Baby Cherry Bud: A Birth Story

My sweet girl is catching some Z's in her swing, and I know the moment may be fleeting, so I thought I'd grab the opportunity to write down her birth story.

Monday morning (the day before my EDD), I went into work, feeling very tired and achy, but at 40 weeks, what else is new? I met the woman I will be teaching VPK with, managed to get some work done in my new classroom, and got at least slightly acquainted with the curriculum we will be using. All in all, I was considering it a very productive day. I was aching, especially in my back, but nothing too crazy.

Around 1:30, I was talking to another VPK teacher and suddenly felt a gush of fluid. Not like you see in the movies, where a woman is fine one minute and standing in a puddle the next, but a very definite...you know...gush. I must have made a sound, because the woman I was speaking to asked if I was alright, to which I responded with something to the effect (affect? I can never remember) of "I'm wet." She laughed and said "Oh, the joys of pregnancy." I shook my head and said "I don't think it's pee".

I say very dignified things under pressure, obviously.

I ran to the bathroom to discover that I was, indeed, wet, that it was not, in fact, pee, and that I was slowly continuing to leak fluid. Thank goodness for corduroy, which, until last Monday, I did not know was so wonderfully absorbent. It sounds gross, but it also kept me from looking like I wet myself as I went down to my classroom to collect my things and then informed my boss that I would be leaving early. I had to turn down several offers to be driven home, assuring everyone that I wasn't even having real contractions yet and that I was fine. I called Mr. CB on the way home to give him the update, and within ten minutes, was walking in my front door and changing into comfier (and less damp) clothes.

Contractions started within half an hour, and were about 10 minutes apart, maybe 30 seconds long. They hurt, but nothing I couldn't talk through and handle pretty easily. I was already prepared for a long night, so when ten minutes apart turned into seven within two hours, I was surprised. When that became only three by 5PM, I was incredibly surprised. At this point, contractions were taking some serious concentration to get through. Mr. CB was being amazing, being there if I needed him, letting me handle it on my own if I didn't. I spent most of the time walking around my living room and kitchen, swaying and rocking to help deal with the pain.

My mom called (or maybe I called her. I truly don't remember) around 5:30, and I gave her the update. Contractions three minutes apart, about 1 minute long. Still manageable, but no joke on the pain scale. She was getting worried that we were going to deliver our girl on the side of the road, we assured her that no such thing was going to happen, and that we would leave by six if things continued to progress the way they had been.

At six, I was holding strong at three minutes apart, but contractions had begun to double-peak occasionally, and Mr. CB made the executive decision that it was time to head to the hospital. Contractions slowed down considerably once we hit the road, but were still every four or five minutes apart and strong. We got checked in, triaged, and put in a room within about half an hour. I was a bit disappointed when my triage nurse told me I was only 4cm, but was very happy with 90% effaced and -1 station. The nurses were all very sweet about keeping me off the monitors as much as possible, not hooking me up to fluids, letting me walk around and pretty much just leaving me be. Contractions were staying slowed down (every five minutes), but I wasn't terribly worried.

And then.

My doctor had asked that I consent to being on the monitor twenty minutes for every hour I was off. I felt I was getting the better end of this compromise and agreed. Around 8:30 PM, I was on the monitor, and my doctor came in to check me. I was excited to hear if I had made any progress and also to get off the dang monitors when she said the thing I least wanted to hear.

"That's not a head."

Breech. Awesome. The sweet girl for whom I had prepared a lovely natural birth with no drugs, no pitocin...apparently had other plans. Unfortunately, the only doctor in my city who will deliver a breech baby vaginally is the head of obstetrics at our local teaching hospital. Which I wasn't at. I'm not really sure what would have happened if I had just refused the C-section, but at that point, I really didn't have the energy to negotiate or argue, and, to be fair, while I had researched the heck out of birth, breech delivery was something that I was so, so sure wouldn't happen that I didn't do my research, and I wasn't informed enough to feel comfortable insisting upon a vaginal delivery.

I cried, I bargained with God, I went through a quick five stages of grief, and then accepted that this was happening, and that my baby was going to come into the world via Cesarean.

I didn't realize how afraid I was until they wheeled me back to OR(around 9:45). Mr. CB wasn't allowed into the room until my spinal had taken effect, and I was shaking uncontrollably. My nurse, whose name was Jill, was beyond amazing. She held my hand and assured me that she wouldn't let the anesthesiologist surprise me with the needle. (at my request. I was running out of rational at this point). Let me just say that, while I have full confidence in the fact that, had Baby CB been head down, I would have made it through labor without drugs, that spinal was AMAZING. I was mid-contraction when it was started, and the contraction just went away. So wonderful.

They laid me back, prepped me, and brought in Mr. CB. He kept telling me "You're ok." and rubbing the top of my head. I seldom get sappy, but I really do think that what got me through the fear of surgery was keeping my eyes on Mr. CB, on how calm he was and how seemingly free of fear. I found out later that he was absolutely terrified, but he stayed so strong for me.

At 10:16, My doctor asked me "Ok, are you ready?", and we heard our little girl cry for the first time. I remember telling her "Oh, honey, it's ok, don't cry." and asking Mr. CB how she looked. They did all her statistics (7lbs, 15 oz, 20in long), then brought her over so I could meet my girl for the first time.They took her to the nursery to do her vitals while they stitched me back together. Mr. CB stayed with her, but made sure I was the first one to hold her. He didn't even hold her before I did. Getting to meet her, really meet her, was the most amazing moment of my life. I spent the next hour telling her how perfect and amazing and beautiful she was.

We went home Wednesday afternoon, and have spent the last week learning to be a family of three. Baby CB is nursing like an absolute champ, and Mr. CB is being the most amazing daddy I have ever seen.

A C-section was not what I had planned, and I think there is definitely some grief that goes along with not having the birth you envision, but I labored from 1:30 to 9:45 drug-free, apparently (I was told later) impressing the heck out of my doctor and nurses, and I got my daughter out of it, who is truly the biggest blessing I could have asked for.

Thank you all for sharing this journey from pre-conception to delivery with me.

Much Love,
Cherry Bud, Mr. CB, and Baby Cherry Bud

The real reason I've been MIA

Miss Alice Avery was born Monday night at 10:16PM. She is beautiful and happy and perfect. I'm still recovering from a surprise C-section, but I'll have her birth story up soon!

Love always,
Cherry Bud

The Great False Alarm

So Friday morning, my water broke.

Sort of.

More accurately, I was lying in bed at 6:30 and felt a gush of fluid. Fluid that, upon further inspection, was clear and odorless. So I thought to myself "It's go time!"

But then.

No contractions. None. And no leaking of fluid.

I spent the entire day rocking my hips, walking, doing ANYTHING to get some contractions going. I got some, but they were 10 - 20 minutes apart and only about 30 seconds long. So to bed I went.

The next morning, same story. Contractions are weak, and about 15 minutes apart. At 8, I call the hospital and let them know what is going on. They ask me to come in, monitor my contractions (now 7-ish minutes apart), and proceed to discharge me saying "One of two things may have happened. Either it was urine (thank you. Urine is yellow and it has a very...ahem...distinct odor AND you can make it stop. I couldn't do that with the fluid the morning before. It stopped on its own) or I have a second layer of amniotic fluid that burst, rather than the actual amniotic sac. So, disappointed, we went home and, following Dr's orders, had some marital fun. Immediately after we finished, WHAM, contractions in the extreme. Hard ones.

They lasted about three hours.

So here we are, with a baby that has dropped to around the area of my knees, possible partially broken water, but completely stalled out contractions. She's only 37w5d, but I had myself geared up to be a mommy this weekend. It's a very frustrating turn of events.

I have permission to go back to work Monday, although I do feel guilty about making Mr. CB miss an entire day of work Saturday. Le sigh. It's been a long weekend.

Lots of Love,
Cherry Bud

Things not to say to Pregnant Women: a 36/37 Week Update

Another week (or two), another update. Tomorrow we hit official full term and, at this point, time is just starting to drag. I'm so ready to meet our little girl (of course, being able to roll over in bed without a series of levers and pulleys is also something to look forward to.) Pregnancy has treated me well, but I am so ready to move onto mommyhood.

I'd like to slide into Pregnancy Annoyance mode for a moment. Something I've discovered during this pregnancy is that people LOVE to give unsolicited advice, and they love to give it to you on everything. Some of it is useful ("Witch Hazel. It's a lifesaver"), some of it is not ("You HAVE to give a baby formula at some point!"), but what it should never, ever be, is demeaning or mean. Once people found out I was going to be doing everything in my power to avoid interventions (read: pain meds) during labor and delivery, I got mixed reactions. The ones from women who had done it were great. "It's totally doable!" They would tell me "And so worth it!". Women who had had epidurals would either give me"More power to you" with a shake of their heads or warn me of how very, very painful labor was and how wonderful the epidural was. But nothing, nothing, nothing, could have prepared me for the moment that I overheard a woman telling my mother, the veteran of two unmedicated births, at my baby shower, that unmedicated delivery was the "stupid way" of birthing a child and that she couldn't believe I would be so stupid. My mother, ever my advocate, said "She has a great coach, and I did it twice, with her and her sister. It was completely worth it" To which the woman replied: "Oh, bull. It's stupid." This same woman, who attends my church (seriously, that just makes it ten times worse), has said the exact same thing to my face since then, reminding me on each occasion that she thinks I am stupid (with that word. "I call it the stupid way!") for wanting an unmedicated birth. Maybe its just the wording that rubs me the wrong way, but seriously? Lets be supportive of fellow women. If you want an epidural, awesome. If you want unmedicated, great. Breast v Formula, Cloth v Disposable, whatever it is, lets just be considerate and supportive of one another as women. I may not agree with one of my good friends who is due a week before me, getting the epidural as soon as she can, formula feeding and using disposables, but I would never ever EVER call her stupid for any of those things. Just because its not the way I am doing things does not make her wrong. ugh. Kills me.

In a great moment this week, Mr. CB installed Baby's car seat in his car, the hospital bag is completely packed, along with a separate bag containing Baby's cloth diapers, although I'm not sure we'll end up using them in the hospital, and both of us knows how to use a prefold, thanks to several websites and a very cooperative TY bear.

For a concise update:

How far along: 36 weeks, 6 days. One day from Full Term!

Total weight change: 28 lbs, still under they 40 they recommended I gain, but I'm feeling it.

Maternity clothes: When I actually need to look presentable. My at home attire is sweat pants and Mr. CB's t-shirts.

Stretch Marks: Several deep ones on my lower right side, none of my left. Interestingly enough, a lot of the deep ones on my right side are being well-hidden by a vary darkly inked tattoo on my right hip.

Movement: Active enough, but the poor thing is running out of mommy-room. I've been getting a lot of elbows in the side.

Sleep: I'm sleeping ok, though my dreams are getting hard to deal with. they have a lot to do with her..."D-wording" inside me because of something I do. Awful, awful. I have a lot of good dreams about her too, though. Every time I dream, I dream about her, and always about nursing her. I'm not sure what that means, although the fact that I'm leaking colostrum all the time may have something to do with it.

Best Moment This Past Week: Going to Itchetuknee Springs with friends from church. It was so nice to relax in the water.

Most Difficult Moment This Past Week: Aforementioned woman and her use of the word "stupid"

Belly Button In or Out: Flat

Cravings/Aversions: Cold stuff. Ice, especially. I could chew ice all day long.

Symptoms: Back pain, fatigue, the ever-expanding belly.

What I'm Looking Forward To: Being full term and meeting my girl for the first time!

She Lives! - A 35 Week Update

I'm not even going to look at when my last post was. It will only depress me and remind me that I have been neglecting the blogsphere for far too long. So much has been going on in Cherry Bud world, not the least of which has been some serious nesting. Mr. CB came home the other night to find me in his old tshirt and a pair of gym shorts, throwing things out of Baby CB's closet. It was originally just our catch all, and after weeks of saying "We should really clean this out", I suddenly was seized by the compulsion to just do it. Unfortunately, the feeling has not reared its well-organized head again, and, even though she is roughly five weeks from making her debut, Baby CB doesn't have a clean, well-organized bedroom. It's more a jumble of shower gifts and clothes that need washing, sorting and stowing. I'll get there.

In recent news, I am 1 for 2 on the shower front. Some very good friends of mine threw me a shower a few weeks ago with an Alice in Wonderland theme (Can you guess Baby CB's name?). It was truly wonderful. I just looked through pictures, and unfortunately, my younger sister took most of them, and her favorites are candids, which, in my largely pregnant state, mostly involve me mid-cupcake. Not cute.

What IS cute are these:Source

The photographer is an incredibly close friend of mine, and I think she did a phenomenal job. We had a ton of fun doing them, and while they are a bit frivolous and not at all fitting with the frugal lifestyle Mr. CB and I try to maintain, I am so happy we have them.

As for a formal update:

How far along: 34 Weeks 5 Days. So close to the elusive 35/35

Total weight change: Ugh...24 lbs. For to the serious, they had best be serious about breastfeeding making the weight melt off.

Maternity clothes: All the time. As an aside, it is a poor, poor idea to see a pair of your husbands pants and say "Haha...wouldn't it be funny if they fit now?" Because it isn't funny when they don't fit because they are too small.

Stretch Marks: Several small ones on my lower belly. I thought (or maybe hoped) that they were bruises from homegirl kicking so hard. No such luck.

Movement: She's more active, but has less room to move, so when she does, it's very odd. I look down and my belly is rolling like the tide. WEIRD in the extreme.

Sleep: Really starting to get bad for the first time. I've been having pretty horrible pain in my right side and lower back that makes it very difficult to sleep. Plus I wake up three times a night to pee.

Best Moment This Past Week: My daddy being able to feel her move.

Most Difficult Moment This Past Week: Dealing with no AC in the middle of the Florida summer. I've been spending a lot of time at my parents house.

Belly Button In or Out: Out, which is highly amusing to my younger sister. She introduced me to her new boyfriend as "My pregnant sister. She doesn't have a belly button. Look!" The proceeded to lift my shirt and put my lack of belly button on display. Nice to meet you, new boyfriend.

Cravings/Aversions: I am craving everything that gives me heartburn: Chocolate, Pizza, Pasta. Not so many aversions. If its edible, get out of my way.

Symptoms: Back pain, fatigue, the ever-expanding belly.

What I'm Looking Forward To: My 2nd (and last) baby shower tomorrow!

Counting the minutes,

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23 week Update!

Today Baby Cherry Bud is officially 23w1d. I am amazed at having gotten to this point. Before I dive into updates on the pregnancy, I am going to share some thoughts I've been having over the past few weeks.

I've been a part of the online TTC community for awhile. Not as long as many woman have, but long enough to see the heartbreak that comes with longterm IF. For whatever reason, surrogacy has been on my mind. Not using a surrogate, but being one. My issues getting pregnant seem to have stemmed from weight and timing for the most part, rather than from an actual problem with my reproductive system, and I seem to be able to stay pregnant and handle pregnancy beautifully. The past few weeks I've been wondering if that would be an option for me, to be able to be a carrier for a couple who cannot conceive or carry a child. I've been asking myself if I think I would be able to separate myself emotionally from the child, and, in all honestly, I think I could. The little one would never be mine, I would only be a carrier, and I think that would make the difference. I am certainly undecided at this point, and Mr. CB is a bit unsure of the whole thing, but it is certainly something to think about.

Now, Baby CB updates, in survey form because I'm feeling a bit lazy today:

How far along: 23 weeks, 1 day

Total weight change: +15 (eeekkkk). Let me say this about my weight gain: I have never in my life worried about my weight. I've always been small, and while I had self-consciousness about how skinny I was when I was young, I was able to be very comfortable in my own skin when I hit my twenties. It really became something that never crossed my mind. We don't even own a scale. So it took me by complete surprise when my pregnancy weight started to bother me. Those 15 lbs, and the sight of my S and XS clothes that may never again fit me have really been taking a toll on my emotions. Which brings us to...

Maternity clothes: pretty much full time. I was only a size 2 when I got pregnant, and my newly expanded belly, thighs and butt simply will not accommodate normal clothes anymore. I threw a bunch of my pre-pregnancy clothes into bins this weekend, and very nearly had a meltdown when I saw how small some of it was. I just can't imagine ever getting into some of it again.

Stretch Marks: Not yet, thank goodness

Movement: Not during the day, but at night and right when I wake up in the morning, she's all over the place.

Sleep: If I roll onto my back, Mr. CB has a tendency to push me back up onto my side, and that always wakes me. Other than that, I wake a few times a night to change positions, but I seem to be getting enough sleep.

Best Moment This Past Week: Painting Baby CB's room. It seems a lot more real to me that there is going to be a little person sleeping in there in only a few months.

Mr. CB has an inability to be serious in a picture, but this is right before we started to paint. Also, I know he is sideways. I can't get it to rotate because I'm a super awesome blogger technologically challenged

My only "after" shot. The green is actually a very pretty springtime-y green, a little less lime than it seems. I will have it known that what I am doing in the picture is the ONLY job I was allowed while painting Baby CB's room. Apparently I am just an accident waiting to happen and, if allowed a paintbrush, might go crazy and drink it or something.

Most Difficult Moment This Past Week: It's actually been a very good week, although my emotions have been out of control. I have cried more this week than I did during the entire duration of The Notebook (read: like woah). Baby CB has also been sitting just as low as she possibly can, which means that my hips and what I think might be my cervix have been aching pretty badly.

Belly Button In or Out: Keeps threatening to pop. Mr. CB thinks it's amusing to see if he can grab it and get it to come the rest of the way out. Not amusing, Mr. CB.

Cravings/Aversions: Chocolate, big time, and now that my first tri meat aversion is long gone, I am craving steak like nobody's business. No real aversions, except that my prepregnancy hatreds (barbecue sauce, for example, which MR. CB puts on everything) are magnified.

Symptoms: Just feeling large and rotund. I tire pretty easily, and when I am hungry, I am HUNGRY.

What I'm Looking Forward To: Childbirth class. We're two weeks into Bradley classes, and they are really good. Also our second anniversary next month. Mr. CB wants to go to the Wonderful World of Harry Potter. I won't be able to ride anything, but we're both huge Harry Potter fans, and I would really like to go. Plus, our anniversary is on a Monday this year, so the park might be slower than normal.

Much love,

Cherry Bud

16 - 19 week update OR Reintroducing Cherry Bud!

Getting ready for our little one has really put me off my blogging. There just seems to be so much else to do. I've said, every day, for the past three weeks, "I have to blog! Don't forget!". And then what do I do? I forget. Pregnancy Brain, I tell you.

Second Trimester is so much easier than first. Nausea is gone, energy is back. Life is good. I am missing my feet when I stand up, and I am beginning to show signs of the infamous "Pregnant Waddle", but I'm embracing it.

Updates:

- Our Anatomy Scan revealed that Baby Cherry Bud is a little GIRL! I was completely expecting her to be a boy, so when the tech said girl, I was shocked. She turned so we could see her full face, and I'm sorry to say that the first words out of my mouth were "She looks like a little alien!". The ultrasound tech was scandalized, but seriously, that's what she looked like. She's measuring right on schedule and even consented to giving us a little stretch, even though she slept through most of the ultrasound.

- We're refusing to tell anyone her name, which is offending quite a few people. My parents, in particular, are not pleased, but are being accepting of our decision.

- We picked a crib and bedding
My mom and I are actually going to make a quilt inspired by this one, which is from Target. I'm cheap and the thought of spending almost $200 on a set that I will only use the sheet and maybe the crib dust ruffle from just doesn't go well with my penny-pinching sensibilities. I'm still torn on paint color. I wanted to do it a nice spring green, but I'm second guessing.

- We got a few cloth diapers in the mail and I'm fighting to hold off prepping them until we get more. They are just so stinkin' cute! On a side note, telling people I'm using cloth diapers always, always, always get me the side-eye. It's hilarious.

- Our Bradley class starts in two weeks! I can't believe we're to that point!

- I've been feeling our little girl kicking and moving around like crazy. She is always active the minute I sit or lay down, especially when I first wake up in the morning. Mr. CB can't feel her yet, which I think bothers him, but he is being patient.

- This is my 19-week-old belly. Yes, I'm wearing the same shirt I was in my last belly shot. I'm ok with you judging me. I totally do.
Lots of Love,

!4 and 15 week update OR Inception: Pregnancy Edition

Hello, ladies, and welcome, new buds!

Seriously, I have to post more. Life has been hectic, but even I'm starting to go "Wait, Cherry who?"

I am immensely sorry.

Anyway, updates.

- No more morning sickness! YAY! Except when I don't eat. Which happens an alarming amount. Pre-pregnancy, I was one of those people who could completely forget breakfast and not eat until dinner and be fine. You know those people. They're obnoxious and everyone secretly waits for the day when they discover chocolate cake and eat themselves to 400 pounds. Anyway, now that I'm pregnant, the habit is still to wake up fiftenn minutes before I have to be at work, throw on my clothes and jet. Then, at 9:30, right in the middle of morning circle time, my stomach says "CHERRYBUDFEEDMENOW!!" So I've taken to not only actually eating breakfast for the first time since I was in high school (I know. Revolutionary.), but taking these things to work with me:

Photo Credit

They keep my tummy sane. I will say that, when you are the "teacher" in a room full of one year olds, it's hard to sneak bites of cracker without having huge baby eyes in your face saying "So, you gonna finish that?"

- We signed up for childbirth classes today. The goal is to (gulp) get through labor without an epidural. Go ahead. Laugh. Roll your eyes. Pat me on the head and say "That's sweet." But I'm at least going to try, so we've signed up for Bradley Classes, which come highly recommended by several friends who have made it through labor without meds. We were actually incredibly late signing up, and only managed to get a spot because another couple opted out. So woo-hooo!

- My dreams of late have become increasingly disturbing. Seriously, it's like Christopher Nolan has invaded my head. The dreams are so vivid and real. Plus, some of them are a little on the..umm..naughty side and that's just a whole mess of confusing, when I have never felt less sexy in my life.

- And, lastly, this is what I look like right now. Ignore the gaping black hole behind me. Please. It was that or bear witness to my piles of laundry.

Until next time,

Cherry Bud's Guide to 1st Tri

I will officially be 14 weeks this Monday, which means that I have been out of First Tri for one glorious week. To commemorate the blessed event, here is my how-to guide for things you need to know about your first trimester.

On Food and Nutrition....

- Don't plan meals at this point. My stomach was so touch and go that an entire chicken went bad in the freezer before I found that I could eat meat again...this week. Just eat what sounds good right this minute, even if that thing is fruit roll-ups for two days. Which I totally did NOT do. Of course. Because that would be terribly unhealthy of me.

- Because you really should be at least attempting to eat healthy, try and find things that your body can handle that will give you what you need. I couldn't do meat or most vegetables, but I could do peanut butter and V8 juice, which helped supplement.

- Embrace the moment that you encounter a once favorite food and find yourself retreating to the bathroom. It's your body saying "You really are pregnant! For reals!". For me it was Chef B R Dee, which claims to give a full serving of vegetables, and who am I to argue with a Chef? They went to school for this, they know these things.

On Doctor's Appointments...

- This is said over and over, but WRITE DOWN any questions or concerns you have; Pregnancy Brain is real and it will steal all your thoughts.

- If your DH is with you for that first ultrasound where you see the babies heartbeat, warn the poor man that it's going to be an internal. Poor Mr. CB was completely unprepared for the moment that they stuck a very large camera..you...know...up there. So was I, actually. It's very large, you see.

- Crying upon seeing your LO's heartbeat is completely acceptable.

On your Body...

- Yea, your boobs are going to get enormous. You are truly not prepared for how very enourmous they are going to be. They will be "Honey, I'm applying to be a porn star!" Huge. Except you shouldn't apply to be a porn star, because the guys in those movies are always feeling up on the girls, and anyone who comes within touching distance of my bazoombas is going to be attacked by something resembling a half-angry-pregnant-woman-half-hungry-puma. I went up a cup and band size by the time I was eleven weeks, and I'm already needing to go up another band size and possibly another cup size. Mr. CB is loving it. Me, not so much.

- Sex is...umm..iffy at best. There have been times when nothing has sounded worse to me than having anything to do with MR. CB's nether regions. Then, out of the blue, my body will say "SEX!! NOW!!". Usually when DH is not home, and by the time he gets home, I have reverted to an asexual, schlubby mess again.

- No matter what sport or physical activity you were into before you got pregnant, pooping just became your new Olympic sport. You win a gold medal if you can manage the deed in under fifteen minutes and with no tears. Seriously, I was late to work this morning for this very bullet point, and I wasn't taking home a gold medal, either.

On your brain...

I actually can't remember what I was going to write here, so I may go cry for no reason.

All in all, it's not an easy thing, first tri. It's tough, but it's beyond worth it when you pass that twelve week mark and you realize people weren't lying when they said you get a little energy back and you suddenly find you can eat again. Plus, your belly is starting to show, and nothing replaces the feeling of looking down and saying, "Hello, little one!" Even though you know they can't hear you yet.

I apologize for the lack of belly pictures. We got a new camera for Christmas, I just keep forgetting we own it.

Lots of love and baby dust,

Week 11 and 12 Update: The end is in sight! Of 1st Tri, that is

Oh dear. My internet was down all last week and part of the week before, which means I came back to miles of Bloomin' Babies updates and one, two, three new Buds! Welcome, ladies!

Life has been interesting in the Cherry Bud household. As I said before, I lost my job recently, but was able to find another, which I will be starting as soon as my fingerprint reports get back. Until then, unemployment benefits are helping to pick up the proverbial tab.

In baby news:

- Morning sickness is slowly going away, though I've been having inexplicable cravings for bologna sandwiches, which I had to get past the lunch meat detecting skills of Mr. CB, aka the "Things You Can't Eat While Pregnant" Nazi. I asked my doctor about lunch meat this week and was happy to have him tell Mr. CB and me that, as long as it's packaged, I can chow down.

- The crazy pregnancy dreams have begun in earnest. Poor Mr. CB is getting woken up pretty much every night with me saying things like "I don't want to marry anyone else" and "No one is coming to get us?"

- I have had my first and second belly rub, both from the same woman, who is really quite sweet on a normal basis. It's much more obnoxious and off-putting than I would have guessed, especially when I know that Puggle (Oh! We've named the baby Puggle temporarily.) is sitting a good bit lower down than my stomach, and what bump I have is mostly from the obscene amount of food I've been eating. Also, it's just weird to have people touch your stomach.

- We had our second appointment yesterday. The long and short of that is that, despite some minor cramping this weekend, my body is handling the pregnancy beautifully (YAY), and we have a baby who would rather you didn't poke shim (Yes, shim. It's Futurama reference. Don't worry about it) with a doppler, thank you very much. I should note, there is nothing, I repeat, nothing scarier than a nurse pressing a doppler to your womb while a look of consternation plays over her face and neither of you hears anything but static. S/he was moving around a LOT, but in the end, we cornered Puggle at the bottom of my uterus and got to hear a heartbeat at a healthy, if quite fast, 163 bpm.

- We are trying to decide on a natural childbirth method. We've heard good things about Bradley and Hypnobabies, so I suppose we'll have to see.

- I could not be happier that, as of next Monday, we are officially out of 1st Tri. I tested so early, so this trimester has seemed to just creep by, and I will be excited to find out if the rumors of no sickness and more energy are true or just an elaborate hoax to lull me into a sense of false security.

Until next time,

10 weeks, Body Pillows and Possible Baby Bumps

Today marks double digit weeks, which I feel like is quite the accomplishment, though whether its me or the baby that has accomplished something, I can't really decide.

A few updates

Yesterday I looked at myself sideways and noticed that I can finally see the very beginnings of what might consider allowing itself to be called a baby bump. I won't embarrass myself with a picture, because apparently I'm the only one who can see it, but it's there, darn it, and it's a tiny piece of proof that Baby CB is growing just how he/she should.

After a very short discussion, Mr. CB and I opted out of an NT scan. Termination isn't something we would consider, even if the results came back abnormal, so we don't see the point in paying out of pocket for another u/s. Although, to be honest, seeing Baby CB again would not have been a bad thing, especially as, at this point, little one probably looks more human than nut.

My mother, who I love more than life, bought me one of these:

If you are pregnant, or even if you aren't, you need this. It is heavenly, especially if you're like me and need something to snuggle with all night and a husband who wishes you would take your broiling body temperature to the other side of the bed because he is trying to sleep.

To the rest of my fellow buds: you are all in my thoughts and prayers, and I hope good news comes soon for everyone!

Sick and Sicker - a 9w Update

Being pregnant is wonderful. The idea of a teeny little person growing inside me, the congratulations from all the nice church people, the way Mr. CB rubs my still non-existent baby bump all affectionately while we lay on the couch.

So yes. It is good.

But there is one thing that I would give anything to be able to do again.

Really, the ability to take any medicine without feeling like I am the worst mother on the face of the planet would be super. I have the cold to end all colds and seriously, it's not ok.

In other news:

Morning sickness is slowly abating. I've added soup and canned ravioli back onto the list of foods that don't make me want to be violently ill.

Emotional turmoil is NOT slowly abating. Mr. CB has the same cold I do, poor guy, and the sound of him sniffling makes me want to murder a puppy. It's not rational, but the sheer anger that swells in me at that noise is a bit intimidating.

We have an appointment to hear Baby CB's heartbeat on the 31st. I'm excited about this. Because it's too early to feel any movement yet, All I have is an ultrasound picture and the upcoming heartbeat jam session to convince me that there is, in fact, a baby growing inside me.

I am slowly getting out of the habit of freezing every time I have pain in the uterine area and panicking over the idea of a miscarriage. I've had a fair share of ligament pain when I cough and sneeze and laugh and live in general, and I'm finally allowing myself to accept that it is a normal part of pregnancy and that the baby is probably ok.

Crazy as always,

8 Weeks and going strong

Today was my first official exam. Here's the report:

- Apparently I have a "good pelvis". The only explanation I could get that made any sense was "a good pelvis isn't small!" So I should be a birthing machine, apparently.

- I do not have HIV (I wasn't worried about this one. I don't make a habit of needle sharing) and I'm immune to German Measles. Mr. CB said the German Measles immunity is good news "If we ever move to Germany." Because, apparently, that's the only place the German measles can thrive.

- Baby CB is measuring at exactly 8 weeks today, which makes my due date August 16. I would like it known that this is the due date that I told them. They said July 28. Score one for me.

- Baby CB has a strong, fast little heartbeat, and, while s/he does resemble a tiny peanut, it is a vaguely human shaped peanut. I've been trying to scan an ultrasound picture, but it's not happening. Suffice to say that I uttered the phrase "That's a real baby!" just before I burst into tears.

Still amazed,

Not the worst news...

...but it is far from the best.

I am a nanny. I love my job, I love the baby I take care of. This was the conversation with my employer today, along with my thoughts:

"Cherry Bud (because that's what she calls me), we need to talk Oh snap, what did I do? about some changes that will be happening with Brianna Oh. Either weaning off the paci or potty training, probably. About time on both. Briann's Grandma hasn't been well, and she has wanted to watch Bri from the beginning, but her schedule wouldn't allow it Oh, yes, Jeanine said she had Wednesdays and Thursdays off now. I wonder how that will affect my pay but now she's going to be quitting her job because of medical issues Oh no so your last day will be January 26."

I've lost my job.

My means of paying for prenatal care and delivery bills. Mortgage, Food, Diapers, Baby Furniture, Baby clothes.

I feel like I should be devastated, and I would be lying if I said there is no worry in the pit of my stomach. There is.

But there is peace, as well. When my boss asked what I would do, I heard myself say, inexplicably,

"I will be taken care of. God has never let me down before."

I am trying to cling to the peace that says that I was not given a baby only to have God withhold any means of caring for them. I have a support system of family here in town, and Mr. CB has a job that pays well enough.

If you pray, I would ask you to pray. If you think good thoughts, I ask for those.

Right now, we have a healthy baby, and that's enough blessing even without a job.

Morning Sickness and Crying into my Cheerios

I have a theory.

I think morning sickness waits, and lulls you into a false sense of "Oh, I'm not going to be sick during my pregnancy! Huzzah!"

And then it hits you and you find yourself calling your husband at work and telling him that you're pretty sure the baby is starving to death because you can't eat anything and you're going to be the worst mother in history.

On the bright side, I just started the "morning sickness diet" given to me by my doctor, and so far, so good. It mostly involves eating saltines before you get out of bed and then immediately going to the kitchen and eating a bowl of oatmeal before your stomach realizes what's going on and rebels. It's working out pretty well.

Oh, quick story for you: Yesterday, I couldn't even enter the kitchen to get something to eat, because every time I would try, my stomach would veto the entire decision as soon as I walked past the sink. So I had to wake up my husband (who works evenings) and ask him to get me a bowl of cheerios. He did, and as soon as he handed it to me, I burst into tears. Big, sobby, hiccupy tears, for literally no reason. Poor Mr. CB just rubbed my back and looked befuddled.

In clinical news, I had my first consult last Friday. Nothing crazy to report. They mostly just drew blood and made sure I knew not to smoke crack or do Jager Bombs on New Years. They did, however, let me know that, because my LMP and my O date are so far apart, I get an ultrasound at my first real appointment so they can figure out how old the baby really is. It's not strictly "necessary", but any opportunity to see Baby CB should be taken advantage of, I think.

Despite all the craziness, I am so far beyond thrilled at this point. My pants have all stopped fitting, which tells me that Baby CB is growing just like he/she should, and all the pregnancy symptoms, as unpleasant as they may be, serve to remind me that I really am growing a little person. MY little person. It's mind boggling, but so wonderful.

5w Update

Technically, I'm 4w6d, but c'est la vie.

Not much progress this week, but a few things that have been my lifesavers:

Because it's trademarked, I'm not going to use the actual brand name of the first product, but I am going to play a little game of "Avoiding copyright infringement charades" so that you will know what I'm talking about. Ready?

Two words.

First word: The female heroine in the Twilight saga. Also the Italian word for beautiful. I think.

Second word: A group of people who play music. comes in Boy or Rock. Or Rubber.

Also, it looks like this:

While it is way too early for me to have anything resembling a baby bump, The fact that I am tiny mixed with early pregnancy bloating = few of my pants fit, and those that do are horribly uncomfortable and tight. So everything is now unbuttoned and I am blissful.

Next:

Go one letter up from "U" and one number up from "7", add "fruit juice" to the end, and you have the way I have been getting all my fruit and vegetable servings. Don't get me wrong, I'm eating my veggies, but I don't like most vegetables at the best of times, and certainly not when everything makes me feel violently ill. While I am eating healthy and getting the correct amount of calories every day, given the choice between something labeled "Mango Peach" and something labeled "Spinach Salad", I am taking the Mango Peach every time, thank you.

Rounding out this entry is the news that my parents have been told. My mother screamed and also cried, and my dad didn't say anything, just smiled at us, hugged us both and went back to watching the Jags beat the Raiders. We're telling Mr. CB's family the day after Christmas. This will be the ninth grandchild in that family. NINTH!

All in all, not a bad week. I'm still waiting for the subtle nausea I've been feeling to turn into full blown morning sickness, and while my moods are a bit unstable, I haven't gone full serial killer on anyone, much to Mr. CB's delight.

This is still a little unreal to me. Hopefully it will be a little more real when I go to my doctor next week.

Outed

Today marks, OFFICIALLY, the beginning of Week 4 of my pregnancy.

Huzzah!

At Mr. Cherry Bud's insistence, I have stopped peeing on everything in sight, which is unnerving and freeing all at the same time.

We haven't told my parents yet, but we bought them a little red bib at Target that says "Baby's First Christmas". I tried to find a picture, as it is super cute, but apparently Target keeps all it's Christmas bibs on online lockdown. So whatever.

This week has been an exercise in secret keeping, which is a herculean task if you are me. I have kept the news from my parents, who we will present with super cute bib on Sunday, but to date, I have told the following:

The Nesties on my local board - One of them was stalking my chart and knew already, which makes me feel important and loved. I am one of three on the board who is delivering in August. It's going to be a sweaty summer here in the south.

My librarians - I checked out "What to Expect when You Are Expecting" and was given the third degree. I do love them

My sister - We were decorating my mom's Christmas tree. My exact words were "Don't react. At all. I'm Pregnant.". She started crying and I said "Quit it! It's a secret!!"

A girl whose name I don't recall who sang at a Christmas party at which I was also singing - Because she doesn't know anyone I know and can't be a liability. So there.

Happily, no one has outed me on facebook, which would be disastrous.

a total champ/failure at secret keeping,

I Never Test on Thursdays

But today I did. It felt like the right thing to do.

And there it was.

A second, oh-so-faint line.

I don't even have a picture for you, because I took it with Mr. CB's phone and he hasn't emailed it to me. I'll get one up soonish.

Faint, but it was there.

This was my conversation this morning with Mr. CB:

Me: Honey?

MrCB: ::groanmumbleugh:: (he was sleeping, poor guy)

Me: Come here.

MrCB: No.

Me: It's positive.

MrCB: I thought it was too early to test.

Me: Regardless, it's still positive.

And then there were hugs and kisses and me crying like a loon.

So there it is. A BFP. I am equal parts thrilled (I spent the morning sending up "thank you" prayers every five to ten minutes and bursting into tears between times), disbelieving (I checked the test at least twenty times this morning to make sure my eyes weren't just enjoying their own little joke) and terrified (intermixed with the thank you prayers were "please let this baby stick. and be healthy. and happy." prayers). Being among the TTC community for the past nine months has taught me nothing if not that a new baby life is fragile and oh-so-fleeting sometimes, and while the "M" word is in the back of my mind, I am refusing to allow it space in my conscious thoughts.

My EDD, according to FF, is August 16. August. Meaning, God willing, I will be holding Baby CB this time next year. And they will be almost four months old. I'm in shock, and I don't think it's really hit me yet.

Praying, praying, praying,

Thanksgiving

Look! Cherry Bud's chart is having a cross-hair fluke! (ETA: Oh, Maybe not....)

Thankfully, we made it through Thanksgiving with NO questions about when we would have kids and only one mention of "When you have a baby..."

We discussed our possible adoption plans with my SIL's, who are wonderful and supportive and understanding.

We ate Pumpkin Pie and Cinnamon Rolls and Turkey and Mashed Potatoes. I held and snuggled my youngest niece and got my baby fix.

I all-around avoided being depressed about my lack of baby bump.

Happy Thanksgiving, Bloomin Babies and my fellow Buds!

Contingency Plan

I'm not sure why, but after writing this post, I feel like it may be a bit...umm....controversial, perhaps. Who knows? You be the judge, I suppose.

December marks the beginning of our ninth month TTC.

Only our fourth cycle, but our ninth month.

This blows my mind. I was positive, when we started trying, that, due to my historically long cycles, it might take us a month or two longer than I might like. But I knew, I just knew that I would have a baby by June. When I filled out my husbands FAFSA and it asked how many people would be in our household by June 2011, I actually put three.

Don't judge me.

The point is, I am becoming painfully aware of how close we are to the year mark, and the unofficial but still flashing-in-neon "diagnosis" of "infertile". I say "diagnosis" because I won't be headed to an RE when if the year mark hits.

Mr. Cherry Bud and I decided, early in our TTC journey, when we were faced with the "To Clomid or not to Clomid" decision, that fertility drugs weren't the road for us.

Let me stop for a moment and mention that I think modern medicine is a wonderful thing. I have seen so many beautiful, perfect babies born through the miracle of modern fertility treatment, and I see nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing wrong with it. Nothing. And I repeat, nothing. It simply is not the right choice for us.

So, at the one year mark, we will begin to save money, and, when it becomes financially feasible, we will begin the international adoption process. My heart has been drawn toward and broken over the children in Ethiopia, so that is where we will probably be looking to adopt.

I have told my parents, who know we are trying, about this "contingency plan" of sorts. My mother is convinced we will be pregnant any day now, so it's pointless talking to her about it, and my father gave me the "but there are American children who need love". And let me say this, because I know, if we choose to adopt, we will hear it A LOT.

There are people in this world who are meant to adopt. Some, like our very own June Bud, have found their families by adopting domestically, and some are meant to adopt internationally. Some are meant to do both. All I can say is that, if we get to the year mark, we are part of the group that is meant to adopt internationally. I have done research on both methods. Thought and prayer has gone into the decision, and we know.

Part of me is dreading getting to the year mark and not feeling my future little one kicking inside me. Another part is the part that is scouring adoption websites and blogs, wondering if my baby is halfway around the world, not even born yet, not even the same race or nationality as me, but still mine.

Feeling thoughtful,