is used long term, so after 32 hours, they stopped the IV, and restarted my terbutaline pump. I was still having contractions, even on the magnesium, so at this point it's not as much about contractions as it is about what those contractions do to my cervix. They call it a mag "wash" because the magnesium is supposed to wash the body free of all receptors from previous treatments. We are hoping the terbutaline pump will start to work for me again, even if it's just for a little while.

The magnesium sulfate is pretty much the final draw in contraction management. Of course there may be some stronger meds out there, but at this stage of the game, the risk of taking those meds outweighs the benefits. So now we begin maintenance mode... I hold on as long as I can. But the doctors said that if I start showing signs of true labor from this point forward, they will allow me to deliver. There's little else I can do. I find both comfort and fear in that fact, for the obvious reasons.

There is still no clear-cut answer as to exactly how long my stay at Hotel Northside Hospital is going to last. As far as I'm concerned, these are my options:

1. I could be here for the duration of my pregnancy, which could be 1 day or 1 month.

2. I could be here until they take me off all medications - the progesterone and the terbutaline - and bed rest, which will be around 35 weeks, God willing I make it that far.

3. I could be here until I am stable enough on the terbutaline, but at this point, what exactly does "stable" mean in my case?

For the time being, I have officially taken on the role of "Lady in Waiting." I could have our baby tonight, or it could be weeks.

Finding a Way

2008-12-02T12:35:00.004-05:00

33 weeks and 3 days.

I have not journaled in five days. As much as I wanted to blog at least every other day - whether they were good days or bad days- I just couldn't do it. It was too emotionally and physically painful. These past five days I have been a prisoner in my own personal hell. I was discharged from the hospital last Wednesday, Thanksgiving Eve. They set me up with an at-home nursing company contact, a new T-pump and a contraction monitor. I felt pretty comfortable going home, especially with all of the medical paraphernalia, but once I got there, something went wrong in my mind. When do I change my pump syringe again? How do I transmit my contraction data? What if my pump site goes bad and I don't get the meds and I contract and can't get back to the hospital in time? What if I go into labor and don't know it? Thoughts of Ava's very early and very fast arrival started swarming in my head, and all of a sudden I was experiencing a level of acute paranoia and stress that I have never felt before. I woke up the first night home after just an hour's sleep in the midst of a panic attack. I was sick. I was stressed. I was cramping. I didn't sleep a wink the rest of the night.

The next four days were not much different. I was unable to eat. I couldn't sleep without medication. I couldn't speak without breaking down into tears. Family and friends called to offer us Thanksgiving wishes, and I couldn't talk to them. I lay on the sofa, frozen in a state of absolute terror, unable to focus on anything other than my overactive, irritated uterus. I was going crazy. I have been on bed rest for nearly six weeks and I was literally driving myself into a deep depression. I tried to distract myself by coloring with Ava or watching sermons from our church on the computer, but nothing worked. I spent hours on the phone with doctors, midwives and nurses, asking them a million questions. I could feel them all rolling their eyes at me on the other end of the line, as if to say, "Oh, it's you again." All-in-all, I was doing a horrible job at trusting God. One of my OBs told me I have post-traumatic stress disorder, meaning my experience with Ava was causing this life-seizing anxiety. She referred me to a psychiatrist at Emory University. This doctor apparently specializes in pregnancy-related mental health, so I called him yesterday to make an appointment. I left a message and haven't heard back.

Yesterday (Monday), things were different. Starting late morning, I was contracting more than usual, and started monitoring them. My at-home nurse called to let me know I had six contractions in one hour. Six contractions is the maximum number I am allowed to have according to my doctor, so I immediately gave myself an extra bolus of Terbutaline and also increased my basal rate. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening on the monitors, giving myself 4 boluses in 8 hours. Nothing was changing. At 8:30 p.m., I called the doctor and they told me to come to the hospital. For the first time in five days, I felt relieved. We took Ava to my sister's house (again), and made the 40-minute drive to the hospital. When we got here, my contractions were getting closer together, and eventually climaxed at every two minutes. The midwife checked me, and remarkably, my cervix was still just 1-2 cm dilated. I kept repeating, "I'm so glad we're here." Although I was back in the hospital, experiencing some very painful and frequent contractions, I still felt better emotionally than I had in a week. I trusted God because I asked for a sign - a definitive must-go-to-the-hospital-now sign - and He gave me one. They put me on the magnesium sulfate around 1 a.m. this morning, and my contractions are back down to about five or six an hour. They consider this a victory, and aren't expecting to get them to go away completely. Right now we are just buying as much time as we can, celebrating the fact that I am still pregnant.

An ultrasound this afternoon showed the baby is looking good and is about 4 pounds. My cervix has shortened slightly but is holding steady at 2.6 cm. It was all good news, but left me more confused than ever. How is it that I can have 25 relatively painful contractions an hour and not affect my cervix, yet not feel a thing and deliver a 32-weeker in 50 minutes? And they wonder why I am uncomfortable being at home.

So here we are, baby boy, back in the hospital. The magnesium sulfate has made me feel all the effects of a hangover without any of the fun in partying. Stefan stayed with me throughout the night and all day, but he'll be leaving in a few minutes to go get Ava. I don't know how long I will be here, how long I will be on the mag, or how much more time we have until baby arrives. But I do know that I am eating better, sleeping better and coping better now that I am here. As much as I hate this place. We're finding a way to get to one more day, and those days are turning into weeks.

Give Thanks

2008-11-27T12:13:00.003-05:00

"Oh Lord, who has given us so much, mercifully grant us one more thing - a grateful heart."
George Herbert

This year has been filled with more ups and downs than any other. But regardless of our triumphs and trials in 2008, there are so many things for which the Blums are thankful:

1. God's unwavering mercy, grace and love.
2. Our health.
3. Each other.
4. A still-pregnant Jackie.
5. Stefan's job.
6. The family and friends who surround us with love and compassion.
7. Our troops, who are giving their lives so that we can enjoy the freedom in ours.
8. The food in our pantry, the pillows under our heads, the heat in our home and the clothes on our backs.
9. Ava's laugh.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Letter C

2008-11-25T21:39:00.002-05:00

Stefan called me this evening during the dinner hour to let me know about Ava's latest accomplishment. Tonight, Ava had spaghetti for dinner - something we don't give her often primarily because she's never really cared for it enough to eat a full meal's worth. Well tonight, Stefan gave her a plate of spaghetti, with the noodles cut short so she could eat it easily. According to my husband, Ava picked up a short noodle, and the noodle limped between her two fingers, forming an arch. Ava studied the arched noodle for a second, and then shouted, "C!"

Yes, honey, you're right! That is the letter C. I was so very proud of my little girl, and so very sad that I missed it.

Day Sixteen: Breaking Through

2008-11-25T20:06:00.002-05:00

32 weeks and 3 days.

Today has been one of those days...

It all started this morning when I had a bad dream. Catering brought my breakfast tray into my room around 7:15 a.m. as usual, and it's at this time that I usually go to the bathroom, put my contacts in, brush my teeth, turn on the TV and start my day. But this morning, I let myself drift back to sleep, and that was a huge mistake. I had the WORST dream ever. I shouldn't be surprised. It's always the early morning dreams that are the weirdest. I dreamed that I was on the fetal monitor, and the nurses found a heart irregularity with the baby. His heart rate would be normal and then dip way low. It scared me to death! I was awakened at 8:30 by the perinatologist who came in to see me. He apologized for waking me up, but I told him that I was thankful he did. Ugh, what a nightmare. And it has stuck with me all day. From now on, I'm rising and shining when that breakfast tray enters my room.

I am getting quite proficient at typing with one hand.

The day hasn't really improved much since my horrible dream. I have been crampy all all day and have been having a lot of contractions and irritability. I am living from terbutaline bolus to terbutaline bolus, and that makes me very uncomfortable, as if I'm starting to break through the meds. It's been nearly 2 weeks since I've started the pump, so it wouldn't surprise me. I have an ultrasound tomorrow morning, and I will be very vocal about my concerns. The doctors are flirting with the notion of sending me home tomorrow, which always sends my emotions into overdrive.

I have been ultra-focused on days lately... how many days left until I reach 34 weeks? 35 weeks? 36 weeks? How far will I go? At what date will I reach these milestones. I am trying to still take it one day at a time, but it's hard on days like today, when I just want to know everything will be OK.

Most of the things we've ordered for baby have arrived. The clothes have been washed, but Stefan told me he's just throwing the piles of clean laundry into his crib and will fold them later.

Day Fifteen: So Sleepy

2008-11-24T18:34:00.003-05:00

32 weeks and 2 days.

For the past two weeks, I have not inhaled one breath of fresh air. From the window in my room, I only have a view of another wing of the hospital, but I am able to tell if it's sunny or cloudy, day or night. It could be 90 degrees outside and I wouldn't know the difference. But I know it's cold because my husband tells me so every time we talk on the phone. I know it was dreary and rainy today, and even though I couldn't really see the weather, it affected me anyway. I was so sleepy today, and so was baby. I napped intermittently all throughout the day, starting at 9:30 this morning! I never napped for long, but I would remember seeing the beginnings and the ends only of some TV shows. Baby has been very mellow today, too. He's given me a few kicks, but for the most part has been snoozing right along with his mama. Drowsiness is also a side effect of my anti-anxiety medication, so pair that with the rain and I was a lazy daisy today! I just hope I can sleep tonight.

Bonnie surprised me with a visit today and brought Ava, Ally and Kelsey. They were returning home from a morning at the aquarium, and stopped by to provide some company for 30 minutes. All three girls immediately fell into character. Ava and Kelsey asked for snacks and Ally started asking questions about all of the medical equipment in my room. She wanted to know what my T-pump did, and I told her it was a computer that talked to the baby to tell him to stay in my belly as long as possible. Ally is a very smart little girl. She was so concerned about my health and the baby (at 5 years old!), and all Ava and Kelsey could do was shove Honey Nut Cheerios into their faces. It cracked me up. I loved seeing all of them.

Day Fourteen: Getting a Medical Degree

2008-11-23T22:30:00.002-05:00

The past day-and-a-half have been lovely. Contractions have been few and far between. Irritability has been light. Things were mellow for a while. But I know better than to think for a second that things will stay that way. I was quite crampy this afternoon and this evening, with a whole lot of pressure on my cervix, as if the baby was trying to push his way out. But because I'm not really contracting, no one seems to be concerned.

The baby could be laying funny.
Maybe I just need a bowel movement.
Maybe it's another infection.
It could be the nasty Metamucil and Ensure supplements they have me chugging several times daily.

It's anyone's guess, which means I'm left to diagnose myself. Because no one around here seems to think anything's wrong unless contractions are 8 minutes apart, I feel like I'm the one that has to pull the fire alarm. When Ava came, I never had serious contractions. My water broke, and moments later, she was here. I may not be a doctor, but I know that major things can happen without contractions. Medicine is a science. But I am a mother. And I know.

The crampiness and pressure has subsided for now, but I'm still not completely convinced that something didn't happen when I was.

I have been listening to a lot of James Taylor and Enya.

Day Thirteen: 32 Weeks!

2008-11-22T19:30:00.003-05:00

Now we are in familiar territory. Ava was born at 32 weeks and 4 days, so at this point we kind of know what to expect should the baby decide to enter the world. Of course, we are hoping for several more weeks in my belly, but I am thankful for this milestone.

Ava and Stefan came to visit me this morning. Ava loves raiding my snack stash that I accumulate when the snack cart lady visits my room each morning. She always picks a colorful package (this morning it was an apple cinnamon Nutrigrain bar) and brings it to me. I open it, and she chows down. It's become our little ritual. We snuggled as she watched a Baby Einstein movie, she played for a little while, and then they had to leave. For the first time in two weeks, I didn't cry when they left. Maybe it's because I'm getting stronger. Maybe it's because they'll probably be back for another visit tomorrow. I wish it was the former, but it's probably the latter.

Today has been a relatively good day. Contractions and irritability have been fairly quiet, but we're about to enter the critical evening hours, when my uterus seems to switch into overdrive. I am hoping for a quiet and uneventful night. I am almost done with our Christmas shopping!

Day Twelve Part Two: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

2008-11-21T19:43:00.002-05:00

My emotional state has done a complete 180 since this morning. After receiving some great news this morning at my ultrasound, I have had an afternoon of contractions and irritability. In fact, I've had to get two T-pump boluses (surges) earlier than usual to try and quiet things down. The thing is, I knew this would happen. It's common - even expected - for T-pumps to eventually "fail," meaning that my body will at some point get used to the Terbutaline and will no longer react to it. But typically it takes 2-3 weeks for this to happen, and I have only been on it for 10 days. My basal dosages, as well as my boluses, can be increased to buy more time. But I fear how much more time because once I break through the T-pump, the doctors will need to bring out the big guns. The magnesium sulfate.

I'm so discouraged right now. It seems like every time I make progress, something happens to knock me down. I cry at the drop of a hat because I'm just so scared and emotionally drained. I know God won't give me anything I can't handle, but sometimes I wonder what He's thinking. I just feel so weak. Are other mom's in the other high-risk patient rooms feeling this way? Are they as emotionally unstable as I am? Sometimes I feel like the staff thinks I'm neurotic.

Day Twelve: I'm in it Until We Win it

2008-11-21T11:29:00.002-05:00

My ultrasound this morning went better than expected. With all of the irritability and contractions this week, I would have sworn the doctors were going to find even less of a cervix than they did on Monday. But exactly the opposite happened - there's more! A whole centimeter more (which is a lot in terms of cervical length)! I was giddy. I also got into a little argument with the perinatologist, but more on that in a minute.

I saw my actual, original OB this morning, Dr. Jo. She has been out for a couple of months on maternity leave, and this morning she came into my room to catch up. We had a great discussion, and I immediately remembered why I love her so much. She is honest and realistic, but has this amazing bedside manner. She could tell you some disappointing news, but somehow, you feel OK about it. But the thing I love most about her is that she is confident in what she wants. No wishy-washy-I'm-not-sure-what-to-do-with-you kind of mentality. she knows what she wants for her patients and has no problem following through on it. And because I'm such an emotional rollercoaster right now, I really need someone like that as my doctor. Dr. Jo said that she wanted to keep me here at least another week (until I hit 33 weeks at least) because of my history. (This is where that whole being OK with disappointing news came into play.) I felt a little deflated when she said that, but I also felt very relieved. I've said so many times before that I would love to go home but would be scared to death at the same time.

So after speaking with Dr. Jo this morning, I went for my ultrasound and got the awesome news about my cervical length. One of the staff perinatologists (I see a different one every time I have an ultrasound) came into the room and shouted, "You're cervix looks phenomenal! Let's get you home!" I smiled but said, "Um, OK, but Dr. Jo said she wanted to keep me here at least another week."

Peri: "Why?"
Me: "I'm not sure. She said she wants to make sure I am able to make it to at least 34 weeks and feels I should be here until 33 weeks or so."
Peri: "Well that doesn't make sense. I mean, you can have monitoring at home." (Picture uptight, patronizing woman here.)
Me: "OK. But I'm not a doctor. I don't know what's best here."
Peri: "Well you do want to go home, don't you?" (The bitch!)
Me: "Of course I'd love to go home! But I'm scared to death! My daughter was born around this time and I don't want that to happen again."
Peri: "Well fine then, we'll just keep you here."

She literally stormed out of the room and slammed the door. The tech who did my ultrasound looked at me, smiled gently, and mouthed, "I'm sorry." I heard this particular perinatologist doesn't have children of her own, and I'm thinking her attitude would be different if she did.

The point is, I am completely incapable of making this decision. I cannot say, "Sure, I'll go home!" If I do, and go into hard labor that could have been stopped had I been here, I will never, ever forgive myself. What if I get home and can't get back to the hospital in time? But what if I stay and everything is OK and what I really end up missing is time with Ava and Stefan before the baby arrives? It's an impossible situation. And everyone wants to know what I want. You know what I want? I want a healthy baby boy. I want to not be in the NICU. I want my house in the hospital and the hospital in my house. But I can't have both. But I will say this: I would rather be here in the hospital and pregnant for Thanksgiving than here in the hospital visiting my baby in the NICU on Christmas. I know doctors can't predict the future, but whatever it takes to have a healthy baby is what I will do.

I was talking to my brother-in-law Bo on the phone this morning and he said that this was more of a mental game now. I agreed. It's like running a marathon. After a certain point (or mile marker), it's not really about physical ability as much as it is about mental and emotional endurance. We will make it. We will win this race.

Days Nine - Eleven: Model of Instability

2008-11-20T23:25:00.002-05:00

We made it another three days, baby! Great work. You always perform so well while on the monitor. You stay put for the entire hour so the nurse can hear your heartbeat, accelerations, and movements. Sometimes you think you're so cute by playing hide-and-seek and making the nurses search long and hard for your heartbeat, but they find you every time, eventually. Now, they always have to angle the monitor downward because you've burrowed into my belly. You always get an A+ when on the monitors. Your mommy, however...

There are good days and bad days. Some days I barely feel a contraction, and other days I feel like maybe labor is beginning. The doctors have diagnosed me with an irritable uterus. Actually, I diagnosed myself and the doctors agreed. Maybe I'm the one who should be getting paid.

I am still in the hospital and have another ultrasound tomorrow morning. Some doctors can't wait to send me home, while others imply I'll be here until I get off the medications at 34-35 weeks. I see so many doctors and they all think and say different things. Some think my irritable uterus is of no substantial concern, and others want to try and calm it. Some doctors say my nighttime contractions should be reduced as much as possible with meds, while others say they are normal for this stage of pregnancy. I wish they would just have one, united voice about how to treat me or I will never feel comfortable enough to go home until after the baby arrives.

I miss Ava and Stefan so much.

My Dream

2008-11-19T15:07:00.002-05:00

Last night I had a dream, and I was surprised at how it actually made sense. Usually my dreams are so illogical and bizarre, like the time I was being hunted as a suspect for the murder of Joe Pesci. Seriously, and that's not even as bad as they get. But last night's dream was crystal clear:

I was at Target shopping for the baby. I was wearing my favorite Kenneth Cole black stilettos and my favorite skinny jeans. I don't remember if I was pregnant, but I was shopping vigilantly for the baby - blankets, clothes, swings. I was running around, almost in a panic, trying to get as much stuff as possible. Then, all of a sudden, I remembered I was supposed to be on bed rest. I freaked out because I just knew I was jeopardizing the baby's health with every additional step I took. I abandoned the shopping cart and almost ran to my car, where I got in the driver's seat and reclined the seat as far back as it could go. I tried to lay down in the car, but it was really difficult. I woke up before finding out what happened, and was so relieved to learn it was only a dream.

Day Eight: Not Going Home, Struggling to Find a Solution

2008-11-17T19:10:00.004-05:00

My ultrasound this morning was pretty good. The baby has somehow flipped himself to breech again, but the doctor said he will more than likely flip again before delivery day. Everything measured stable, so I thought I was on my way home today. No such luck. My doctors are still concerned with the number of contractions I'm having, particularly in the evening hours. So they once again adjusted my meds and want to observe me again overnight. It's all so bittersweet. I want nothing more than to go home, but if something's not right, I want to be here. I have spent much of the day in tears of frustration over whether or not we'll find anything that works, or if my doctors will just keep adjusting meds like a science experiment in order to buy just one more day. Eventually, my options will run out and the baby will come when he wants... I just hope it's sometime after 34 weeks.

The dietician here at the hospital has put me on Ensure twice a day to help me gain weight. I am back to shedding pounds, but not because I am not eating, but because the baby is demanding so much right now. He is gaining roughly 1/2 pound a week, and the calories needed to do that are a lot. I am eating again, but not enough for me and the baby. So he gets what he needs (thank God), and I continue to lose the weight. The Ensure is supposed to help get more nutrients to me and the baby, but it doesn't taste very good. I have to get it super cold and then chug it through a straw, tasting as little as possible. I heard Boost tastes better, but the hospital has a contract with Ensure, so that's what I get.

Stefan and Ava came down for a nice, long visit this evening. They had to - I was out of underwear. We had dinner together (Stefan and Ava got McDonald's in the hospital cafeteria and brought it to my room), and Ava had a good time playing with a few spare (safe) objects from around my room. Ava snuggled with me on my bed while she ate some Cheerios, which was one of the sweetest moments of my life. And getting a warm bear hug from my hubby is the better than any medicine that could come in a bottle. I love it when they visit, but it always takes me at least an hour after they leave to calm down and stop the tears. It makes me feel like I am sacrificing the care of one child to care for the other. Some days, my mantra of "This, too, shall pass" doesn't seem to be very effective. Today is one of those days. I hope tomorrow is better.

Days Six & Seven: Getting By with a Little Help from my Friends

2008-11-16T21:07:00.002-05:00

We hit 31 weeks yesterday! I have been fairly stable over the weekend, so pending a good, solid ultrasound tomorrow morning, I may be able to go home. I'm not expecting to be there too long, but the doctors said that's to be expected. They said I will most likely be in and out until I deliver.

This weekend was nice because I got lots of visitors. Stefan and Ava came to see me Saturday morning, and my very good friend Mandy came to see me this morning. I love having visitors because it takes my mind off of everything and also gives me the opportunity to talk to someone other than a doctor or nurse. Mandy brought me some adorable clothes for the baby, as well as some pretty-smelling lotion for me. Sometimes it just takes a little friendship to make everything seem brighter, better, more tolerable.

Baby has been active as usual, although every nurse I come into contact with comments on how low he is. I know he is low. Please don't remind me every 5 minutes. It freaks me out. I have been having terrible bouts of heartburn lately, and I know it's common this late in pregnancy. But I also know that eating while laying down isn't helping matters, either. The nurses always offer me drugs to help, but seriously, the last thing I want is more chemicals raging through my body. I have been eating between 2 and 3 cups of yogurt a day to help fight the effects of the antibiotics. After this, I may never want to look at yogurt again, which is a shame, because I have always liked yogurt. Except for chocolate-flavored yogurt. That's just wrong. Save the chocolate for the pudding.

Ava and Stefan ran lots of errands today to continue preparing for baby's arrival. I miss them so much. Well, I almost made it through the day without crying...

Day Five: Looking Good

2008-11-14T19:09:00.003-05:00

At 7:15 this morning, I was awakened by a knock on my room door. "Mrs. Blum? the nurse asked. Ultrasound wants to see you at 7:30. I have your wheelchair out here in the hall to take you downstairs." That's the one bad thing about being an inpatient... Your appointments are before the office actually opens, so that the doctors can see you before their normal patient load for the day. And that means 7:30, whether you're up and ready or not. I quickly got dressed, brushed my teeth and put in my contacts. I ran a brush through my hair and put a thin headband on. I looked at myself in the mirror and realized the headband looked awful. It was like I was attempting to put whipped cream on a pile of shit. Oh dear. But at least I showered last night and shaved my legs. I was clean, but hardly presentable.

The ultrasound went very well. The baby looks great and is measuring around 3 pounds 5 ounces. There was also signs of improvement in terms of cervical length - it measured 3 cm as compared to the 2.7 cm measurement from Monday. Not a huge improvement, but it's an improvement, and I'll take that any day of the week! The doctors think I am showing good signs of stability, and for the first time in a week, I heard the words "going home." I am still scared to go home, although I know they are fully expecting me to be back in a week or two for the same preterm labor symptoms. That seems to be my pattern. They want me to stay here through the weekend to be sure the T-pump is still working successfully, and then on Monday, maybe I will be able to go home.

Hospital volunteers with an organization called Happy Tails came by my room this afternoon and introduced two furry friends - Gus, a 2-year-old daschund, and Samantha, a 5-year-old terrier. The dogs are very friendly and well trained. They visit patients as a way to brighten their days. Both Gus and Samantha hopped up on my bed and let me pet them for quite some time (the nurse changed my bed immediately after they left). I really enjoyed the visit, although part of me got a little depressed. I know their purpose is to bring some level of happiness to patients, but for me, it just served as a reminder that I am in a hospital, away from my own dog and family. I just hate hospitals, I guess.

Stefan, Bo and Bonnie have spent the past few days preparing the nursery. Bo and Stefan assemble and move the furniture, and Bonnie organizes everything. Yesterday, I shopped for all the baby necessities online. Let's just say Babies R Us and Amazon.com will no doubt make earnings estimates this quarter. But, I feel good knowing we have all we need, at least until I am able to get up and to a store again, which won't be until after Baby Boy arrives. I am sad that I am not a part of the nesting, but I am so appreciative that it is getting done. I can't wait to see it when I get home!

Day Four: Packing on the Pounds

2008-11-13T23:36:00.003-05:00

I've gained 3 pounds in 2 days! Woo-hoo! Now we're moving in the right direction, and I owe it all to my sweetheart of a food service lady, who brings me a Krispy Kreme every morning with my breakfast.

Today was a good day. An 8 on a scale of 1-10. I had very few contractions, so this Terbutaline Pump seems to be working for now. My IV was removed this morning, so I'm on my own to keep myself ultra hydrated. I tweezed my eyebrows this evening because I have given up all hope of getting to a salon before the baby arrives. And although I don't consider myself to be vain, I simply refuse to have the first photographs with my new son feature me with a unibrow. So I plucked away, and feel much better.

I go for another ultrasound tomorrow morning. I am a little anxious for this one because before I was introduced to the glorious T-pump, I was having some pretty serious contractions and a lot of pressure. I just hope and pray nothing hasn't changed or dilated any further.

Every night as I blog, I have been playing lullabies from my itunes for the baby (Tracy, it's the Nicolette Larson CD you gave me - love it!). We both enjoy the soft music, and I think it is helping me sleep. I have been able to sleep well without the Ambien, thank goodness. I am also reading a book called Days in Waiting, which was written as a survival guide for pregnant women on bed rest and experiencing complications. The woman who wrote it endured not one, but two pregnancies where she faced some of the most extreme bed rest challenges I have ever seen. She shares practical advice and tips for moms experiencing bed rest and other complications of high-risk pregnancies. While the tips and advice truly are helpful, the best part of this book for me is helping me to not feel so alone in all of this. I have found myself nodding along with her words, as if she is talking directly to me, about my situation.

The clock just struck midnight. We made it another day, honey. Here's to another! But now, for me, it's lights out.

Day Three: Pumps and Progress

2008-11-12T19:18:00.013-05:00

Today is my third full day in the hospital, and for the first time in all 4 of my visits, no one has spoken a word about going home. Not that I'm anxious to go home, but it's just weird to think I may be here for the long haul. Last night I had another scary incident of pressure and contractions, so I received more Terbutaline injections, which helped a lot. After last night's episode, my doctor and perinatologist decided the Procardia I was on to help ease contractions was just not doing it's job. So I am now on a Terbutaline "pump." the T-pump is essentially a small, portable IV catheter that provides continuous meds. It is put into my thigh, and I don't feel a thing. I am really happy (so far) with the T-pump because I'm not experiencing the roller coaster of symptoms I was with the Procardia. No more waiting to take meds and hoping I don't contract before they kick in. But, I've only had this gadget for about 8 hours, so it'll be a couple of days before we really know if it's effective.

My doctor also put me on an anti-anxiety medication called Adovan. The last thing I wanted was another drug, but I know the stress I am experiencing is most likely making things worse. So my doctor was happy to give me the Adovan and said most high-risk patients need it at some point.

Stefan and I have started celebrating our daily milestones each morning on the phone. "We made it another day!" we exclaim, and then we hope for another. My OB said this morning that our new goal is 34 weeks. Of course, we will hope for longer, but our goal is 34 glorious, healthy weeks. 34 is only 3 1/2 weeks from where I am now, so I am hopeful. We can do it, baby boy! But there are never any guarantees, and we're still celebrating each day as a mini milestone. Day by day.

The baby has been active again today and has several bouts of the hiccups. The hiccups are good, as they are a result of practice breathing, which the baby has been doing for weeks now. I go for my next ultrasound Friday morning.

This afternoon, the hospital's "music therapist" came by and played some relaxing music for me and the baby. Although I found it ti be a bit odd at first, the music she played was incredibly relaxing and helped distract my thoughts for a few minutes. It also broke up the monotony of the day.

And as the highlight of my day, Stefan and Ava came by for a visit this evening. She did the funniest thing while she was here: she found a pack of cleansing wipes I have in my suitcase, took them to Stefan and said, "For poo-poo!" We both about laughed ourselves to death. We also read to Ava a new book we got for her called "I'm a Big Sister!" We're trying to get her ready for the tremendous changes our family is about to experience once the baby arrives and comes home. As if her world hasn't been rocked enough recently...

All-in-all, a good day. But I did still cry at dinnertime. Like clockwork. Thanks SO VERY, VERY MUCH to all of those who are praying for us! We appreciate it and know God hears you.

New Realities

2008-11-11T12:46:00.008-05:00

I am back in the hospital and have been here since late Sunday night. I was feeling this odd pressure and an overall sense of something's-not-right-here, so Stefan brought me back to the hospital, and lo and behold, the midwife said I was beginning to dilate! They were able to put the contractions at bay with a triple shot of Terbutaline, but there is nothing that can be done to make them go away completely. There are a few more "big guns" they can use to help ease contractions, but overall, nothing can be done to stop true labor. The doctors told me that if the baby really wants to come, he'll come, and there must be a reason. Sometimes babies are simply better out than in, although I am hoping for the latter.

Of course, the doctors are hopeful, but several new realities have replaced our original hopes and dreams for this pregnancy. Our original hope of carrying to full term has been replaced with the new reality that we just have to take it day by day from now on. No one knows how much longer I will be able to go before delivering, but we know that every additional day in the womb is a tremendous gift. I still don't know if I'll be in the hospital for the duration of my pregnancy or just until the doctors feel I am stable enough to go back home. As much as I loathe being here, a part of me feels more comfortable being here. We live 40 minutes from the hospital (and that's if we miss rush hour), and my biggest fear is not being able to get here in time should real labor set in hard and fast (as it did with Ava). But I find that I sleep better here, and maybe it's because I know if something goes wrong, I'm already here. The food, however, is not good.

Because my digestive system is still a wreck, even after a week+ of being off of antibiotics, I saw a GI specialist yesterday. (I didn't even know GI specialists existed, and quite frankly, who would want to specialize in that?) As it turns out, I most likely have another infection. This time however, the infection is a result of the antibiotics. Because antibiotics kill ALL bacteria in your body - even good bacteria - your body becomes vulnerable to another infection because nothing is present to kill it. So I am back on antibiotics, this time for a longer duration and a stronger dose. I am not looking forward to the havoc these drugs may cause on my body, but again, if it might help the baby stay in a little longer, bring it on. I am eating yogurt with every meal to help aid the production of "good bacteria" in my body.

I have been crying a lot, mostly because it is one of the best stress relievers for me. When Ava was in the NICU, I cried every night at dinnertime like clockwork. It was as if I was letting out all the stress of the day. I am trying not to worry about what could happen, but that doesn't make it any less scary. Stefan has been my rock, as always, and I am so thankful I have him.

Ava is still too young to understand what is going on, thank goodness. She is saying her entire alphabet now, although we lead her for every letter; she simply repeats after us. She seems to get caught up on the letter F, though, as she pronounces it as a P. But we're getting there. It seems as if her vocabulary increases daily, and I must admit, I love listening to her try to pronounce words. Right now, the word sheep is "peesh." Totally backwards, but totally adorable. She turned 23 months on Sunday the 9th - the countdown to 2 has officially begun! I look forward to getting my alone time back with her. Coloring.
Playing. Running around. Reading stories. I miss it all, but know it is for the best of reasons.

30 Weeks!

2008-11-09T17:29:00.003-05:00

Today we hit a milestone - 30 weeks. Baby's eyelashes and eyebrows are fully developed. He is opening and closing his eyes, and he weighs close to three whole pounds (at least we're hoping he's close to that). We're still 2 1/2 weeks away from the time Ava was born, so there's still a long way to go.

Praying for 36 healthy weeks!

The Queen of Worry

2008-11-08T12:50:00.007-05:00

When it comes to worrying, I will fully admit I invented the concept. Or at least it feels like I did. When things are going wrong, I worry. When things are going right, I worry about how long it will be before something bad happens. It's just who I am and how I'm built. I may see the glass as half full, but then I stress about why it isn't overflowing.

Last night I listened to a sermon by the lead pastor at our new church (thank goodness for podcasts!). Andy Stanley is leading our church through a three-part series about worry, and the timing couldn't be better. At a time when I have nothing to do but lay here and worry, it was nice to hear some great words of wisdom. The sermon completely enlightened me and answered so many of my questions. Andy used Matthew 6:24-34 to illustrate Jesus' teachings about worry, and here's what hit home the most for me: I have done everything I can do to prolong this pregnancy and ensure the best possible health for our baby boy. Now, I need to trust God with the uncertain. With tomorrow. With everything else. I can't see the big picture like He can. I just know that He loves me and will provide for me.

I am getting my weekly progesterone injections.
I have been to every doctor's appointment and ultrasound.
I have gotten the steroid injections to develop the baby's lungs.
I have treated the infections.
I have abided by all bed rest rules and restrictions.

There is nothing more I can do. I have put myself on autopilot... actually, on "Godpilot." Worrying is not going to keep the baby in me for an additional minute. Worrying will not make my contractions cease (actually, stress only makes contractions worse). The sermon made perfect sense and was great therapy. It was also a great precursor to my night. I didn't sleep a wink last night. Dinner did not settle well with me (or the baby), and I spent the entire night sick and stressed. The sickness made me have contractions, which stressed me out. Which made me contract more, which made me even sicker. Which made me even more stressed out. The vicious cycle. I was this close to going back to the hospital this morning, but after talking to my doctor, we agreed that I would stay at home and see if my body could right itself without another trip to Labor and Delivery. I'm still not feeling great, but my condition hasn't worsened. I'm so thankful that I am still at home and not back at the hospital for a fourth time in seven weeks. But it would be lovely to rid myself of this nastiness and feel as good as I have been these past few days.

The baby has been super active. That's always reassuring. But I'm sure I'll figure out a way to worry about that, too. Give it to God, Jackie, give it to God. I'm way out of my league.

Lyrics to My Favorite Worship Song

2008-11-06T08:52:00.006-05:00

The best word I can think of to describe this song is: calibrating. If you'd like to hear it, turn up your volume!

Jesus, Lover of My Soul (It's All About You)

It's all about You, Jesus
And all this is for You
For Your glory and your fame
It's not about me
As if You should do things my way
You alone are God
And I surrender to your ways

Jesus, lover of my soul
All consuming fire is in Your gaze
Jesus, I want you to know
I will follow you all my days
For no one else in history is like you
And history itself belongs to you
Alpha and Omega, You have loved me
And I will share eternity with You

It's all about You, Jesus
And all this is for You
For Your glory and your fame
It's not about me
As if You should do things my way
You alone are God
And I surrender to your ways

Obama Wins

2008-11-05T09:06:00.004-05:00

All of the Blums were fast asleep by the time our nation announced its new president-elect. I tried to stay awake but couldn't keep my eyes open. And given the fact that I have been struggling to sleep at all recently, I decided to give up and just find out this morning. I think the last thing I remember was the NBC crew putting a vinyl overlay in the color of blue over the state of Ohio.

Unfortunately, I was unable to cast my ballot this year. I was so looking forward to voting in such a critical and pivotal election, but bed rest came on hard and fast, and by the time I learned I was confined to my sofa, it was too late to request an absentee ballot. I watched all of the debates, followed each campaign, and weighed all of the issues. I am not a republican or a democrat or an independent. I vote the issues on each election day, and that's something I take pride in. I was very sad not to have the ability to go to the polls, but if I really want to make a difference, I know there is so much more I can do.

I think that regardless of who won last night, the fight ahead remains the same. Americans can't depend on one person to bring our country back to life. And we won't be successful if we continually separate ourselves as republicans or democrats. We must come together as Americans.

Thanks to everyone who voted yesterday. What an amazing right we possess.

A Moment-By-Moment Surrender

2008-11-04T15:24:00.013-05:00

A recent blog post by my very good friend Tracy was entitled "Let Go and Let God." It's one of those truisms in life that is far more easily spoken than lived. Unfortunately, these words never ring more loudly than when were in the middle of a struggle or a trial that sends us to our knees exclaiming, "Lord, please help me!" God wants nothing more than a personal relationship with us. He wants us to talk to Him, to cry to Him, to trust Him. It's the ultimate sign of good faith when you heartfully tell God that you need Him and that you trust Him and His plan. Ever since my pregnancy test showed that beautiful second pink line, I have vowed to let go and let God. It was so much easier to follow through on that vow early in my pregnancy, when everything was going well and the thought of another premature baby was far from thought. Now that I have reached a critical point, and signs of complications are abundant, I have become what I like to call a "Christian Indian Giver." One minute, I give it all to God, because I know He is in control. Not a minute later, I am filled with worry and stress. Was that a contraction? Why am I feeling pressure there? Was that another contraction? Will I go into labor if I drive myself to my OB appointment or take a shower and shave my legs? How is Stefan holding up? How will I be able to celebrate Thanksgiving or Ava's second birthday? Does my sister resent me for asking so much of her? What if after all of this - the drugs, the injections, the bed rest, the ultrasounds, the hospitals - it's still not enough? Then I remember that I gave it to God. And I took it back.

Stefan and I had another OB and ultrasound appointment this afternoon. The doctors say they are "pleased" with how things look now, even though things aren't as good as they were last week, right before I was discharged from the hospital. If the doctors are happy, why don't I feel better? My perinatologist told me today that I have the toughest job of all: to relax and try not to worry. That really is a tall order for me, who has stressed over everything since learning the meaning of the word.

So how do I do it? How do I not stress? The answer is to let go and let God... and to not take it back. The only way I'm going to be successful is to surrender every moment - every 60 seconds - if that's what it takes. Letting go and letting God is not a one-time event. It's an ongoing, moment-by-moment surrender. If I can spend every waking moment worrying, then I can certainly try to spend it talking to God. I think He'd like that.

A Kiss Goodnight

2008-11-03T19:43:00.002-05:00

Every night since going on bed rest, Stefan has brought Ava downstairs so that I can participate in her tooth brushing routine, and sometimes story time. I say my special goodnight to Ava before Stefan takes her back upstairs to bed. As they disappear up the stairs, I have gotten in the habit of blowing her kisses, and tonight, she returned the gesture. She blew me a kiss for the first time. It melted my heart as I have been struggling to cope with Ava's newfound dependence on and favor for Stefan and my sister. Not that I don't love watching Ava become her daddy's girl. It's just that I wish I could still be as big in her life as I was just a couple of weeks ago. I know it's only temporary, but in the meantime, that goodnight kiss was exactly what I needed.

Feeling Blue

2008-11-03T12:46:00.002-05:00

Blue is the word of the day. I've been feeling blue. I'm seeing blue. Lots and lots of blue... but not all bad!

My sister went to Carter's this morning to shop for our baby boys - mine and hers. Because my shopping ability is limited to the Internet for the time being, I asked her to pick out a few essential layette items for the baby. In my opinion, shopping for baby clothes online is next to impossible. Not only is the selection overwhelming, but the prices are inflated, too. So I depended on my sister's good taste (and keen eye for a good sale) to furnish baby's first wardrobe! She brought me a bag full of absolutely precious (in a masculine sort of way) pieces - from sleepers to onesies to his all-too-important coming home outfit. And let me tell you, she did not disappoint. There is so much blue in that bag! Oh my goodness. When Stefan and I learned that we were having a boy, we went through all of the totes of clothes from Ava's first year to see if we could find anything unisex to use for the new baby. We failed. I found white onesies in every size, and that's about it. So until this morning, our little boy was going to be naked, which would have been acceptable until about age 10.

There is a part of me that is angry and sad that I am missing out on preparing for our son's arrival, but then I remind myself that I am doing what I need to be doing right now to ensure a safe, healthy, and as-close-as-possible-to-full-term arrival. I joined a high-risk pregnancy support group last night called Sidelines. It is for moms and families dealing with the challenges of high-risk pregnancies, and they also provide support for moms on bed rest. There are chat rooms, message centers, and counselors who contact you individually to offer support for whatever you're feeling. All counselors and volunteers have endured at least one high-risk pregnancy themselves, so they know what we're going through. I'm looking forward to connecting with other moms who are on bed rest. It's funny... Millions and millions of women are put on bed rest each year to deal with complications during pregnancy. But when you're laying here day after day, you feel like you're the only one.

But right this moment, I seem to have found a cure for my blues... surround myself with piles of it.

The Weighting Game

2008-11-01T12:29:00.003-04:00

It has been wonderful to be home. My cramps have subsided, and in turn, the contractions have decreased considerably. I'm feeling really good! I was able to be here to see Ava get ready for her first-ever trick-or-treat, as well as watch her run around like a maniac for an hour afterward to work off the sugar high. I feel so good that it's difficult to just lay here; I want to get up and help Stefan, who is running circles around me trying to keep the house clean, Ava fed and entertained, and his career afloat. He's Superman.

But being relatively cramp free doesn't necessarily translate into being worry free. My concern now is weight. During the past week or so, the cramps, drugs and loss of appetite have equated to a huge weight loss for me. I am just a mere 10 pounds over my original pre-pregnancy weight. The baby isn't suffering; he will take from me everything he needs to grow. But it's just not healthy, period. I have lost about 10 pounds in a week, so my new career is to pack on the pounds. This is ironic because I am craving salads, not burgers.

Big game today against Georgia... GO GATORS!

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T08:57:00.003-04:00

Ava is a lion this year for Halloween. One of her first animal sounds was a gigantic roar, and she has loved lions and tigers ever since. She isn't a fan of wearing the headpiece, but we were able to keep it on long enough to get a photo. This will be her first year Trick-or-Treating, and we're very excited to see how she does. Despite our efforts these past few weeks, she really doesn't say "Trick or Treat!" very well, but we think her overall adorable-ness will score her a few pieces of candy.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Homeward Bound

2008-10-30T20:32:00.005-04:00

I'm going home! They're kicking me out... literally. The doctor said they needed to keep these rooms available for people who actually need them, and apparently, I don't need to be here. They did a good job of giving me the confidence I need to go home, so I feel better. Stefan is on his way and I should be home in a couple of hours. The bad news is that I won't be able to get my Ambien prescription filled until tomorrow, so I am nervous about a sleepless night ahead. Goodness, I sound like a junkie.

The Facts About the Fetal Fibronectin Test

The doctor explained to me why they are not too terribly concerned about my positive FFn test. If the test comes back negative, the chance of labor starting within two weeks is only 5%. If the test comes back positive, the chance of labor starting within two weeks is higher, but is still just 30%. Which means there is a 70% chance of still being pregnant in two weeks. Based on my ultrasound this morning, plus the fact that I still may have lingering effects of an infection that could make the test positive, the doctors assured me that a positive FFn test is really nothing to worry about... yet.

Tales From the Hospital

2008-10-30T15:44:00.005-04:00

Note: To those who read our blog regularly, please note that in addition to being a way to share family news and events, I am also using this blog as a way to chronicle my bed rest and pregnancy. My apologies if all recent blogs have been emotional or "downers." I promise there will be better days ahead! In the meantime, I'm just trying to make sure I journal the reality of our world so that we always have a way of remembering this time.

Today has been a day of ups and downs. I had a great night's sleep (thanks to Ambien - that stuff rocks!), and my 8 a.m. ultrasound showed that my condition is improving. I was almost giddy with excitement until I got the results from my second Fetal Fibronectin (FFn) Test: still positive. My doctor almost expected another positive test and said he wasn't too concerned, but I was discouraged. The positive test says I'm still a high risk to deliver early. I had a difficult afternoon with cramps and irritability, and the most frustrating thing is that I don't know for sure what is causing all of this upset. Most likely, it is the massive load of antibiotics I have raging through my system right now, but we won't know for sure until next week, after treatment is completed. Until then, I'm baffled. The doctors agree that I am OK to go home, but am I OK to let me go home? Believe me, nothing would be better. But I am so scared. After all, I am still experiencing the same symptoms that brought me here for a second time Tuesday morning. Cramps. Mild contractions. Insomnia (without the aid of Ambien - did I mention that stuff rocks?). We live 40 minutes from the hospital. I know I can't spend the next 8+ (hopefully and prayerfully) in the hospital "just incase," but I can't help but feel very insecure about going home.

Little Notes

Baby Boy has been very active today, doing rolls and somersaults. I wish that I could go back to simply enjoying them instead of stressing so much about everything else.

The USA Today Crossword Puzzle is not easy. The Sudoku isn't exactly a cupcake, either.

Hospital grilled cheese isn't half bad. I'm not saying it's good, but it's not bad.

Daytime TV is beyond awful.

Ambien rocks.

The Hospital: Home Sweet Home, for A While

2008-10-29T16:54:00.002-04:00

Ahhhhh, a computer. Haven't seen one of these in a few days. Email. Internet. A connection to the outside world. Wa-hoo!

I have been in and out of the hospital since Saturday, and it looks like I am going to be here for a few more days. We came in about 11 p.m. Saturday night because I wasn't feeling well and had some cramps and contractions. I stayed for a couple of nights to receive IV fluids and a truckload of antibiotics for 2 infections. I went home Monday evening and had one of the worst nights of my life. I didn't sleep a wink, had horrible cramps and a few contractions. To add to the pain, I was also super stressed out about whether I was just sick or if I was in labor. By 7 a.m., I was almost convinced that labor had started, so Stefan brought me back to the hospital where they told me I wasn't (thank you, God!). The ensuing ultrasound also showed that baby boy is still nestled safely inside. So why am I still here? Mostly as a precaution because of my history of preterm labor. Additionally, the doctors think the cramps and contractions are a result of the lovely buffet of drugs I am currently taking for infections, to suppress contractions and to maintain the pregnancy. So they want to see if my condition improves after the antibiotics have run their course. So here I am. It's the best place for me to be, although I hate being here. I must admit I am an emotional train wreck right now. I mean, not only am I pregnant, but I am on hormone supplements AND away from my family. Come to think of it, I'm surprised I'm keeping it together as much as I am! I keep repeating my motto to myself: "This is temporary. This, too shall pass." And it will.

Stefan and my sister and her family have truly come to the rescue. Once we found out I was going to be in the hospital for a little while, we agreed that the most important thing was to provide as normal of a life as possible for Ava. She still goes to Bonnie's every morning, but Stefan picks her up every afternoon and they spend evenings at home. It is SO HARD being away from them, but again, it's temporary. This whole experience has given me newfound appreciation for America's troops. They spend months, or even years(!), away from their children and spouses. I don't know how they do it, but it must be damn near impossible.

On a lighter note, my sister did bring me a birthday cake this morning, along with a very special visitor: Ava! It was a wonderful surprise. I also got Sex & the City the movie on DVD, so I know what I am going to be doing tonight! Thanks to everyone who called, posted a note on my Facebook page, and sent an email. They really brightened my day!

To the Left, to the Left

2008-10-24T09:31:00.003-04:00

I'm - or shall I say we're - entering day 3 of bed rest, and I'm beginning to wonder about my newfound life lying on my left side. It's best for me to lie on my left side because that allows for maximum blood flow to the baby. So with the exception of an occasional roll-over to give my left side a break, I'm here. Yesterday, I spent the day sorting through some of my recipe files, searching TV Guide online for shows to Ti-Vo because I don't know what's on TV these days. (If it's not college football, CNBC election coverage or Food Network, the TV is off.) I even tried to watch a few episodes of Dancing with the Stars, but I am so out of touch with Hollywood that I couldn't tell who was the celebrity and who was the professional dancer. So sad, I know. I'm also getting quite good at doing lots of things on my left side: typing; eating; drinking (this is more difficult than it seems!); and using my toes to grab extra pillows.

I know a lot of people may think this confinement to the sofa should be a welcome change to a busy mom, but for me, it's been incredibly difficult. This lifestyle is SO not Jackie. It kills me to see something on the floor and not be able to go pick it up. I hate not being able to cook, especially since Autumn is the time I get the urge to whip up batches of my homemade granola and loaves of my friend Mandy's pumpkin bread. But worst of all I know it's hard on my family. Ava has no clue what's going, only that each morning she goes to Aunt Bonnie's for the day and that these days mommy can't do much more than read her a story. I loathe being so dependent on others; it's just not my nature. It's hard to remember that this is temporary, and it's even harder to know if any of this is going to pay off in the end. I can only pray that it does. I know this whole bed rest concept will just take a little getting used to, but for now, I'm having a really tough time adjusting. It's just been a really long time since I've been alone and not responsible for caring for my daughter.

I've completed my steroid therapy to help develop the baby's lungs, but the steroids have been replaced with Terbutaline to suppress contractions. Today Stefan has stocked me with all 6 seasons of Sex & the City (my favorite), and all I will need to do is grab some lunch in a little while. I am really looking forward to the weekend because Ava and Stefan will be here all day!

Temporary Setback

2008-10-22T22:24:00.008-04:00

It's been an eventful 24 hours in the Blum home. Stefan and I saw my pregnancy specialist today to further investigate the positive FFn test from yesterday, as well as look at our options for the remainder of the pregnancy. After another ultrasound, some additional complications were detected today that were not present a mere seven days ago. In light of this new information in addition to the positive FFn test, my specialist and regular OB met today and decided that prescribing strict bed rest is in our best interest for both my health and for the health of the baby. I am to remain in bed (or on the sofa) 24 hours a day, with the exception of showering, going to the bathroom and getting a bite to eat/drink. This is a slight downgrade from yesterday, but my doctors are confident that the progesterone is still working in my favor and that I can still hope for a closer-to-full-term pregnancy. Not all hope is lost, which is exactly why we are taking all the necessary precautions, and we are very grateful so much is being done now, as opposed to when it's too late.

In addition to the bed rest, I am also undergoing a two-day steroid therapy to, in my specialist's words, "stack the deck in the baby's favor." The steroids will develop the baby's lungs more quickly because they are the last major organs to develop. If Baby Boy does decide to make an early entrance, these steroids will ensure as much as possible has been done to give him the best start. Again, so very grateful for that!

Unfortunately, my original hope of keeping Ava home with me while I am on bed rest is no longer possible. I am so grateful to have my sister and her family a mere two miles away right now. Although she, too, is expecting a baby (a boy as well in March, for those who don't know), she has offered to watch Ava during the day to allow me to comply 100 percent with the doctor's orders. Bon, I don't know how I will ever repay you! Stefan has gotten quite proficient at Ava's dinner and bedtime routines, so I know she is in the best hands. I just have to remember that millions and millions of mommies take their babies to daycare everyday. We do what we need to do (thanks for this advice, Lisa), so I will just suck it up and remember that this is not permanent.

So while the reality of this seems slightly scary right now, there is also some good news that came out of today's appointment: I am not experiencing any significant contractions, so that shows labor is not impending and we can do everything we can to keep it at bay. Hooray! Also, the baby has been very active, which means he is doing well in my belly - we just have to get him to stay there! From this point, I will be seeing both doctors every week, and with hope, my condition may improve enough to allow me to get up and around every once in a while. Stefan and I are both keeping our spirits up because we know that a healthy baby is all that matters and this is temporary. We'll get through it, and hope to be stronger on the other side. But as always, prayers are appreciated!

P.S. Tracy, as much as I would LOVE to give our dog Annie "Rasta" hair as a bed rest boredom buster, I'm afraid we recently had to cut her hair very short to deal with the heat. But if this whole bed rest thing keeps up, I may have Rasta hair myself! :o)