There is a common theme at my house lately - Teeth.
Sofia is almost 1 year old (gulp). She has one tooth. Since Christmas, I've been waiting for that first tooth to pop through, due to the amount of drool on the front of her chin and shirts. Finally, at 11 months, the first tooth showed up. Now, its upper counterparts seem to be working on their appearance. There are bumps where gum used to be, and tears where laughter used to be. She's grumpy. She's sensitive. She cries. Poor dear.
My husband had teeth pulled yesterday. The inside of his mouth has been ravaged. He's got stitches. He's eating jello and pudding and yogurt and smoothie. A perfect diet, if you ask me. He wants burgers and steak and apples and salt. There just aren't too many soft, salty foods. Can't really eat humus with a spoon. The poor dear.
My dog's breath stinks. Puppy breath no more. His teeth, they will have to be brushed much more regularly than they are now. Poor ME. Not him, since he likes the chicken flavored tooth paste.
Lord help us in this toothy week.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
A Different Kind of Love
I HATE miscarriage. Yes, with a capital H A T E.
I got pregnant unexpectedly about a year after my husband and I were married. We weren't in a very good place financially (is anybody ever, really) ((unless your name is Jolie-Pitt)) and the second those little pink lines showed up I panicked. Hyperventalating panic. Overjoyed and overwhelmed. I told the hubby a few hours later and he panicked. Oh, Lord, did he panic. The boy heard my news, made a joke and fell asleep for a few hours. Then he was able to talk about it. Not exactly the movie-like image I'd carried in my head for how I'd tell my husband about our burdgeoning child.
The first thought in my head (after the panic, the terror. the JOY!) was holy. shit. This either ends with a baby, or with a miscarriage. Neither one seems particularly pleasant right now.
But, as I started the vitamins, the nausea kicked in and I drooled in my sleep, I began to love that baby. Actually, I loved that baby the minute I knew that it was there. I really began to love the idea of having a baby right now.
A lot changed. I moved closer to family and waited for my husband to join me. I talked to a lot of moms, most of whom were not particularly happy about being moms themselves. I just smiled and knew that my baby and me? We'd be fine.
I had my first OB appointment. The papers, the information about birthing suites and newborns, the paper gown and stirrups, it all felt so real.
The first trimester passed. I read the weekly updates from babycenter. I remember the one that said my baby could now hear through the uterus. I positively beamed. I think I even called my mom. I am such a cheese, I started singing to the baby right then. I talked. I rubbed. God, I loved.
I drove across country to do our final move. There, alone with my husband, I felt a pop. And a gush. Red-tinted water.
We rushed to the ER. They were sorry, but there was a six hour wait. SIX HOURS. I thought my baby had a chance. I thought the wait would kill my baby. Literally. I tried to remain calm, as calm as the man in front of me, waiting in line. He held onto his forearm. I thought he was wierd. As he checked in, he said he thought his arm was broken. He let go, and there was his bone. May I repeat. He. waited. in line.
My husband went back home to get us a book or two and to call other local hospitals to see if they could see us.
After he left, I started to bleed. Pooling on the floor, on the chair, gushing like tears directly from my heart. They got me in faster than six hours. I was running a fever. I was soaking chuck pad after chuck pad. I hurt so badly, physically and emotionally. Husband arrived. "I wasn't ready for this baby, but I'm defnitely not ready to lose it". Tell me about it. All alone, twenty hours from anyone who loved us with a cross country drive ahead of us the next day, we said goodbye. 14 weeks of loving. 14 weeks of being a mom, ended in blood.
The moms I'd talked to back home had trite words "it was God's will", "it's better in the long run", "it's a blessing in disguise" and then they proceded to complain about their kids, saying that I was lucky.
I went on to lose pregnancy number two. And pregnancy number three.
I found out yesterday that one of those moms lost a baby. Her little boy. An unexpected, unplanned baby, leading to a shotgun marriage for the second time. A child she was terrifed to bear, and crushed to lose. She's broken, she's lost; she's the picture of me three and a half years ago.
She understands now. I'm so sad that she does.
This love, it is fierce and primal. It is a reflex, the need to protect our young. To rescue our children.
In my daughter's eyes, I see my babies lost. The way I love her now is not the same as how I loved her when she was just a line on a stick; an idea, a promise. It is deeper than that. The love of a person.
A different kind of love. Just as real.
I got pregnant unexpectedly about a year after my husband and I were married. We weren't in a very good place financially (is anybody ever, really) ((unless your name is Jolie-Pitt)) and the second those little pink lines showed up I panicked. Hyperventalating panic. Overjoyed and overwhelmed. I told the hubby a few hours later and he panicked. Oh, Lord, did he panic. The boy heard my news, made a joke and fell asleep for a few hours. Then he was able to talk about it. Not exactly the movie-like image I'd carried in my head for how I'd tell my husband about our burdgeoning child.
The first thought in my head (after the panic, the terror. the JOY!) was holy. shit. This either ends with a baby, or with a miscarriage. Neither one seems particularly pleasant right now.
But, as I started the vitamins, the nausea kicked in and I drooled in my sleep, I began to love that baby. Actually, I loved that baby the minute I knew that it was there. I really began to love the idea of having a baby right now.
A lot changed. I moved closer to family and waited for my husband to join me. I talked to a lot of moms, most of whom were not particularly happy about being moms themselves. I just smiled and knew that my baby and me? We'd be fine.
I had my first OB appointment. The papers, the information about birthing suites and newborns, the paper gown and stirrups, it all felt so real.
The first trimester passed. I read the weekly updates from babycenter. I remember the one that said my baby could now hear through the uterus. I positively beamed. I think I even called my mom. I am such a cheese, I started singing to the baby right then. I talked. I rubbed. God, I loved.
I drove across country to do our final move. There, alone with my husband, I felt a pop. And a gush. Red-tinted water.
We rushed to the ER. They were sorry, but there was a six hour wait. SIX HOURS. I thought my baby had a chance. I thought the wait would kill my baby. Literally. I tried to remain calm, as calm as the man in front of me, waiting in line. He held onto his forearm. I thought he was wierd. As he checked in, he said he thought his arm was broken. He let go, and there was his bone. May I repeat. He. waited. in line.
My husband went back home to get us a book or two and to call other local hospitals to see if they could see us.
After he left, I started to bleed. Pooling on the floor, on the chair, gushing like tears directly from my heart. They got me in faster than six hours. I was running a fever. I was soaking chuck pad after chuck pad. I hurt so badly, physically and emotionally. Husband arrived. "I wasn't ready for this baby, but I'm defnitely not ready to lose it". Tell me about it. All alone, twenty hours from anyone who loved us with a cross country drive ahead of us the next day, we said goodbye. 14 weeks of loving. 14 weeks of being a mom, ended in blood.
The moms I'd talked to back home had trite words "it was God's will", "it's better in the long run", "it's a blessing in disguise" and then they proceded to complain about their kids, saying that I was lucky.
I went on to lose pregnancy number two. And pregnancy number three.
I found out yesterday that one of those moms lost a baby. Her little boy. An unexpected, unplanned baby, leading to a shotgun marriage for the second time. A child she was terrifed to bear, and crushed to lose. She's broken, she's lost; she's the picture of me three and a half years ago.
She understands now. I'm so sad that she does.
This love, it is fierce and primal. It is a reflex, the need to protect our young. To rescue our children.
In my daughter's eyes, I see my babies lost. The way I love her now is not the same as how I loved her when she was just a line on a stick; an idea, a promise. It is deeper than that. The love of a person.
A different kind of love. Just as real.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
100 Things
Okay, so as we just established, I'm new. Fresh. Green. Some might say Naive. Whatever.
In an effort to jumpstart this thing, I'll give you 100 things about me. Collective yawn? I'll forgive.
1. I recently stopped biting my fingernails. Hopefully it'll last longer than the other times I've quit.
2. I have a white dog. He's half yellow lab and half maremma and tatra. Google it.
3. His name is Polar (pronounced po LAR).
4. He drives me crazy. Naughty dog.
5. I have been married for five years.
6. My husband is from a differnet continent.
7. We dated long distance for a long time.
8. He arrived 8 days before the wedding.
9. We all nearly had a heart attack.
10. No, we did not meet on the internet. Live and in person, baby. Study abroad rocks, is all I'm sayin'.
11. We have a daugter.
12. The best, cutest child on the planet.
13. I'm allowed to be biased.
14. I've been pregnant four times.
15. Fourth time is the charm. Or was for me.
16. I drive a Honda. Best cars ever.
17. I'm learning to garden. So far, the racoons have eaten more out of it than we have.
18. Next year, baby.
19. I'm 27 years old. I think.
20. It gets harder to keep track of years the closer I am to thirty. Can't we just stop counting as soon as we hit 26?
21. I'm bilingual.
22. Well, sort of. I'd say proficient rather than fluent in Spanish.
23. My baby is almost one year old.
24. I gave birth almost one year ago.
25. How the hell?
26. I'd marry Harry Potter if I could.
27. I love chocolate. All things chocolate.
28. I'm trying to lose weight. See above.
29. I'm hypothyroid. See above.
30. I have two sisters.
31. I have no brothers.
32. I only ever wear white socks.
33. Or none at all.
34. I hate doing laundry.
35. I prefer Macs to PCs
36. Suddenly, I feel very boring.
37. This list is taking forever to write. What does that say about me?
38. I am a Lost junkie.
39. I hate reality tv.
40. I like to cook, but hate to have to cook.
41. I grew up on a farm.
42. I have a soft spot for all things sheep.
43. Including (and especially) lamb. Mmmm...
44. I like the color blue.
45. While pregnant, I decided I did not want to dress my daughter all in pink.
46. Guess what color she mostly wears?
47. Guess who likes it?
48. I had her ears pierced.
49. She wore baby bling until it fell off.
50. I never thought I'd be that mom.
51. I work full time.
52. I miss my daughter.
53. I should actually be working.
54. I'm currently reading, like, four books.
55. Am awesome.
56. The only time I have to read is right before bed.
57. I generally fall asleep two pages in.
58. Oops.
59. I really like to walk.
60. I don't like to take my dog along.
61. Does that make me bad?
62. Seriously, he pulls. And he shits.
63. Is that fun to walk?
64. I love photography.
65. I'm not all that good at it, but I wish I was.
66. I heart sushi.
67. I'm already thinking about baby number two.
68. Husband is not.
69. I hate compromise.
70. I am always right.
71. Am totally not stubborn at all.
72. No, really. Just ask me.
73. But don't ask my husband.
74. Or my mom.
75. I'm trying new things.
76. Knitting
77. Sewing
78. General craftiness
79. Everybody hope that I don't burn any houses down or something
80. I love Christmas.
81. My intentions are usually better than my actions.
82. or my inactions.
83. I'm horrible at keeping in touch.
84. I'm trying to get better.
85. My husband and I have only been out twice since the baby was born.
86. Both times we brought the sitter ice cream.
87. god, we're cheap.
88. Good thing she is my sister.
89. My baby has no uncles.
90. She has four aunts.
91. I really believe that the weekend should include Friday.
92. February is my least favorite month.
93. I realy want some chocolate right now.
94. See number 27.
95. Popcorn and cheese is totally supper. Shut up.
96. I thought I hated mangoes until I ate one fresh off a tree. I love mangoes.
97. Every mother should own a dog. If only for the floor-vacuuming skills post meal-times.
98. I love NPR.
99. Coffee has to start every morning.
100. Yum. Chocolate.
In an effort to jumpstart this thing, I'll give you 100 things about me. Collective yawn? I'll forgive.
1. I recently stopped biting my fingernails. Hopefully it'll last longer than the other times I've quit.
2. I have a white dog. He's half yellow lab and half maremma and tatra. Google it.
3. His name is Polar (pronounced po LAR).
4. He drives me crazy. Naughty dog.
5. I have been married for five years.
6. My husband is from a differnet continent.
7. We dated long distance for a long time.
8. He arrived 8 days before the wedding.
9. We all nearly had a heart attack.
10. No, we did not meet on the internet. Live and in person, baby. Study abroad rocks, is all I'm sayin'.
11. We have a daugter.
12. The best, cutest child on the planet.
13. I'm allowed to be biased.
14. I've been pregnant four times.
15. Fourth time is the charm. Or was for me.
16. I drive a Honda. Best cars ever.
17. I'm learning to garden. So far, the racoons have eaten more out of it than we have.
18. Next year, baby.
19. I'm 27 years old. I think.
20. It gets harder to keep track of years the closer I am to thirty. Can't we just stop counting as soon as we hit 26?
21. I'm bilingual.
22. Well, sort of. I'd say proficient rather than fluent in Spanish.
23. My baby is almost one year old.
24. I gave birth almost one year ago.
25. How the hell?
26. I'd marry Harry Potter if I could.
27. I love chocolate. All things chocolate.
28. I'm trying to lose weight. See above.
29. I'm hypothyroid. See above.
30. I have two sisters.
31. I have no brothers.
32. I only ever wear white socks.
33. Or none at all.
34. I hate doing laundry.
35. I prefer Macs to PCs
36. Suddenly, I feel very boring.
37. This list is taking forever to write. What does that say about me?
38. I am a Lost junkie.
39. I hate reality tv.
40. I like to cook, but hate to have to cook.
41. I grew up on a farm.
42. I have a soft spot for all things sheep.
43. Including (and especially) lamb. Mmmm...
44. I like the color blue.
45. While pregnant, I decided I did not want to dress my daughter all in pink.
46. Guess what color she mostly wears?
47. Guess who likes it?
48. I had her ears pierced.
49. She wore baby bling until it fell off.
50. I never thought I'd be that mom.
51. I work full time.
52. I miss my daughter.
53. I should actually be working.
54. I'm currently reading, like, four books.
55. Am awesome.
56. The only time I have to read is right before bed.
57. I generally fall asleep two pages in.
58. Oops.
59. I really like to walk.
60. I don't like to take my dog along.
61. Does that make me bad?
62. Seriously, he pulls. And he shits.
63. Is that fun to walk?
64. I love photography.
65. I'm not all that good at it, but I wish I was.
66. I heart sushi.
67. I'm already thinking about baby number two.
68. Husband is not.
69. I hate compromise.
70. I am always right.
71. Am totally not stubborn at all.
72. No, really. Just ask me.
73. But don't ask my husband.
74. Or my mom.
75. I'm trying new things.
76. Knitting
77. Sewing
78. General craftiness
79. Everybody hope that I don't burn any houses down or something
80. I love Christmas.
81. My intentions are usually better than my actions.
82. or my inactions.
83. I'm horrible at keeping in touch.
84. I'm trying to get better.
85. My husband and I have only been out twice since the baby was born.
86. Both times we brought the sitter ice cream.
87. god, we're cheap.
88. Good thing she is my sister.
89. My baby has no uncles.
90. She has four aunts.
91. I really believe that the weekend should include Friday.
92. February is my least favorite month.
93. I realy want some chocolate right now.
94. See number 27.
95. Popcorn and cheese is totally supper. Shut up.
96. I thought I hated mangoes until I ate one fresh off a tree. I love mangoes.
97. Every mother should own a dog. If only for the floor-vacuuming skills post meal-times.
98. I love NPR.
99. Coffee has to start every morning.
100. Yum. Chocolate.
First
There has to be a first everything. First day above freezing in the spring. First colored leaves in the fall. First kiss, first love, first child. First.
This is my first blog post. I'm not sure I have anything to say, but I have an urge to write. First the urge, then the content.
Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to choose a name for a blog nowadays? I'm a day late and a dollar short on this bandwagon, and every single idea I had was already used. I even tried just typing in random letters on the keyboard. My first try at that was ashe. Taken. Not first.
I landed on Fall and Spring (Spring and Fall was already used, so sorry to whoever that might be. I'm not trying to usurp your idea). I'm a transition. Always a transition, a progress, an ever-changing process. Spring and fall are my favorite seasons. I like the part of looking forward to what is coming, the anticipation of a summer filled with lakes and sunshine and warmth; a winter of snow and Christmas trees and frosted windows.
So. Here goes. My blog. My writing outlet. The illusion that someone might one day be reading might be the motivation I need to actual do it.
for better or worse, here we are.
This is my first blog post. I'm not sure I have anything to say, but I have an urge to write. First the urge, then the content.
Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to choose a name for a blog nowadays? I'm a day late and a dollar short on this bandwagon, and every single idea I had was already used. I even tried just typing in random letters on the keyboard. My first try at that was ashe. Taken. Not first.
I landed on Fall and Spring (Spring and Fall was already used, so sorry to whoever that might be. I'm not trying to usurp your idea). I'm a transition. Always a transition, a progress, an ever-changing process. Spring and fall are my favorite seasons. I like the part of looking forward to what is coming, the anticipation of a summer filled with lakes and sunshine and warmth; a winter of snow and Christmas trees and frosted windows.
So. Here goes. My blog. My writing outlet. The illusion that someone might one day be reading might be the motivation I need to actual do it.
for better or worse, here we are.
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