The many stages of pregnancy acceptance

Weeks before I had the positive test and hours before I took the first negative test, it was very difficult to figure out how to feel. I was a wee bit giddy at the possibility of being pregnant. Could my body be harboring the beginnings of a whole other little person? These wonderings were tempered by my firm belief that I would have a difficult time conceiving. It had taken fertility drugs and several years for my parents to conceive my older brother. It seemed like most people I knew did not have an easy time and who gets pregnant the first month? I was also afraid. A good friend had been trying unsuccessfully for several months to conceive and that would be so mean and not cool if I got pregnant right away. If I had thought it would be so easy, I might not have tried because it would be too mean. I also had this worry of jinxing myself. I didn’t feel like I could really allow myself to think that it was a possibility. I took the test that night when we got home from work. It was negative, and I don’t think I was happy or sad. I just felt confirmed—of course it wouldn’t be positive. I was further confirmed a week later when I took a second test and it was also negative. In fact, I felt pretty silly for taking that second test in the first place. Lesson learned: negative pregnancy tests do not mean that you are not pregnant. They just mean that you are not pregnant enough yet and that you should stay tuned for further updates.

So, as you can imagine, I was totally unprepared when I got the positive test. I felt like I needed to read a million books right away—to study up on this whole thing. I had to figure out which foods and medicines and such I couldn’t have. Just a few weeks earlier I had switched a few of my allergy medications to baby-growing-safe versions just in case. I thought the switches were a bit premature—who knew? I got a big Ziploc bag and put all the not-safe-for-pregnancy medicine cabinet items in it. That left me with some lotion and a bottle of Tylenol really. Breaking up with Excedrin was the hardest. Oh how I miss Excedrin.

Even after the positive test, it was still hard to let myself fully believe and accept that I was going to have a baby. I didn’t want to get my hopes up only to have them dashed with a miscarriage. Also, since I was pukey and feeling like crap, it was hard to embrace the whole thing. I was just trying to make it through the day without puking in front of coworkers. I was cautiously excited, worried and nauseous for a good many weeks.

My first days of really unbridled joy and giddiness over the matter coincided with my first days of having some energy again and being able to eat adventurous things that consisted of more than cheese and bread.

I plan to stop writing in so much past tense soon. I just want to sort of get this all down while I remember it. I think next I'll have to thoroughly cover the puking issue--oh what a read that will be ;-).

Slight of Hand

So, we weren’t really prepared to tell Kenny’s parents about the whole me being pregnant thing on the same day we found out ourselves. As I mentioned, we were in quite a bit of disbelief. I felt like I needed to go to doctor first, get further confirmation, and make sure it was human and in the right spot and all.

Not telling the in-laws should be easy enough, yes? We could just, you know, not say anything, right? That was not the case. A weekend with my in-laws is usually a bit of a workout for the ole liver. We often have an afternoon-watching-the-game drink, a before dinner drink, during dinner drinks, and after dinner drinks. If I didn’t drink, they would know. I knew my mother-in-law watched like a hawk for these sorts of things. When we had visited them a few months earlier I remember her frowning a bit when I accepted her offer of a glass of wine. So Kenny and I developed a plan. He went to pick them up from the train station. I poured a little wine into a glass so that I could pretend I had already been drinking. That would take care of Friday night. For the afternoon drinks, Kenny would make me virgin versions of the cocktails he made for his mom. The difficult part to cover up would be the during meal wine. The solution? Kenny drank for two. It was much like a sitcom. We sat across from each other and put our glasses close to each other. He would casually drink from both. I would put one to my lips every now and then. He seized on opportunities like the arrival of our food to switch the glasses entirely or take giant gulps out of mine. “We” drank on our porch a few times as well. I would carry my glass inside a few times and Kenny would come in and dispose of some (sure I could have poured some out, but we’re not alcohol wasters). Basically, Kenny was drunk all weekend.

I was sure my mother-in-law was suspicious. She commented on how I hadn’t finished one of my drinks and I was sure she was catching on that no alcohol was really going down my throat. To top it off, she brought up the subject of children and parenting a few times. She even talked about how quickly she told people when she found out she was pregnant. Apparently, after she got the results she even told a stranger in the stairway on the way to tell my father-in-law.

Of course the nausea also showed up right away. I had my first puking on Sunday when I saw/smelled Kenny preparing a large slab of raw beef. Luckily, that happened while Kenny’s parents were on a walk with the pups so crisis was once more averted.

We found out later they had no clue. They did have fun figuring out all the signs they had missed later.

More than you ever wanted to know about things I've peed on

Two months and two days ago I had a dream that I was pregnant. I’ve always had dreams about being pregnant or about my friend, Megan, being pregnant. Not sure why, but if I were to name a recurring dream it would be that. This time, I decided that the dream was good enough reason to take a pregnancy test. Why was this time different you ask? Well, my period was 3 weeks late. I was fairly certain I was just having an off month because I had already taken 2 tests and had negative results both times. I felt silly for taking the third test. If you know Kenny, and if you read this blog, you probably do—you know that he is awfully cheap. He thought I was wasting money when I peed on the second stick so I didn’t tell him I was peeing on the third. Hehe. I had just rolled out of bed and didn’t quite have my eyes open all the way when I thought that I was perhaps seeing a plus sign. I rubbed my eyes like a cartoon character might do in a similar situation and looked again. I picked up the stick and ran into the bedroom where Kenny was wrestling with Leroy. I’m not sure I was making real words at this point or just concerned noises when I put it in front of his eyes.

I remember the episode of I Love Lucy where Lucy tells Ricky she’s pregnant by sneaking a song request to him for, “We’re Having a Baby.” He goes around the audience and tries to figure out who made the request. He almost passes over her but she nods yes and he realizes it is her that is pregnant and he gets ridiculously excited. I’d always imagined that when I told my husband I was pregnant, it would play out in a similar fashion.

Kenny’s reaction was more of disbelief. He was sure that this couldn’t be right what with the other two tests and how, how could this be? We agreed I’d get a test on the way to work and see what a second test said. There was no point really celebrating or discussing—or worrying about those drinks I’d had the other night because really—this was probably just a wrong test. After all, his parents were coming to town that night and how would we handle that?

When I had originally tried to buy a pregnancy test I failed. I looked around Walgreens for 10 minutes and gave up when I couldn’t find it—made Kenny stop and get one. This time, I tried for 10 minutes again to find one. I finally gave up and asked the pharmacist who did not know and had to ask somebody else. Apparently, at the Walgreens near me they keep pregnancy tests behind the makeup counter—because those are two things that go together, right? I got to work, went straight to the ladies’ room and tried this again. For a moment I thought it was negative because of course on this test the positive symbol looked much like the negative symbol on the test I had taken earlier.

I called Kenny and told him of the confirmation. We both went on to freak out and get zero work done that day as we had to keep asking the interweb questions and hatch a plan for keeping this from his parents for the weekend. When I got home he greeted me with flowers.

Though I’m 27 years old, married, and was certainly sort of trying to get pregnant—I still totally felt like I’d gotten knocked up and was going to be kicked off the cheerleading squad or something.

More catching up to come, but I think this post is already ridiculously long.

Increasingly Green Dog

If only I meant green in the environmentally friendly way.

Yesterday, we went to the vet for Jack’s annual shots and well puppy check-up. We decided to bring Leroy with us since he’d been so horribly treated all day. On the way there, I noticed he had some green stuff in his eye. It complimented his collar and tail, but also had that pending-increasingly-expensive-vet-bill look to it. My sweet Jackie boy had to be muzzled per his usual vet behavior, but he was parasite and disease free. As the vet was leaving the room I asked him if it was like, a bad thing, to be a puppy with green stuff in your eye. He said that yes, that was in fact a bad thing. He started to go look at Jack again, afraid he missed something. We said, no, the wily one on the floor over here. He took a quick look and said that Leroy’s eye looked terrible and how could we miss such a thing? We must be the kind of puppy parents who crate and zap their puppy and let him play with paint. Seriously though, he asked about the green tail and did not seem amused by our explanation. What are we supposed to do? Shave his tail?

Oh, and I learned a few truths:
1) Jack=angel outside of vet, demon at vet
2) Leroy=demon outside of vet, angel at vet
3) Sick puppy=expensive
4) Healthy puppy=more than twice as expensive

Side note: Yes, posts 2 days in a row! Yes, another one about my dogs.

The Notorious, Green, Robotic Puppy (No, it’s not Jack)

We painted our dining room on Sunday. Despite our insistence that no help was needed, Leroy insisted and used his natural hair brush to lend a hand. His intrusion might have gone unnoticed, if not for his bright green tail, tushy, and ear. Also, he tried to get the wet paint stick out of our way by relocating it to a nearby rug. Poor, misunderstood Leroy. Jack, as he strives to do in all occasions, remained perfectly clean and also tried to help clean up Mama and Daddy’s feet later.

This is the place I would put pictures if you know, I weren’t too lazy to have taken them and then put them on my computer. All of the button pushing and plugging in…so taxing.

In a related story, yesterday we received the kindest and most politely worded email from our downstairs neighbors regarding a certain someone’s inconveniently scheduled singing sessions. Apparently, Leroy has been terrorizing our poor neighbor and her two babies all day long with crazy barking jags for almost the entire time we’re at work each day. This is of course, making it nearly impossible for her to get the babies to nap at all or for very long. During college, I babysat two little boys for a summer and if someone had been doing something to disrupt or prevent nap time, I would probably be writing this post from jail. I’m just grateful that our neighbors chose the kind email over showing up at our door with wild eyes and guns—which, honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed them for.

Now, Leroy is a dog and dogs bark. He’s part Beagle and that is certainly a breed bred for that. If he wants to bark at the dog park or occasionally while playing or at a masked intruder, I think that’s great. But man, something had to be done about the constant all day barking he’d apparently been enjoying. I did it. I went to Petco last night and bought him this:

That’s right, we are now locking the poor puppy in a crate AND making him get a little buzz (the guy at the store insisted they weren’t shocks, merely static zaps) if he barks. Out of guilt, I also bought him this little diffuser that is supposed to put off calming mama dog pheromone stuff. I also gave him a bone stuffed to its brim with peanut butter and food today.

Update: We received another email from the neighbor this afternoon.

"It's very quiet today, so not sure what you did but Leroy seems content!"

Spontaneous Update, Part 1

1. We bought that condo and moved into it and all. It’s lovely.
2. I had no idea I wanted a second bathroom. In fact, when I found out our realtor had been screening for 2 bathrooms I was kind of mad. I grew up in a 3 bedroom, 1.5 bathroom house that for the first 12ish years of my life had 4 people living in it. But! Kenny is a bathroom hog, and not until I had my own bathroom did I realize all of the juggling I did to make the most of the 5 minutes of free sink/mirror time that was allotted to me each day while we were sharing one. I now have time to do things like moisturize and cut my toenails.
3. We got a dining room table off Craigslist. The previous owner said in her ad that she wanted it to go to a good home. I promptly wrote her my story and told her about the aluminum foil covered mess we’ve been serving people dinner on for years. She let me have it for $50 less than somebody else who responded because she was that horrified by the foil! See the picture below. I don't know why the pictures is so small. It refuses to be larger.
4. I probably shouldn’t write this because it will probably jinx us. Leroy is like a brand new puppy in the new place. He used to pee in his crate every day and is now down to about 1 in 10 days. Our bedroom does unfortunately face East and he is up searching for slippers (and sometimes even shoes that somebody wore for her graduations and wedding!) at first light. Believe it or not, first light is at like 5:00 am. I had no idea the sun came up that early.
5. Jack is his usual cuddly self. Is pleased to have the master bedroom in the back of the home away from noise and things that might otherwise disturb his naps.

Important things.

1. We are buying a HOME. I’m pretty sure anybody who reads this blog (by the way, MS Word is way behind the times as it believes “blog” to not be a word) already knows this, but I can’t just not mention it because it is currently consuming my life. It’s a condo in Uptown which is near the lake, the train, and as the real estate ads always mention—a Borders and one day a Target. I lived near a coming Target for two years. That Target promptly arrived two years after I moved out of the neighborhood. I spend 3 out of every 4 hours awake thinking about what colors I shall paint it. Kenny must hate me because he waited until last night to tell me about this website. In retribution I plan to drag him to no fewer than 9 stores this weekend in search of the perfect bedspread.
2. I’m finally Excedrin broken. I always feared this day would come. I would sometimes cry when I imagined what it would be like. I get a lot of headaches—probably 10 a month. I’ve always treated Excedrin with the restraint and respect it deserved. For my last 5 or so headaches it’s been deadening them halfway and then allowing them to come back in full force. Life as I know it may be over.