D Day

The latest news is that I was tentatively scheduled to be induced on Feb 14, which brought be much angst as I didn’t want to have a child — in particular a daughter — to share a birthday on a holiday that I think should be banned. I was worried that if she was single when she was older, she might have issues with that day. However, my favorite OB would be on call and I made amends with it. Then I got bumped from the waitlist and they moved me to Feb 16 (her due date). As I had predicted, they wouldn’t let me go past my due date because of the above average amniotic fluid, which can lead to complications. Most notably, they don’t want my water to break when I’m at home since the umbilical cord could come out with the rush. Much of what I have read indicates that the fluid isn’t a big deal, but being induced helps us plan better especially with a toddler.  The downside to this date is that the OB on call is the one OB in the practice that I have never met!  My only consolation is that I’m 99% sure that the nurse who helped deliver Peyton will be there and I will get her again. And we all know that the nurses do about 90% of the work. (I saw her at 37 weeks when I was prematurely sent to Labor and Delivery after my stress test, which is in itself a whole other story. But I got her again as my nurse, which was super lovely, and I asked if I could request her for my labor.)

But this being my second, I don’t anticipate a long delivery, which is my other consolation. I’ve been having on/off mild contractions, which have gotten stronger these past two days, and I believe the baby’s getting ready to arrive anyway.

We are dropping off Peyton at school tomorrow and I will probably cry my eyes out. The only time I ever left him was when I went on my girls’ trip last March but I left him in good hands (his dad’s — the only other hands I trust to take care of my children), so wasn’t too worried. But this time, Peyton will be staying with the in-laws and I am just sick with worry. I hope Peyton will be OK. I hope Peyton sleeps well. I hope he doesn’t miss us too much. I told him this morning that his baby sister was coming out tomorrow and I’d have to be in the hospital for a bit, but he could visit. I told him he would have to say with his grandparents for a bit. Peyton hugged me a long time and said he didn’t want to stay with them. Broke my heart. I told him we’d get him as soon as we got home. My only consolation is that if all goes well with the labor, I will only be in the hospital for 2 days.

First Prize!

The following quotes illustrate why I think my in-laws should win the prize for saying the most inappropriate things:

“Are you having twins?” – MIL (I will never forget this. I was 6-months pregnant with Peyton.)

“OMG, so late?!” – FIL (When he asked what time I pick up Peyton from school. I said between 4-4:30 PM. I guess he doesn’t know what it’s like to be a full-time working mother.)

“You’re so big! HAHAHA! Take a picture of her!” – MIL

“I think you’re big enough.” – MIL (Current pregnancy, 37 weeks.)

“How much weight have you gained?” – MIL (Right after the previous comment.)

“Well, how much do you weigh?” – MIL (After I refused to answer the previous question.)

“Is Peyton in bed yet?” – FIL (On the phone to the hub at 9 PM. Peyton’s only been going to bed at 7 PM since he was 3 months old.)

My all-time favorite:

“Don’t forget to work out so you can lose all the weight.” – MIL

My Little Protector

Since Peyton has reached 2 1/2, I have found that he has grown leaps and bounds. He’s speaking in full sentences — and sometimes, saying the darnedest things! Many of the things he says he picks up at school (two of which are, unfortunately, “stupid” and “caca”). But most of them are remarkable and funny like, “Raise the roof!”, which he picked up from his teacher during one of their school dances. (Yes, they’ve had two so far.) One of his latest things is to ramble on a bunch of words/sentences even though they make no sense. For example, “My husband went to town my parents come and get me my husband go here yeah.” He has a sense of humor and makes us laugh every day. I’m always thankful that we are blessed with such a great kid. He was a fairly easy going baby and is as a child. A pretty good eater too. This is why I often worry about baby #2′s demeanor. What if she’s the complete opposite?

Our neighbor’s cat, Rosa, has “taken us in.” Strangely, she showed up at our back patio the day after we put Zoe down. Since then, she has made regular visits and has even clawed at the door to be let in. And we do because I think Peyton enjoys seeing her. Last week, Rosa — per usual — met me and Peyton after I had picked him up from school. I let her in and — as we learned from friends who have cats — she’s very affectionate. Constantly rubs up against us and around our legs. I was busily putting away things in the kitchen when I tripped over her and one of her nails snagged my sock and foot. “Ow!” I said. Peyton asked, “What happened, Mommy? Rosa do it?” I said, “Yes, it was an accident.” Peyton shook his finger at Rosa, “No hurt my Mommy, Rosa! No hurt my Mommy! Stay away!” It was very cute. It reminded me of the baby rhino who drove the bully away from his mom.

Happy New Year!

I can’t believe it’s already 2011 and that the little girl is set to arrive next month. I cannot believe that Peyton is 2 1/2 years old! And I am tired of being pregnant but nervous about being a mother of two. I know many things that will transpire in the next few months:

1. I will be even more tired than I am now.
2. I will be worried about Peyton while I’m in the hospital.
3. I will not want to return to work.
4. I will be worried about Peyton.
5. I will be worried that this baby is not as easy going as Peyton was (and still is).

At my last two appointments, I was still measuring 1-1.5 weeks ahead. I went in for my sonogram at the end of December to check on the baby’s size. Whenever I go in to see the specialist, I have to say that the technicians have been great, but the one specialist I have seen so far always approaches things oddly. When we went in for the 20-week sonogram, the first thing he asked after greeting us was, “Anything I should know that worries you about the baby?” Of course this approach just makes any parent nervous! I didn’t understand why he couldn’t just come in and say, “Hi, the baby’s fine. Do you have any concerns to share with me?”

This time, he came in and asked, “How do you feel about the baby’s size? Studies have shown that mother’s instincts are more accurate with size predictions.” I said I thought that she was smaller than Peyton and thinking to myself, “Why doesn’t he just freakin’ tell me if she’s big or not?” He told me that I was correct. The baby is actually measuring average and if she continues the weight gain as she has until the due date, she will be a little under 8 lbs. I was happy to hear that because I don’t want to be induced any earlier than I have to be.

The Second Time Around

Being pregnant the second time has certainly been different. I haven’t had time to obsess about every little thing and I sometimes forget what week I’m in. I’m supposed to keep track of when the baby moves and there are times when I can’t remember when she moved last.

Last week, I went in for my 28-week check-up. It’s amazing how fast it has gone by and I panic every time that I think about how close we are to being parents of 2. Not just that, but the work involved up until she arrives and the fact that it’s a girl.

As I’ve previously mentioned, I’ve been carrying smaller than with Peyton. I’ve been measuring on target and haven’t gained as much weight. Well, that streak has broken. I still haven’t gained as much weight, but it seems that the little girl has had a growth spurt. The dr measured me and said, “You’re measuring 2.5 weeks ahead.” Whaaat? “But I’ve been on target!” I said. This is what happened with Peyton — I was consistently measuring 2 weeks ahead.

I did notice my maternity clothes getting tighter and that the belly has started to hang.

“Let’s get you in for a sonogram in 4 weeks to check her size,” the dr said. “And we’ll do another one 4 weeks after that. We don’t want another nine pounder! Plus subsequent babies are usually bigger.”

“But it’s a girl… maybe she’ll be smaller?” I said hopefully.

“Maybe…”

Which means that they’ll probably induce me early if she’s anything like Peyton. I had hoped to carry her full-term without any issues. I’m crossing my fingers for 8 lbs.

I broke the news to my boss to prepare her. She let out a cry and started hyperventilating.

Heartache

Putting you down was probably one of the hardest things I have ever done. Not to mention the worst feeling.

You were such a quiet dog that sometimes we didn’t know where you were. And now that you’re gone, the house seems so empty and lifeless. This morning, I woke up thinking that it was dream. Sometimes, I half expect to hear the pitter patter of your paws on the linoleum. I caught myself today almost asking the hub if we should keep the left over steak for you, and asking if you were with Peyton when he was downstairs.

Peyton asked for you yesterday before going to bed. We told him that you weren’t with us anymore and that we missed you. We cried and he didn’t say anything. This morning, he asked for you again and I cried and said the same thing. He asked me if I was sad and I said yes. He said, “No sad, Mommy.” At dinner today, he asked where you were. “Did Zoe go to dr? At friend’s house? Zoe go on vacation?” The hub was crying and Peyton said, “Dada, you crying?” Then he went on about something else.

I miss you so much, Zoe, that my heart aches. I still open the door and expect to see you with your head propped up, wagging your tail.

Best Dog Ever

Dearest Zoe,

In 2000, the hub and I volunteered at the shelter. As we were deciding which dog to walk, the hub said, “This one. She’s so cute.” You didn’t look like an 8-month-old puppy because not only were you so big, you were so calm and reserved. I confess, I didn’t look at you twice but you won me over when we walked you as you walked beside us like a lady and had one ear propped up. Several weeks passed and no one adopted you. It worried us and we contemplated whether we should take the plunge. We had no house of our own yet and were preparing to get married. We asked one of the lead volunteers if you were going to grow any bigger since you were an Akita/Lab mix and already 54 lbs at 8 months. “Nah, she’s as big as she’s gonna get,” he said.

Ah, famous last words. Forty-five lbs and several inches later, everyone has always known you as the big, aloof dog. We had some training issues at first — such as you stealing food off the table, jumping on people, and chasing after squirrels on a leash — but you were so easy to train. You never barked at the door, which was nice, but when you did bark, it was a deep, gruffy sound from deep within your enormous chest. “A nice, strong bark” someone told us once.

Everywhere we went, people reveled at your size and calm demeanor. You turned the most unlikely people into dog lovers. You scared people with your steely stares even though you were a big softy. Someone asked if you’d been fixed because they wanted to breed you. You were truly unique and special. You always did your own thing — if you decided that you had enough of the petting, you’d get up and walk away.

Last year, you had your surgery on your leg. “We’ll get a few more good years out of her,” I thought. The vet told us that your joints weren’t looking good but were able to get around because of your muscle mass. But I still thought you were invincible.

And then that sprain you had a couple of months ago got worse. Then it just went downhill from there. Cancer. The dreaded disease. Worse. Bone cancer. Virtually untreatable. You stopped eating. You couldn’t walk. Tears streaming down my face, I petted you as much as I could. And in your old aloof way, you turned your head as if you say, “OK, stop fussing already.”

I’m sad that you won’t get to meet baby #2. We will never be able to find another dog quite like you. I truly believe that you are the best dog ever. I will miss you forever and always, Zoe. RIP and keep chasing those darn squirrels. ♥ ♥

Baby Moving

I have given up taking turns with the hub in reading and putting Peyton down at bed time. Lifting Peyton up into his crib (yes, he’s still in the crib as we haven’t gotten his new bed together yet) is straining. Then I always hit my stomach against the crib when bending over and putting him in. Besides, he seems to always want the hub when it’s bed time.

Tonight, though, the hub went to watch a basketball game and it was just me and Peyton. He asked for his dad several times and I explained that his dad was watching a basketball game. Peyton seemed sad. I sat down and read to him when I started to feel the baby kicking up a storm.

“Peyton,” I said. “Feel the baby! Baby’s moving.”

“Baby’s moving?” Peyton asked. He put his hand on my stomach and smiled when he felt her kick. “Baby moving! Baby sister moving!” He grinned and laughed and then put his ear to my stomach. Then he pat my stomach gently. “Baby sister,” he said.

People often ask me if I think Peyton understands what it means to have a baby sister coming. I’m never sure. But I think after tonight, he kind of does. He was so gentle and genuinely excited by his sister’s movements. I hope that he is just as excited when she arrives… until he turns into a teenager, that is.

It’s All Coming Back

I have to admit — I have romanticized visions of baby #2. Carrying her in the carrier as she sleeps peacefully. Holding her in my arms and her looking like an Anne Geddes model.

Well, I went to see a friend’s 6-week-old last week. Then it started to come back. How they snort and make these weird noises all the time. How they look and act like blobs. How they sometimes stink from all the milk. How I didn’t leave the house for 2 months by myself. This is my friend’s second child and she confided to me that it has been difficult for her to bond with baby #2. “She doesn’t do anything,” she said. “Unlike #1.”

I see her point. Peyton is so much fun right now. His latest sayings are  “Look at me!”, “Whoa – be careful!” He smiles and laughs every day. He makes jokes. He waves at trucks and airplanes. He sings in the car. He recites 1-5 in Spanish. With Peyton, we didn’t and still don’t know what to expect and it’s an adventure. We marvel at how he grows, learns, and has a sense of humor. I think the hub and I talk about something funny that Peyton does every single day.

So, with a second one, you are expecting more because you already know what the “more” is. It’s funny — as Peyton grows, I miss how he was as a baby. But I suspect that with baby #2, I will feel impatient for her to catch up and start being interactive.

And we’ve also been extremely lucky in having such an easy going child as Peyton. Even as a baby, he wasn’t too bad. He started sleeping through the night at 6 weeks. He rarely cried when teething. He always ate well. I worry a lot of how baby #2 will be. Will she be a terror? Will she be colicky? I have no experience in any of that. Will the same tricks that we used on Peyton work with her?

This morning, the hub recounted something about what Peyton did and said to my ever growing belly, “Little girl, you have really big shoes to fill!” She sure does.

It’s a Girl! (Gulp!)

I have noticed some differences with this pregnancy. The belly size is smaller. My belly button is also starting to pop although it never did with Peyton. I have noticed stretch marks that weren’t there before… which doesn’t make any sense since I’m carrying smaller. The baby moved a lot during the sonogram but I haven’t felt as much.

I understand it’s a personal preference, but I truly don’t get when people don’t find out the gender of subsequent babies. I am a planner and I know not everyone is like this, but don’t you need to plan a little for the next one? Like, buying new clothes if it’s the opposite gender?

I am quite certain that this is our last child (I’m too old for more and well, they are costly little buggers), so I definitely wanted to know if I should give away all of Peyton’s clothes and get new ones. I had mild suspicions that it was a girl because I having been carrying smaller and the heartbeat registered lower (a sign of a girl) than when I was pregnant with Peyton. But I didn’t want to disappoint myself since it seems like most people I know have same gender children. I had prepared myself for a boy and chalked up any signs of a girl to being too tired to properly take care of myself this time around — hence carrying smaller and lower heartbeat.

Although we had no preferences for a girl or boy, I had mixed feelings about both genders. Another boy would be nice for Peyton to play with. But Peyton is my special little guy and I didn’t want that to change. We know boys already. But they are a handful together. A girl would be nice for me to do things with. But I don’t want her to be a girly girl and turn into a drama queen. Girls are calmer. But then they turn into emotional teenagers. We didn’t have a name for a boy as we used our favorite one on Peyton. But we already had a girl name that we had thought from the first pregnancy. Girls are also so complicated down there… sensitivity to soiled diapers is something we didn’t have to face with Peyton. I mentioned my worry about having a girl — new territory — and a friend said, “But you were a girl!” I replied, “I know — that’s what scares me! I was awful!”

So, when the sonogram came, I thought I had seen a little something between the legs and I thought, “Oh, a boy.” Then the technician asked if we were ready to find out and she said, “A girl!” I was shocked. We asked her to verify again as I stressed that I had to make preparations and she said, “Pretty sure it’s a girl if I had to bet on it.” And, yes, I cried. I was so shocked and feeling so many things…

In one sense, this pregnancy is special too. The first time around it was our first and that made is special. This time, it’s also new in a different way, which also makes it special.

And the clothes… everyone mentions that. Although I was appalled when I was at Target the other day and saw very inappropriate tweeny outfits. But I don’t think I’ll be the one with the problem. The hub went out and bought an outfit for her on the day we found out. He almost got her matching boots too!