Saturday, September 29, 2012

My Not So Little Babies

Sometimes I feel like our nations obsession with weight and body mass indexes has gotten a bit out of hand.  Or maybe it's just dramatically skewed.  

Case in point.  Yesterday the girls had to have some lab work done.  It involved a iron test and a lead test, height and weight.  After the height and weight tests were completed, I was informed that both the girls were in danger of obesity (and one nurse suggested that Mae was autistic since she cried when they drew blood and wasn't thrilled about a stranger manhandling her...).  You see, they're in the 95th percentile for height and the 95th percentile for weight and apparently the little chart says that they're body masses are too high when they compare these two measurements.  

We've gone over this before, at appointments since Sadie was born.  The thing is, our kids are big.  They're big in utero (and no, I've never had gestational diabetes).  They're big when they're born.  And so far, they tend to be bigger than their peers all around.  Maybe it's because there dad looks like this:

His tall and muscular genes apparently trump my shirmpy jeans.  Our children aren't willowy and will likely never hear the word "waif" describing their body types.    

Yet the world of statistics doesn't seem to understand that.  It doesn't take into account that both of our kids are pretty muscular already, or that the thing about Mae that looks giant when she's around other two year olds are her shoulders.  

"You can see the muscles in her tummy and her ribs!" I said when the "danger" of Mae's weight was brought up yesterday.  "And she hasn't gained a single pound in 12 months!" (that part of the weigh in did surprise me.  She's certainly thinning out!).  

Anyways... I couldn't help but wonder how many mothers are given serious complexes about the health of their child using these methods of determining a healthy weight.  Because if Mae is "borderline" and Sadie is "in danger of" obesity than there's something wrong with the scale.  Two year olds aren't supposed to have super model-esque figures.  

It's just a little bit odd to me...

And now, some examples of what the "danger zone" for being overweight apparently looks like:

But I'm sure that government regulations about sizes of drinks are a great idea... I mean, clearly the government knows when we're in "danger" and can save of from making those bad dietary decisions ourselves by telling us, "no, that's just too much sugar for you."  I mean, the charts do such a great job identifying "obesity."  Eyeroll.

All Dressed Up for Michaelmas...

Today was such a beautiful day that we decided to brave the outdoors (the girls have been suffering inside since I've been pretty breathless and the idea of wrangling/wrestling Mae in when it was time for lunch wasn't high on my list of things that sounded like a good idea).  This morning, the neighbors seeing me in my State pajama pants and a sweat shirt didn't sound like a horrible idea, and so we all headed out to the yard.

Pretty immediately, Mae wanted to hold her sister's hand:

Then the walking began:

And the dancing and the twirling:

And more walking:

Sadie is pretty incredible with her little sister.  And she's finally decided that Mae is old enough to be "friends" instead of just "a baby."

Mae Bae likes to keep her sister moving... pretty much non-stop:

This is one of my favorite pictures: 

Sadie was very serious as they came over for a visit:

Mae had a near meltdown when her sister got up on this stump:

Sadie did get in quite a few jumps however:

She stepped...

And jumped...

And twirled... of the stump...

Mae took a break and played with my rosary (after she stole it):

Sadie had to check in frequently to make sure I was taking enough pictures:

And Mae made sure to visit the Saint Francis statue (and brought over the potting soil that she thinks is so amazing):

Then it was back inside to make Angel Food Cake for Michaelmas (which I forgot about until this morning!).  Now we're watching the weekends game and relaxing a bit!

Happy Feast of the Archangels!

Friday, September 28, 2012

9 Quick Takes Friday- Because 7 Just Wasn't Enough...

--- 1 ---


I survived today’s OB appointment without smacking anyone upside the head. That’s something.

I think I’ll spend the next six weeks praying fervently that my doctor is available when I go in for our birthing day. Or I'll hope that no one else from his practice is able to make it into the hospital before I have the baby.

I saw one of my doctor’s office partners today just so I could “get to know” everybody before the big day. My reaction to the meeting is mixed. On the one hand I am incredibly grateful that I was randomly assigned to my doctor. On the other hand I might throw something at the guy I saw today if he walked into my room while I was having the baby.

--- 2 ---

Before the appointment I sat in the waiting room, listening to someone in the back speak discouragingly about breast feeding to a mom who had delivered 24 hours earlier. She offered the young woman a huge supply of Similac and spoke about how some babies just hate breastfeeding. Problems with breastfeeding had never been mentioned. Another woman who apparently worked in the office was brought up in a disparaging tone because she “had never even bought formula during the first year.” This was apparently some sort of mortal offense.

 I went back for my sonogram and a pleasant technician showed me the baby’s various parts.

I watched as the baby’s head repeatedly measured in at 37 weeks 5 days (I’m 33 weeks 5 days). She estimated a size of 9 lbs at 40 weeks after all the computation together put the baby at around 6 ½ lbs and 35 and a half weeks.

My favorite news was that the baby had flipped around and moved into a good position for a natural birth. Score one for the “breech baby script” I’d listened to all week (because I would feel him start to turn and wiggle each time I listened!).

 Then it was time to meet the doctor. Or at least sit in the waiting room for a while longer.

--- 3 ---

In the waiting room an inquisitive young woman quizzed me on the pregnancy, gasping in horror when I answered that I didn’t plan on an epidural, and informing me that she had no idea how any mother could handle three children.

 I felt my smile beginning to become strained towards the end of the conversation and was thankful that her limited English meant that she couldn’t express quite as fully as she seemed to want to what she thought of an unmedicated birth.

I took a deep breath and re-read the birth script in my hypno-babies book about imagining a bubble around myself to keep out any negative thoughts. Which was really fortunate, because I was going to need it for the conversation with my doctor’s office partner.

--- 4 ---

When I saw the doctor in the hallway, with an information packet on VBACs, I had a sinking feeling. I’m not sure exactly why, since he seemed rather friendly.

After knitting for a few minutes he strolled into the room. And the fun began. You know, if a doctor told me that he was discouraging me from attempting a VBAC because he was worried about my health, I would be willing to listen to what he had to say. Lecturing me on the frequency of malpractice lawsuits in the US as a way to discourage me will quite simply annoy me.

Telling me that in your thirty plus years of experience as an OB you’ve never seen a uterine rupture during a VBAC, but that a lot of people sue… also isn’t going to bring about a major change of opinion in this area.  And it doesn't make me feel that you really care about what's best for your patients...

--- 5 ---

Then things got really fun.

I explained that I felt the risk of possible repeat c-sections was also something that should be looked at (which my own doctor said was perfectly reasonable and should be taken into account).
I added that because of my religious beliefs I wouldn’t be using artificial contraception (by the way, I had checked the box for Catholic at the top of my information paper).

With an obnoxious smirk Dr. Charming asked “Exactly what religion would that be?”

“We’re Catholic.” I told him.

“Well… Lot’s of Catholics find ways around that.”

“We’re practicing Catholics.” I said adamantly.

“There’s always the rhythm method.” He said.

Oh I'm sorry, I don't feel like having my body sliced up against the national recommendations, because it's more convenient to an insurance company somewhere... because there is something that does work to prevent pregnancy (I did correct him and say "NFP is very effective, but...").

I don't know.  The fact that methods of avoiding pregnancy are available, doesn't seem to me to require that I make a choice that could create a "serious" reason, if I don't need to.  I can understand a woman not undertaking a VBA2C.  But I also don't think I'm obligated to undergo major abdominal surgery because it's more convenient to schedule and easier to explain to an insurer if something goes wrong (and there was a list of the many risks of repeat c-sections... and they're every bit as scary as the VBAC list).

A few minutes later he made a comment indicating that he was Catholic (or at least raised Catholic, since he said that basically everyone in the country he was from was Catholic). Then with a voice dripping with condescension he began talking about the Muslim women he sees who believe “Allah will provide.”

Would this appointment ever end?

--- 6 ---

Then talked turned to how “dysfunctional” women’s uteruses became after five babies.

Apparently at five they just break down and become hysterical and can’t be counted on.

You just don’t know.

They might spit the baby out “like that” or they might just be worn out old bags and rupture. You never can tell.

I think that it was at this point that I began taking mental notes for a blog post...

--- 7 ---

“And how much did you gain with the other pregnancies when compared with this one?” He asked. 

Here was a question I could answer and I was certain he’d be pleased with my response.

“I gained over forty lbs with each of my girls. I’ve only gained 20 lbs this time.” I said proudly.

“What, does your husband have you on a strict diet this time?” He responded.

For some reason I don’t think he’ll be up for doctor of the year anytime soon.

--- 8 ---

He did find “one good thing” during the whole appointment.

Despite my two nine lb girls, I don’t have stretch marks. So my skin is stretchy. The other women he’s seen this with are his Somalian patients, who sometimes just “spit babies out” during VBACs. Yup.  So maybe I'd be like that.

The level of respect in the room was just astounding.

When breastfeeding came up I said that I’d accrued a grand total of 42 months… and he warned me not to get arrested for breastfeeding for too long.

He also told me that my doctor was “flexible” about me trying a VBAC, he was “okay with it” but that the doctor I’d be seeing next week wasn’t going to like it at all.

Awesome. I wonder if he’ll be an equally charming and respectful man…

--- 9 ---

One aspect of the appointment surprised me beyond all the others, and made the hour and a half I spent in the office worth it.

As I began to tell Paul about the appointment I was rather surprised. During the entire appointment, I never backed down or became upset. I responded to every comment he made calmly. I continued to ask questions, based on my own research (which clearly annoyed him) and wasn’t flustered, even when he was overwhelmingly condescending (and even when I began to think:  I have to blog about this!).

And that isn’t like me at all. I usually go along with whatever my doctors say, even when my head is screaming that they’re wrong and that the whole thing is ridiculous (and my instincts have tended to be correct).

I can’t help but think that this is a result of the hypno-baby scripts I’ve been listening too, which make me feel very relaxed and confident (especially the bubble script). I’ll definitely be going over them right before my next appointment… when I meet the doctor who’s supposedly actually hostile to VBACs…

Boy do I hope my doctor’s there when I have this baby!

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Bringing Home Nico! A Post with Pictures!

Some of you may remember that there's a special sale coupon and fundraiser going on in all three of my shops at the moment.  And I'm excited to say that I can now offer you even more information than I did last time (which I was just bursting to do with my last post, but was waiting for all the puzzle pieces to all into place!) along with a picture of the cute little guy you'll be helping bring home to his family with any purchase this month (or if you head straight over here and donate directly!).

Kara and her wonderful family are raising money to bring Nico, an adorable little red head with down syndrome, home from the orphanage where he's spend his life.  When Kara first shared on her blog that they were beginning their adoption journey, I was ecstatic!  I've known Kara through the blogosphere and facebook for a while now and I knew that she loved Nico and that she and her family had been praying for him to find a family for quite a while.  It was hard, even then when the adoption was still only a hope, not to think of him as part of her family, already.

Here's a wonderful little description from the family's Reece's Rainbow page:

"Kyle and Kara met in 2004 and quickly fell in love. They were blessed with 4 beautiful daughters soon after that and live a blissfully busy life.

When Kara discovered Reece’s Rainbow, it was like a dream come true. She has always been called to orphans and especially the work of Mother Teresa, but didn’t know how to help. So, having a tangible way to advocate for these children was amazing.
Then Kara saw Nico and everything changed. She fell head over heels in love, but because they were not able to adopt at that time, she vowed to advocate as hard as she could for him, in hopes that a family would find him. Things changed very quickly once that “yes” was on both Kyle and Kara’s hearts, and they have been blessed to walk through each door as it has opened. They are praying that they will be able to give Nico the home and family that he deserves soon."
And here are two pictures of the adorable little guy:

I just saw the second picture for the first time a few days ago, and I couldn't believe how much Nico had grown!!!  We need to get this little guy home to his Mommy and Daddy and sisters!

For anyone who's interested, there are several ways that you can help Nico come home to his family!  You can donate directly towards the cost of the adoption at Reece's Rainbow.  You can join me in stalking the family's adoption facebook page, where an upcoming Halloween auction will raise funds for this expensive process.  Or, if you're in a snood/headcovering/chaplet/rosary/jewelry/saint peg doll buying mood you can take this coupon ( SeptemberDonate10) which will be good until the end of this month, and will save you 10% in any of my stores and know that an additional 10% from all sales will go towards bringing Nico home.

I'm even pushing to sew as much as I can and have added ten new headcoverings (with another fifty or so waiting to be photographed, which should keep me busy these next few nights!), so that anyone interested has lots of new choices.  Here are a few of my favorites (you can see all the new listings here!):

I'm trying to post as many as I can on all three shops (hopefully I can do a new chaplet/jewelry photo shoot tonight for Full of Grace Creations), so that anyone who's thinking of shopping has lots of choices!

Anyways, I just had to share now that it was official that the McIntee family were working towards bringing their little boy home!  Reece's Rainbow is an amazing organization and the McIntee family are such a lovely family, I pray that there little boy is safe and snuggly in his new home soon!

And of course, prayers for Nico and his family and this whole process, are always appreciated!

Wednesday, September 26, 2012


I should start off this post by saying that I'm actually really loving the hypnobaby tracks I've been listening to this week, and am eagerly awaiting the arrival of my books, which the UPS website tells me are nowhere, although they're estimated delivery date is today (I have a feeling that's a computer scanning error and that they should be on our doorstep by dinner time).

Yet this week I've also been feeling a bit like a failure, mostly because of my seeming inability to not fall asleep when I'm listening to the Hypnobaby MP3s.  Here's the story of two nights ago:

It was still rather early, but I had finished my work for the day and went downstairs to sit on the couch and listen to the "Turn Your Breech Baby" track.  The previous two days I'd fallen asleep while listening to the tracks in our bedroom and I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I sat on the couch next to Paul and listened to it, I would stay awake.  I am cutting myself a bit of a break on this weeks progress, mainly because of the flu and the not-being-able-to-breath-particularly-well-thing that's been going on (I've been keeping track on the little lung capacity thing they gave me and I am solidly at 200... when apparently average for my size and age is 439... Does asthma that comes on during pregnancy usually go away after you have the baby?  This is the question I'm obsessing over that the moment...).  I've been needing to use my rescue inhaler about four times a day... and that doesn't lend well to mastering the breathing described in the program.

I sat down with the bottoms of my feet pressed together on the couch, asked Paul, who was done studying and was cruising around cyberspace on his computer if he minded if I listened to it there, and when he said he didn't, pressed play on my computer.

Now I should begin by saying that I was already pretty excited about how things were going so far, since, during the wakeful parts of my sessions, baby would actually start wiggling about dramatically and moving back and forth.  If I could just stay awake... I told myself.  The relaxation techniques were amazing.

I began to listen and baby immediately started moving around.  I was sitting up, with my back straight against the back of the couch, head tilted slightly backwards.  I made it to the visualizations of the baby turning and asking baby to turn, at which point I felt the couch shudder slightly with the silent laughter that was apparently going on at the other end, and I fought the urge to throw something at my husband, who was apparently quite amused by the track (I had a feeling he would be).  I think it was the "asking your baby if there's a reason he can't turn" part that got to him.

And then I opened my eyes and the MP3 player had moved on to the next track.  I had made it.

"That was quick!"  I said to Paul.
"You were snoring for the last twenty minutes."  He informed me.

While sitting up.  I felt a bit like a hyno-failure.

I went to bed and yesterday evening, after much movement at night, began to feel a hard little head that had moved down from my ribs and was now pressing against the top of my hips, and little kicking feet giving non-stop blows to my rib cage.  I think baby may have turned (we'll find out Friday afternoon when they check via ultrasound).  To me baby still feels diagonal, but only barely (and with his head down).  And breathing actually feels quite a bit easier, I slept on my left side last night without suffocating (baby moving? or inhaler?  or both?).  So I'm cautiously optimistic.

A hypno-success, despite my hyno-failure?

Now if only I could stay awake while listening.  It's almost impossible to find a time during the day, since Paul leaves in the morning and comes back at dinner time, and at night I find myself exhausted and falling asleep.  And after trying it when the girls were playing I learned that Mommy listening to hypnobabies and laying on the couch is just too tempting (Let's poke Mommy's nose!  Oh Mommy, is your head a seat?!?!  Mommy, are you being Sleeping Beauty?!?!?!).

I'll find a way to make it work.

Now I just have to wait for my books to arrive!  Hopefully I'll be able to move on the the VBAC tracks, since it seems baby has turned!  And hopefully the CDs will be here with the actual program to night.  Six weeks to my due date.  Can I fit in a five week program?  Only if baby decides to stay put!

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Perfect as I Am?

"The Saint is a medicine because he is an antidote. Indeed that is why the saint is often a martyr; he is mistaken for a poison because he is an antidote. He will generally be found restoring the world to sanity by exaggerating whatever the world neglects, which is by no means always the same element in every age. Yet each generation seeks its saint by instinct; and he is not what the people want, but rather what the people need..." 

~GK Chesterton: 'St. Thomas Aquinas

I came across this quote yesterday on facebook and the truth of the statement struck me, because so often the rallying cry I've heard since my conversion has been something about how Catholics are supposed to look and behave like everyone else and not be too extreme.

That always gives me pause because, while I know I'm a convert and have decades of catching up to do when it comes to knowledge, I've yet to read a story about a saint that struck me as someone who was "just like everyone else."

Sin has always been sin, and while there's nothing new under the sun, there seem to be times in history when certain sins have been publicly embraced rather than shunned as a trap to be avoided.  The normalization of certain sins can make any attempt to avoid that sin by others feel like a slap in the face.  Practicing virtue when we're told we can do whatever we want and "it's all good" isn't all that appealing... after all, virtues are hard to master and are seldom as much immediate fun as indulging in vice.  Being reminded that maybe we should be working on overcoming a particular flaw can be downright annoying, especially when the world tells us that we can do whatever we want to do and that our opinions and interpretations of good are actually the highest good we can attain.

Another facebook meme that I saw going around this week spoke of how God doesn't expect us to try to love perfectly, and how he sent us here to love imperfectly and become the most imperfect version of ourselves.  It goes on to say that love is supposed to be sweaty and messy and how we didn't come here to be perfected, because we already are, but that we came to be "flawed and fabulous."

While it's true that God doesn't expect us to be perfect, the logic of the quote, and the enthusiastic reaction to it from many of my friends, made me a little sick.  Striving to be the flawed and fabulous version of who I'd be without God's hand in my life, and the grace giving power of the sacraments, would be a disaster.  I've seen the train wreck that I am without God and while "messy" was a good adjective to describe it, it didn't feel all that fabulous.  And I just couldn't figure out why, because I was "being me."

The easy road that might seem immediately gratifying, but it leads to destruction at a varying pace depending on our choices.  The mentality that's so popular these days that tells us that we don't need to change at all, but that everyone should love us for our quirky wonderfulness, even when we're selfish and self destructive and we hurt others.  But we're just being ourselves and that's great, right?

Can our faith truly be alive though, if we're mouthing the right words on Sundays, and living as if we're our own personal savior the rest of the week?  Can we ignore our Savior's warnings about the effects of sin on our lives and his adamant statements that the path to salvation would not be easy?  Certainly he loves us, but we have been created with free will and we are given the chance to say yes or no to him over and over again.  Again and again we choose to draw nearer or turn away.

He knows that we will fail and fall short.  But he doesn't expect us to embrace our shortcomings as "who we are" and go happily along on our merry way.  He expects us to pick ourselves up out of the grim and dirt, dust ourselves off, and try again, reaching towards heaven... dreaming of heaven... longing for it with all our hearts and souls as our rightful home, and praying that we might be perfected in him.

Saints are often hated because they show us what we should be and we realize that what we should be isn't what we are.  No one likes that.  It's easier to avoid the mirror and ignore our own shortcomings, than to actively work to overcome them and seek God's will in our lives.

We want to believe that we can be our imperfect selves and that we can turn away from God and tell him no with our every decision and that he'll hand us a prize at the end of the day, pat us on the back and tell us that he knows we did our best.  But the truth is that he doesn't force his presence on us in that way.  He lets us decide whether we're turning towards him, or towards the alternative.  He loves us enough to let us choose, good or evil, heaven or hell.

And so we are free to embrace our imperfections and elevate them and say that they are "who we are." But they aren't truly who we are.  We are souls struggling towards our maker and the shortcomings and failings that we encounter are not what makes us, although they might warp us and obscure the truth.  They are hurdles to be overcome, through the grace of God.  God does not want us to embrace our messy imperfections.  He wants us to strive and long for him and keep our eyes focused on the heavenly goal that every soul longs for.  He wants us to love him, and to live our lives so that that truth echoes through every fiber of our being and through every decision that we make, perfecting us for the day when we might stand in his presence and worship him with all the angels and saints.

That path is never easy... but it is what we were made for.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Random Ramblings from a Monday Morning

Today is definitely better than yesterday (thank you to everyone for all of the prayers!!!), which gives me hope that this isn't going to be another month long ordeal!

I'm very thankful to have the inhaler now and to have begun to figure things out.

In other happy news, I actually left the bandage off my foot today.  It feels normal (I haven't tried jumping on it again, I'll leave that for a bit longer!) and isn't pink at all.  There's just a little purple scar where the nail was.

To continue on a random note, I broke down and turned on the heater this morning.  The babies are still acclimated to 70 degrees with 100% humidity being "cold"(after all, it was 80-something on Christmas Day) and aren't quite ready for the house to be 60 in the mornings, even when we are all bundled in flannel and fleece.  Thankfully the natural gas heater seems to heat the house in a extremely short amount of time.  It brought the temperature up past 64 (which is what I'd set it at) in about half an hour and hasn't gone back on.  Our gas bill was $12 last month, so I'm hoping it's not to outrageous now that we're using the heater.  The bricks do seem to hold heat in pretty well, so I'm hopeful.

We also already had one tearful incident this morning.  It involved me telling Sadie repeatedly to give Mae Bae a bit more space.  Mae didn't seem to feel like being showered with kisses, cuddles and tickled.  Sadie apparently didn't think I knew what I was talking about and tickled her sister one last time.

Mae Bae, who usually has a pretty long temper, snapped and bit her sister on the nose.  There were teeth marks.  There were tears.  Mae Bae is claiming self defense.  Sadie does not appear to have learned her lesson and the words "give your sister a little bit of space" has already left my mouth again.

Hopefully we're all feeling well enough to go outside again soon.  The cool air still means coughing for everyone right now, so I don't think we'll be venturing outside just yet...  Maybe tomorrow if everyone keeps improving!

Sunday, September 23, 2012

A Trip to Urgent Care: A Nebulizer and Inhaler...

On a totally random note, have any of you other bloggers been getting a ridiculous amount of spam comments lately?  It's definitely made keeping comment moderation on a necessity, because there are so many every single day now.  And they're pretty nonsensical.

We made the trip across town to an Urgent Care clinic this morning (it took two tries to find one that accepted our insurance).  Thankfully when I arrived there was only one other person there waiting (I was hoping since it was Sunday morning it would be slow).  The wait was almost an hour, which made me extra grateful when I left and saw the full waiting room, and wondered how long I would have spent waiting if I'd arrived an hour later.

Everyone there was really friendly and after listening to my lungs and talking about what had happened the doctor ordered a breathing test and a breathing treatment.

I was sure I'd do pretty well on the test, since my breathing in the morning tends to be much better than it is later in the day (or ugh... at night).  However on the little breathing machine I scored between 150-200... with the "average" I was trying for being 439.  The breathing treatment helped out almost instantly.  I could actually breath in without coughing.  They came back in and my breathing was up to 350 and, with quite a few instructions (like go to the ER if it gets worse and we aren't open) and a prescription for albuterol I went on my way (feeling much, much better).

And as the breathing treatment wears off I have to say that I would really love to have a nebulizer of my very own... I felt amazingly better after using it.  We will be setting up a humidifier in the room too.

Now to lay on the couch and resist cleaning for the day... the house looks like two small tornados have spent two days ripping it to pieces (which is more or less true).  I am not looking forward to putting everything back together once I'm on my feet again!

Ugh (Because This Post Doesn't Deserve a Better Title...)

If you don't want to start your morning off with ridiculous whining, this might be a good post to skip.  Because this post is definitely on the whiny side... and filled with sentence fragments, maybe from the lack of oxygen to my brain...  I'll throw in some baby frowns so it isn't entirely unbearable:

There are few things that I dislike more than being sick and pregnant at the same time.

The flu struck our house this week, starting with Sadie, then spreading to me, and finally striking Mae Bae.  We're not sure whether or not Paul's going to get sick... but his bad back is flaring up... so the whole house is pretty off at the moment.  

Thankfully the girls' bug seems pretty easily beaten back by regular doses of medicine ever four hours.  They're ready to run around and go outside and play.  Mommy?  Not so much.  

Unfortunately the combo of being pregnant and sick means that any medicine that actually works is off the table.  Robitussin.  Plain old tylenol.  And Benadryl.  These are the options of the moment.  And I'm fairly certain I've rolled right through cold back into "asthmatic bronchitis" again, which was made evident by some rather scary hours last night of wheezing and coughing, where my lungs were working enough to get some air... but where any less would have been a major problem.  I'm not appreciating the doctor in Florida at the moment who didn't want to write a prescription for an inhaler because I'm pregnant.  The fact that I knew Paul's inhaler was somewhere nearby was the only thing that held off a full of panic attack.  And thankfully it did pass.

I realized sometime around three am that if I laid on my right side I had a gigantic headache.  Switching sides made the headache milder, but breathing on my left side was completely impossible, as the air just wouldn't go into my lungs.  At all really.  So right side it was.  

I'm thinking I need to find an urgent care clinic today that's hopefully open on Sunday's.  I'm flat out refusing to return to the ER for a cold.  Even if that's what my... (I'm searching... but I can't find an adjective that's appropriate for use here... although several less charitable words are coming to mind...) doctor's office suggested... since they can fit me in sometime in November.  

On the upside, at least this is now... and not November.  Labor feeling like this would be a serious problem.

I'm not sure how many Sunday Masses I've missed this year, but I know it's a lot.  In fact I think if you took all the times I'd missed Sunday Mass since I converted five and a half years ago and multiplied it by five you'd probably have a similar number to what I've missed this year.  Between a month of bedrest, a month of bronchitis and not being able to take both girls on my own since I'm not supposed to lift Mae Bae (and let's face it... someone is going to need to lift Mae Bae during mass, and mass at our parish involves stairs...) I'm feeling a little frustrated at the moment.  I'll have to talk to Paul about talking to the priest today about communion for the sick... 

Sorry for this extremely whiny post...  I have all these actual posts ideas of substance bouncing around in my head, but between the sleep deprivation and the sickness fog in my brain, this is as good as it's going to get this morning...  Really few thoughts at the moment can actually overcome my longing for a plain old cough syrup that actually works...

Saturday, September 22, 2012

6 Years!

Six years ago today we were married.  Seven years ago today we went on our first date.  And so, in honor of today, I put together a few pictures that are (more or less) taken in fall of each year (since it seems increasingly difficult to find a picture in which we're both present and aren't the ones snapping a picture!).  Here's a look at the last six years!


1 Year

2 Years

3 Years

4 Years

5 Years

6 Years

Okay, so the last two pictures are from summers of their respective years, since no fall pictures of all of us apparently exist.

And I wouldn't mind if no pictures survive from today since three out of four of us have the flu and the other one of us is hobbling around like a little old man since his college football back injury flared up yesterday and he can barely walk at the moment...

It's looking like it's going to be a memorable anniversary!

Chicken noodle soup and hot tea for everyone!