This is a post going around on Facebook. Since I had done all the work of writing it, I decided to post it here too. I was tired of seeing the pictures of my big feet right beside the picture of sweet Gabe. I wanted to move it down. So here's a new post, without all the work.
(In no particular order)...
1. My first son was stillborn at 37 weeks this past April. We named him Gabriel Matthew, but we call him Gabe. He was 6 pounds, 14 ounces and beautiful. They never found a cause. We wouldn't trade those 37 weeks for anything, and the pain of missing him is totally worth it to have had him.
2. We are anxiously and excitedly awaiting the arrival of baby boy #2. I will be induced the day I turn 37 weeks, February 27th.
3. I am a blog addict. I feel about blogs the way Matt feels about espn.com. I especially love blogs that can make me laugh out loud. I think it should be a requirement for all of my out-of-town friends to have a blog. I'm thinking about instituting this as a rule to our friendship. Prepare yourselves.
4. I have texture issues with food. I will not eat coconut, cottage cheese, grits, pears, certain types of apples, and many other things because of this...except I will eat Caramel Delite (Delight?) girl scout cookies. They don't seem coconutty.
5. I hate it when you are the only person in a ten stall bathroom, and then someone comes in, and even with all those open stalls, they choose the one RIGHT next to you. Can't a girl pee in peace?
6. It really bugs me when people say, "I could care less." The phrase is really, "I couldn't care less." Think about what you're saying, people. If you COULD care less, then you could care less than you do right now. And the whole point of the phrase is that you don't care AT ALL...you COULDN'T care ANY less.
7. I don't know much about grammar, but I do have a hang-up about the misuse of the words "less" and "fewer" and "number" and "amount."
8. Although I love to read, I have a hard time with non-fiction books. I've been reading The Audacity of Hope for a year, and I'm not even half-way through. Ironically, though, Blue Like Jazz is one of my favorite books ever.
9. I don't like sports (much to my husband's dismay), but I do like Panthers football and love Wake Forest basketball.
10. I like to scrapbook, but I'm not very good at it. I take over a whole room with all my crap, and take 3 weeks to clean it up. I got a new digital scrap booking program for Christmas and am excited about using it... much more convenient, much less mess, no need for the ability to cut in a straight line.
11. I speak Spanish fluently.
12. My favorite food is taco salad...the kind you make with Old El Paso seasoning, not the kind you buy at a restaurant. I could eat it every day.
13. My favorite dessert is cheesecake. I also really like fruit pies and cobblers. I'm not a huge chocolate lover, but I'll pretty much eat whatever you put in front of me... even when I'm not pregnant.
14. I like to work out but hate dieting. Carbs are great. I don't know how to cook (or eat) without them.
15. I have been to Argentina, Mexico, and Nicaragua. I would love to travel to all the other 18 Spanish-speaking countries, Ireland, Italy, Greece, and Israel (or anywhere else).
16. Ever since Gabe died, I have to make the bed every day before leaving the house. I don't know why.
17. I have slept with a stuffed animal my whole life and still do. Growing up it was Little Foot. Now it is the teddy bear they gave us at the hospital when Gabe was born.
18. All I really want to have when I'm sick is Kathryn's mom's chicken and rice soup and Sonic chocolate milkshakes.
19. I taught high school Spanish for four years. I love teaching, but hate all the other stuff that goes with it (dealing with idiotic parents who think their child can do no wrong, detached administration, grading papers, staff development, working 15 hours a day). Don't ever say to a teacher, "You're so lucky. You get the summers off." It's very likely you'll get slapped in the face.
20. I now work at Young Life. I'm assistant Regional Director... I mean, assistant to the assistant to the Regional Director. I work with two of the greatest women I've ever met. It is such a blessing to work, play, laugh, cry and pray with them.
21. I disliked Matt all through high school, but we started dating on a senior trip the week after graduation. We owe our whole relationship to Mrs. Blythe's Spanish 5 Trivial Pursuit Fridays, Jamie who predicted we would get married when we didn't even know each other, and Jesus (not necessarily in that order).
22. My favorite TV shows are Lost, The Office, and Grey's Anatomy. I also enjoy 90210 in syndication. The new one is stupid.
23. I really like being outside, listening to live music, and little things like going to the farmer's market and shopping for used books.
24. The majority of my wardrobe is from Target and Kohl's. But I'll only buy my underwear from American Eagle.
25. I like saying what's on my mind (see "not me" post), most of the time to a fault. I think Matt gets embarrassed by it, but I'll strike up a conversation with pretty much anybody about pretty much anything. One time I started talking to this random older man in the grocery store about what bacon I should buy. Sometimes people react well. Sometimes they act weird about it. Either way, I usually just keep on a'talkin'. Life's too short, you know?
Monday, January 26, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
not me monday
Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.
At one point this week, amidst all the coughing and sickliness, I most certainly did not think to myself, "Holy amniotic fluid, Batman! I think my water just broke!" Only to realize a few seconds later that I had just peed myself. And if that ever were to happen, there's no way I would write about it on my blog. That would be so embarrassing.
My wonderful husband most assuredly did not look at our dog on Friday morning as I sat on the couch, after my fourth night of very little sleep - hair a complete mess, snotty nosed, puffy eyed, chapped lips, breathing like something out of a horror movie - and say to him, "I married your mommy for her looks, Deac. She has very little going on up here (pointing to his head)." He would definitely not do that.
And there's no way I've been joking around to people that I have the gestation period of an elephant (without subtracting the 10 week "break" I had between pregnancies, I'll have been pregnant from August of 2007 to almost March of 2009), and then in an effort to figure out how long their gestation period actually is (22 months!!!), I certainly didn't run across some very scandalous photos of elephants in extremely compromising positions.
There's no way that I had the worst hot flash ever one morning last week, and so decided that I absolutely did not need a coat over my light-weight shirt nor would it be a good idea to bring one with me. I didn't then have to load car seats and little girls into and out of my car (while they wore snow jackets, hats, and mittens) or walk a block from my car to my job at Young Life in 20 degree weather, while being sick, all without a coat, long after the hot flash had passed. That would be so stupid.
I did try to hang a heavy wooden frame on the wall in the living room following the directions that said to start a small hole, use an electric screw driver to twist in the plastic anchor, and then twist the knob into that anchor. After all of that was a total bust and I had put a huge hole in my painted and textured wall, I did not, however, completely give up (after having made a Lowes trip to buy a new kind of anchor) and just glue the nice fancy hanging knob to the wall using some kind of super-duty concrete adhesive. No way, man. Not me.
And finally, I did not forget most of these posts from the time I thought of them in one room to the time it took me to find a piece of paper and pen to write them down (approximately 30 seconds). It didn't then take me 3 days to remember them and finish up this post. That would be an indication that I have a horrible memory or that the growing of a child somehow impairs my ability to think, which we all know is not true.
At one point this week, amidst all the coughing and sickliness, I most certainly did not think to myself, "Holy amniotic fluid, Batman! I think my water just broke!" Only to realize a few seconds later that I had just peed myself. And if that ever were to happen, there's no way I would write about it on my blog. That would be so embarrassing.
I definitely have not spent way too much time this past week thinking about how gross my house is but seriously contemplating whether or not I can wait for the "deep clean" I have planned for the weekend before the baby comes (I love you, mommy), so I only have to clean once. I mean, it would be totally disgusting to wait 4 more weeks to clean my house when there are already rings in the toilets and scum in the tub. I would never do that...not me.
At my first Non-Stress Test on Thursday, they definitely did not zap the baby with some crazy apparatus to get him to start moving. Furthermore, I did not secretly think, "Muah-ha-ha! Take that baby! That'll teach you not to move, you little..." That would be so non-motherly and vindictive of me. I did not then consider how to sneak the zapper out of the office in my purse, only to realize that the nurse had taken it out of the room with her when she left. Maybe she thought she saw the crazy look in my eyes that most certainly was not there.
At this same non-stress test, I definitely did not look down to see this:
I surely don't have to tie my shoe laces on the sides now, because putting on my shoes like this is impossible...
... so that this is now the new norm.
That would be so pathetic.
I definitely did not make Sonic Chocolate milkshakes the staple of my diet this week, claiming that they were the only thing that made my throat feel better. That would be so nutritionally irresponsible of me.
And I most certainly did not read this on the new medicines they've given me this past week...
... and think to myself, "What the heck," and throw it all back like it was the greatest thing since sliced bread, just because I was so miserable I could barely stand it. I would never put my needs before the baby's. Not me.
My wonderful husband most assuredly did not look at our dog on Friday morning as I sat on the couch, after my fourth night of very little sleep - hair a complete mess, snotty nosed, puffy eyed, chapped lips, breathing like something out of a horror movie - and say to him, "I married your mommy for her looks, Deac. She has very little going on up here (pointing to his head)." He would definitely not do that.
And there's no way I've been joking around to people that I have the gestation period of an elephant (without subtracting the 10 week "break" I had between pregnancies, I'll have been pregnant from August of 2007 to almost March of 2009), and then in an effort to figure out how long their gestation period actually is (22 months!!!), I certainly didn't run across some very scandalous photos of elephants in extremely compromising positions.
There's no way that I had the worst hot flash ever one morning last week, and so decided that I absolutely did not need a coat over my light-weight shirt nor would it be a good idea to bring one with me. I didn't then have to load car seats and little girls into and out of my car (while they wore snow jackets, hats, and mittens) or walk a block from my car to my job at Young Life in 20 degree weather, while being sick, all without a coat, long after the hot flash had passed. That would be so stupid.
I did try to hang a heavy wooden frame on the wall in the living room following the directions that said to start a small hole, use an electric screw driver to twist in the plastic anchor, and then twist the knob into that anchor. After all of that was a total bust and I had put a huge hole in my painted and textured wall, I did not, however, completely give up (after having made a Lowes trip to buy a new kind of anchor) and just glue the nice fancy hanging knob to the wall using some kind of super-duty concrete adhesive. No way, man. Not me.
And finally, I did not forget most of these posts from the time I thought of them in one room to the time it took me to find a piece of paper and pen to write them down (approximately 30 seconds). It didn't then take me 3 days to remember them and finish up this post. That would be an indication that I have a horrible memory or that the growing of a child somehow impairs my ability to think, which we all know is not true.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
laughter lives tuesday
On one of the blogs I read, they have started doing a weekly post called, "Laughter Lives Tuesday." I didn't want to go through all the hassle of linking back to that blog and posting a button etc, but it did make me think of some funny stories. The theme this week is funny things your kids have done, but since we have not yet experienced the funny things our kids will do, I'm changing it to funny things we did as kids.
When Matt was little, he and his mom were in a grocery store. She had bought several items, including a box of maxi pads. As they rolled down the belt toward the cashier, Matt yells out in a loud voice, full of shock, "Mom! Do you have bladder control problems?"
When I was about three years old (I think), I stuck my tongue out at my mom with attitude, and she spanked me. (I deserved it). Afterwards, I looked at her and said, "My mind wants to say you're a mean mommy, but I won't." (Isn't it funny how early we learn to find and take advantage of the loop holes?)
When Shaina was little (probably 4 or 5), I was playing around with her, and she looked up at me and asked, "You want a piece of me?" in her best gangsta voice. She then proceeded to punch me really hard. I looked at her kind of shocked and said, "Ow, Shaina, that hurt." She looked right back at me and said, "That's what a piece of me feels like."
When Matt was little, he and his mom were in a grocery store. She had bought several items, including a box of maxi pads. As they rolled down the belt toward the cashier, Matt yells out in a loud voice, full of shock, "Mom! Do you have bladder control problems?"
When I was about three years old (I think), I stuck my tongue out at my mom with attitude, and she spanked me. (I deserved it). Afterwards, I looked at her and said, "My mind wants to say you're a mean mommy, but I won't." (Isn't it funny how early we learn to find and take advantage of the loop holes?)
When Shaina was little (probably 4 or 5), I was playing around with her, and she looked up at me and asked, "You want a piece of me?" in her best gangsta voice. She then proceeded to punch me really hard. I looked at her kind of shocked and said, "Ow, Shaina, that hurt." She looked right back at me and said, "That's what a piece of me feels like."
Sunday, January 18, 2009
pet diaries
This is the funniest forward I've ever received. Thanks, Amy Todd!
The dog really reminds me of Deac. All I've been able to think since that plane crashed into the Hudson is if there were dogs down below. If Deac had been down there, I would have had to get him off before I got out. After all, he's family. :)
"Excerpts from a Dog's Diary"
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
"Excerpts from a Cat's Diary"
Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. B*$t*rd$!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe...for now...
The dog really reminds me of Deac. All I've been able to think since that plane crashed into the Hudson is if there were dogs down below. If Deac had been down there, I would have had to get him off before I got out. After all, he's family. :)
"Excerpts from a Dog's Diary"
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
"Excerpts from a Cat's Diary"
Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. B*$t*rd$!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe...for now...
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
go deacs!
Matt and I went to the Wake vs UNC game on Sunday night. It was SO exciting. I thought Matt might have a heart attack and was glad to get him home all in one piece, minus his voice that is. On Monday he could barely talk, and today he's still a little squeaky. It was a great game, and we were on the edge of our seats the whole time. Matt even developed a little man-crush on Jeff Teague who is quite the baller, if I do say so myself (you know, since I know so much about basketball and everything).
About to leave
At the game
At the game
Halftime Score
Deacs Win!
Storming the court (no, we did not participate... can you imagine?)
The starting lineup
eco bulbs
I'm not usually one to talk much about deals and coupons (except to relive my triple-couponing horror stories), but there is a great deal at Harris Teeter. Hurry! It ends today!
If you are trying to make the switch to the energy efficient light bulbs, they are Buy One Get One Free at Harris Teeter through today. That's getting $16.00 off and saving you money on your power bill (and they burn a really long time). Just thought you might want to know. I only got 2 boxes (8 bulbs), but I'm thinking I should have stocked up.
If you are trying to make the switch to the energy efficient light bulbs, they are Buy One Get One Free at Harris Teeter through today. That's getting $16.00 off and saving you money on your power bill (and they burn a really long time). Just thought you might want to know. I only got 2 boxes (8 bulbs), but I'm thinking I should have stocked up.
Friday, January 9, 2009
baby scare
Today was a stressful day. I woke up very crampy this morning but wasn't too worried, thinking it was just gas or Braxton Hicks contractions or something like that. Around 11 I went to the bathroom, and there was just a tinge of pink.
Calm, resolute, rationalizing attitude is beginning to edge toward the window.
I called the doctor.
Me: (an explanation of the situation)
Lady at the front desk: How far along are you?
Me: 30 weeks today.
Lady at the front desk: (insert panic sound here) Hold on.
Lady at the front desk: Patrice, how soon can you get here?
Me: I can leave immediately.
Lady at the front desk: (in a now very panicky voice) Get here as fast as you can.
Calm, resolute, rationalizing attitude is now throwing itself out the window at breath-taking speed, taking a few billion of my nerves and all of the peaceful, calming chemicals my brain may normally produce along with it.
I got in my car and called Matt. "I'll meet you there," he said. I then began begging the stubborn boy that is my son to please move or kick or something to let me know he's okay. He did nothing.
Calm, resolute, rationalizing attitude is now careening toward the pavement below, with above mentioned companions, at warp speed.
When I arrived at the doctor, I had to wait a few minutes, pee in a cup, and get my weight and blood pressure taken. I thought to myself, "ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME I'm glad and appreciative that they are so concerned about all of these important details of my pregnancy. I feel so well taken care of."
Calm, resolute, rationalizing attitude has now smashed into a million pieces after hitting the pavement at about a billion miles per hour.
The doctor checked the baby's heartbeat, examined me, and said that everything looks good. The blood is in my urine coming from my bladder, not from my cervix. (Too much information? Sorry, boys). "We suspect it's a urinary infection, but won't know anything for sure until we send it off for a culture. I don't know what to tell you. I don't see anything to worry about." I thought to myself, "WHAT THE CRAP DOES THIS GUY KNOW If there was an award for trusting a doctor 100% and knowing and having faith that they know more than me, I would get first place."
Me (meekly, of course): Um, could I get an ultrasound please?
An ultrasound ensued. Everything is okay. The baby looks good. They have started me on a "perfectly safe" antibiotic (don't even get me started on all the horrible things the pamphlet says can go wrong if you take this drug during pregnancy) for my not exactly diagnosed UTI, and all ismediocre well.
And speaking of my stubborn little boy, he is now rocking and rolling and moving like crazy. He thinks he's soooooo funny. I am not amused. He is currently in time out.
Calm, resolute, rationalizing attitude is beginning to edge toward the window.
I called the doctor.
Me: (an explanation of the situation)
Lady at the front desk: How far along are you?
Me: 30 weeks today.
Lady at the front desk: (insert panic sound here) Hold on.
Lady at the front desk: Patrice, how soon can you get here?
Me: I can leave immediately.
Lady at the front desk: (in a now very panicky voice) Get here as fast as you can.
Calm, resolute, rationalizing attitude is now throwing itself out the window at breath-taking speed, taking a few billion of my nerves and all of the peaceful, calming chemicals my brain may normally produce along with it.
I got in my car and called Matt. "I'll meet you there," he said. I then began begging the stubborn boy that is my son to please move or kick or something to let me know he's okay. He did nothing.
Calm, resolute, rationalizing attitude is now careening toward the pavement below, with above mentioned companions, at warp speed.
When I arrived at the doctor, I had to wait a few minutes, pee in a cup, and get my weight and blood pressure taken. I thought to myself, "
Calm, resolute, rationalizing attitude has now smashed into a million pieces after hitting the pavement at about a billion miles per hour.
The doctor checked the baby's heartbeat, examined me, and said that everything looks good. The blood is in my urine coming from my bladder, not from my cervix. (Too much information? Sorry, boys). "We suspect it's a urinary infection, but won't know anything for sure until we send it off for a culture. I don't know what to tell you. I don't see anything to worry about." I thought to myself, "
Me (meekly, of course): Um, could I get an ultrasound please?
An ultrasound ensued. Everything is okay. The baby looks good. They have started me on a "perfectly safe" antibiotic (don't even get me started on all the horrible things the pamphlet says can go wrong if you take this drug during pregnancy) for my not exactly diagnosed UTI, and all is
And speaking of my stubborn little boy, he is now rocking and rolling and moving like crazy. He thinks he's soooooo funny. I am not amused. He is currently in time out.
Monday, January 5, 2009
once, twice, three times a christmas
Matt and I got to celebrate three Christmases this year, once with his family, once with my mom, and once with my dad and maw-maw. So this post may seem late to you, but really we only finished Christmas this past Saturday.
(In your face, critical Mcjudgey pants!!!)
Deac with his best friend, Grandaddy.
(In your face, critical Mcjudgey pants!!!)
Christmas #1
We spent Dec 23rd-26th in Florence with Matt's parents, sister and her family, and Grandaddy. Grampa, Dorothy, Matt's Aunt Melanie and cousin Jake came for a couple days too. It was extremely fun and very relaxing. The meal highlight: 2 deep fried Cajun turkeys. Soooo good. The baby liked it.The kids got a wii for Christmas, so we played with them all day, and then waited for them to go to bed, so we could take over. I did pretty well at golf, but Matt was almost perfection when it came to figure skating... that's right, figure skating.
The afternoon of the 26th, all of us came to Winston, ate lunch at Little Richard's (Prissy Polly's was closed much to Andrew's disappointment), and went out to Gabe's spot. We then went to Matt's Uncle Bill and Aunt Patsy's to have an extended family Christmas with Debbie's side of the family.
Deac with his best friend, Grandaddy.
Matt and Kim at Patsy's
Matt with his cousin, Jack.
Too much Christmas??? (Will and Andrew)
Christmas #2 and Mom's birthday
We spent the 27th and 28th at my brother's house in Chapel Hill with Peyton, Amy, the kids, my mom and sisters. Again, lots of fun where the highlights were more gift-opening, making our own pizzas, playing cards, and line-dancing in the kitchen (while Peyton "free-styled").
Christmas #3
This past Saturday, Peyton, Amy, the kids, Dad and Maw-Maw came down/over for a late Christmas at our house. It was the first time Maw-Maw's ever seen my house, so I was excited that we did it here. I was also excited about Dad's steak, which is pretty much the best steak I've ever tasted. I made twice baked potatoes and Peyton and Matt made an excellent salad. Amy provided the coconut cream pie and apple pie (referenced in the previous post). It was a GREAT meal, and I was glad it wasn't turkey and dressing. We followed up the eating with even MORE gift opening, the boys playing basketball, the girls relaxing on the deck, and "Pop" and the kids roasting marshmallows in our new chiminea that Dad gave us. It's great to have it out in Gabe's garden, and I'll be sure to take a pic of how it all looks once the Spring comes, and it's looking all nice again.
White men CAN lower the goal to eight feet jump.
And last but certainly not least... Raya , who is always super sweet and cute, but somehow always gets left off the blog.
So, after an hour of uploading photos and re-doing spacing a thousand times, that was our Christmas this year. Hooray! Shaina took the majority of these pictures, which is awesome, but is also not IN any of them, which is very sad. Don't worry, we didn't celebrate Christmas without her.
me and baby 29 weeks
Here is my latest pregnancy picture. Thanks, Shaina!
My first glucose test came back too high, so this past Friday, on our day off, I had to go back and do the three hour test (4 blood draws in three hours... NOT fun). Thankfully Matt went with me, so I didn't have to sit there by myself all morning. We got in some much needed Scrabble time, and it was actually kind of fun. (He might not agree.) Anyway, the blood work came back today, and I don't have gestational diabetes. Woo-hoo! I actually wouldn't have minded that much if I had it. I mean, there are much worse things, and anything to make the doctor watch me even closer is fine by me. But I do love sugar and carbs, so I'm happy to get to keep eating what I want. I've eaten a piece (or 2!) of apple pie everyday this weekend, just in case I was going to have to stop. But I guess I can just keep on a eatin'. Might as well embrace the calories while I have an excuse.
My first glucose test came back too high, so this past Friday, on our day off, I had to go back and do the three hour test (4 blood draws in three hours... NOT fun). Thankfully Matt went with me, so I didn't have to sit there by myself all morning. We got in some much needed Scrabble time, and it was actually kind of fun. (He might not agree.) Anyway, the blood work came back today, and I don't have gestational diabetes. Woo-hoo! I actually wouldn't have minded that much if I had it. I mean, there are much worse things, and anything to make the doctor watch me even closer is fine by me. But I do love sugar and carbs, so I'm happy to get to keep eating what I want. I've eaten a piece (or 2!) of apple pie everyday this weekend, just in case I was going to have to stop. But I guess I can just keep on a eatin'. Might as well embrace the calories while I have an excuse.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
we have a date!
Like my new ticker? Exciting huh? My doctor has set the date - February 27th! It is the day I will turn 37 weeks. We are very glad to have a specific day. I don't really know why except that it gives us something concrete and for-sure to focus on. It's not that far away! So, you know, if you just have the overwhelming urge to pray for a date, we think that one is a good choice. Thanks for your continued prayers. We can't wait for you to meet him!
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