2 week wait? I LOVE 2 week waits!!

My appointment in March 14th at 9:30a. If we make it that far, I'll be 10 weeks. That seems so far away.

Especially since I have no symptoms left at all. By 8 weeks I should be like Chowder's college sweetheart, unable to lift my cheek from the cool porcelain of the toilet seat. Instead, while I was green for a couple of weeks, I was never actually sick. And I spent two weeks looking 4 months pregnant from bloat unable to release any of this gas no matter how many yoga maneuvers I performed. Now, last night Chowder teased me because through the whole first half of Dr. Zhivago as I farted over and over. Today, my usual self.

I'm still exhausted. But, this is probably from waking every 20 minutes through the night. Or it could be from spending 2-3 hours in the middle of the night wondering how I would care for my children if they were starving and freezing to death in the Urals.

The two symptoms I do still have...I can't park the van and I can't drink enough chocolate milk.

snow. again.

February is the longest shortest month of the year. That is why February is when we head to the Great Wolf Lodge. We just got back yesterday from our three days of water park fun. The kids really were great and we all had a blast. It is so nice to just get out of town every now and again.

I did have to go and get a new swimsuit before we went because I was bloated like a dead cow laying in a creek for a week. But, it's not like I was headed to the Riviera, all of the women were moms who were pasty white from being inside all winter.

Jellybean was her usual brave self and went down all of the water slides. Chowder went with her down the really big ones with the rafts. She had a great time. The Meatball is much simpler in his tastes. He has no interest in getting his face in the water. He stayed the whole time in the smaller pool with the little slides just paddling around happy as can be. It took Ladybug two days before she was not terrified to even put her toes in the water. But once she got past her apprehension she had a great time splashing around. Porkchop happily swung from one activity to the next, though he didn't like the bigger slides. Skaterboy spent most of his time in the arcade, but he peaked into the waterpark a couple of times.

The biggest problem was sleep. The beds were awful! I may as well been sleeping on the floor. And Ladybug just wouldn't settle down. So, we are taking today as a lay around day.

Here is what life is like in a hotel room with the Cakes family.

Dry Dry Dry

My prayer life right now is very dry.
Like, non existent.
Like, not worth my energy.
Like, why bother.

So, yesterday evening I literally tripped over my once beloved prayer book. It's called The Little Book of Hours and is...well just that. A book for praying the Liturgy of the Hours, a monastic tradition that includes prayers at dawn, midday, vesper (evening), and compline (bedtime). I used to pray the Hours faithfully. I love these prayers. My alarm on my phone is set for noon and 5pm to remind me. Now, it just goes off and I ignore it.

I went ahead and took the hint. I lay down and started the compline prayers. The Opening prayer alone just fills my heart with good things.

May our hearts dream of you, sense your presence in deep sleep, and always sing your glory with the approaching light. Amen

Nice huh? better than Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep. Now there is a prayer in the Compline that I always hate. I say it and then under my breath say, "I don't really mean that." After the Psalm in the closing prayers it says

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

I don't mean that. I know I'm supposed to, but when I try to pray this like I really mean it, I go into a complete panic! "OK Lord, I mean it...just not now, ok?" I hate that part. I always want to skip right over it.

But it wasn't that part that God smacked me in the face with. You see, during this dry time I have felt abandoned. The whole "Why bother?" thing. I always blame the distance on God. And I'm not alone. The bible is full of people saying, "Yo, God! Where are you?! Why won't you answer me?!" But last night as I was reading the Psalm (not praying it, of course, just reading it.) God turned it around on me. He said,

Why, Cakes, do you stand far off?
Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?

huh. perhaps I haven't been abandoned. Perhaps I am the abandoner, after all.

So, how am I?

Yes, Elizabeth, I'm 7 weeks. Thanks for thinking of me. I told Chowder that if I make it to 8 weeks, I will call my OB and make an appointment. I don't know how long it will take to get in, but I imagine within the week. They will do an u/s in the office so we can see if we've even made it to heartbeat. I have made it to heartbeat 3 out of my 6 miscarriages so that will only be the first hurdle. My latest loss was at 13 weeks, so that will be my safety zone. I wish I could say that this pregnancy felt different or more hopeful, but it doesn't.

I'm exhausted. Not just from the pregnancy and lack of food (nausea) but because I had to go off of my OCD medication. So, my obsessive thoughts are starting to kick in. Last night I spent three hours laying in bed with the phrase, "Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity," a quote from one of Barack Obama's speeches, replaying over and over in my head. Then I spent the next hour berating myself for wasting 3 hours. I'm sure my other blog will become a lot more active. *sigh* I hate going through all of this for nothing.

On a brighter side, I have spent the last 3 nights watching the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice with yummy Colin Firth over and over. I love that movie. I think I'll watch disc 2 again tonight.

Cakes 0- Squirrels 1

Ok guys. I am looking for some advice and resources as I plan my garden for this spring. We have only been in my neighborhood for 3 summers and have learned very quickly that unlike the other parts of the city and even Northwoods Minnesota, the squirrels in this neighborhood are particularly...shall we say, persistent.

Our pots of strawberries last year yielded nothing but small green nibbles before the squirrels carried them off. And yes, I saw they were squirrels and not the usual rabbits I've had to deal with. So, I'm wondering how my fellow gardeners fight off these...persistent...beasts and still end up with a basketful of tomatoes. I mainly plant in containers, a couple barrels of lettuce, some tomatoes, peppers, the usual, but would like to try a couple of small fruit trees. I have used bird netting and bamboo in the past but don't feel like that would be enough to protect the plants from the creatures who have chewed enormous holes in my heavy duty plastic city trash cart.

What do you use and where do you get it?

Peek-In-Monday...

I finally have my video up and working again, so I'm back in the Peek In Monday business. Here is a warmish day at the schoolyard with The Meatball showing off, and Porkchop trying to be as cool as big brother, and Jellybean pouting because....I don't remember why, and Ladybug being Little Annoying Sister of the Year.
enjoy.

And yes, I know The Meatball's helmet is not on right. He lost the extra padding and we haven't gotten more, yet.

Love Thursday

It seems fitting that I jump back into the Love Thursday crowd on THE Love Thursday.

If it wasn't for self-portraits, there would be no pictures of me at all. And no pictures of Chowder and I. Whenever we go somewhere, I set up my camera and timer and force Chowder to play along with me so that our children will know that they were not hatched from eggs. They had parents who truly loved each other.

Of course none of the self-portraits of us as a couple ever come out to be some beautiful picturesque photo of the two of us smiling into the camera...a perfect balance. No. No. No. our self-portraits of us as a couple always come out like this.
An actual self-portrait. of us. as a couple.
I love them all. And want to make a wall of them in our bedroom.

Happy Love Thursday!

A Room of One's Own...

errrr...a landing of one's own.

I'm putting my finishing touches on my essay and resume for my college application. (Some of you may get your email boxes stuffed with my blatherings so you can perfect them for me.) I have sent away for transcript requests like a big, brave girl. I am getting my financial aid paperwork together and hopefully soon I will be a 36 year old freshman.

I've been trying to figure out where I can set up my own little space and desk. I figure once Ladybug is big enough (2 years old, maybe?) we will move her into a room with Jellybean and the boys can have the other room and then I can use the little nursery for my study area. But, until then I have my landing. It is just the right size for a desk we pulled off the side of the road on bulk trash pick-up day. I need to sand and paint it, but it should be perfect. I'm going to use some of my student loan money to buy myself a laptop. I can't wait to get started!

Shaz~Can you link that post you did about creating a workspace?

Your kindness...sustains me.

I love the internets. We haven't, of course, told anyone else about this pregnancy. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to be able to talk about it. Thank you all so much for the kind comments and kinder emails. Many of you have seen me through other miscarriages, some of you through 3 or 4. I appreciate your gentleness with me. I love that for some of you there is such excitement. I hate that that is not how I felt when I found out. Just those horrible feelings of dread. I hate that a new life was created and not celebrated by me. Instead, I was trying to figure out how to distance myself from her so it won't hurt so much when the end comes.

But, I don't know when the end is coming. The reality is I don't know when the end is coming for any of my children. Should I distance myself from them? Just in case? From my husband? And would it matter anyway? Would I really not hurt as much if I lost this baby but had remained "Detached?" No. I would hurt and regret.

Chowder is really fine with the whole thing. He had said he didn't want to go through the rigamarole of trying to get pregnant, and he was worried about me and the losses, but he was never opposed to having more children. He has always wanted a couple of more. He isn't filled with the same dread that I am. I asked him last night if he thought that this little sweeting would make it and he said, "Sure. Why not?" ummmm....you know because of our history?

I think the hardest part for me right now is the guilt. I liken me getting pregnant on my own, to not having your kid in a carseat. Why would you do that when you know it only endangers your child? We are supposed to use medical intervention. I can't help but feel responsible for all of the losses that have come after we found out my diagnosis. I should have protected them better. By preventing pregnancy on my own in the first place. That's what good moms do!

Good moms also love their children for as long as God has blessed their lives with them. I don't know if I have another week, another 6 weeks, another year, another 50 years with this little Sweeting. But God has blessed me with her NOW. So I'll curl around her, and dream about her, and pray over her for as long as I have her. Because dammit, I'm a good mom. and I already love her.

Don't you know what causes that?

Yes, we do. And yet here I am 4weeks 3days pregnant.

I keep meticulous charts that take my fertility issues into account. My temp shift was 5 days after "the act." 5 days! That means I ovulated 4 days after "the act." Nothing survives 4 days in my toxic sludge! Don't think that I missed the irony. I can't even depend on my body's malfunction anymore! (Now there are many new readers that are probably confused by this post so far. I lazily ask you to scroll through September 2007. It explains it all there. I'm just not up for spelling all the depressing crap out again at the moment.) I would be over the moon if I had the confidence that this pregnancy would end in a chubby little baby, but of course I'm a bit to jaded for all that.

4 days?! I keep picturing the poor little bastard dragging himself through the fallopian tubes while being pummeled by my antibodies. He must have been a mess by the time he got to safety. And if he's a mess, than...*sigh*

I'm sorry for the disjointedness of this post. My mind is everywhere. I'm going to go crawl into my hole for a little while. The internet is a dangerous place for a girl like me, desperate to find the Magic Eight Ball website that will answer, "Yes, this time it will be different." I'll be back next Monday.

prayers for acceptance? prayers for miracles? prayers for life?
pray 'em if you got 'em.

...4 days. That means it's probably a girl.