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Archive for the ‘Happiness’ Category

I think when I pictured coming back to work everything would be on a smooth schedule.

I’d wake up refreshed, after Brooklyn slept through the night, in her crib, in her own room. I’d say bye to her and she’d give me a big smile and I’d head to work, excited to get a little me time again. I’d come home, excited to see her, play with her, read her a book before putting her to bed then having a little me time to eat dinner and relax before bed.

HA-HA.

Monday I started work again. To say I was (am) a big ball of emotions is an understatement.

For one, I’m exhausted. Long story short, we determined a few weeks ago that Brooklyn has silent reflux. She started to refuse to eat – basically she would eat an ounce or two then scream bloody murder for an hour. It became alarming when it happened with every bottle, and worse when the ounces she was eating started to dwindle day by day. 5+ weeks of trial and error – doctor visits (including one amazing doctor at Children’s hospital), medications, tears, and a lot of patience (i.e. keeping her elevated 30 minutes post eating and when sleeping, feeding her slowly and burping her lots), and we’re in a better place (still not 100% but MUCH better). Anyway, because of this, she’s still eating much smaller amounts more frequently – I’m talking practically newborn state again. I’m thankful that this is something she will grow out of and blessed that while it may be a tough few months, overall she’s healthy.

Anyway, she’s actually sleeping in our room, in our bed. She “goes” to sleep (on me/in my arms) around 8, up to eat again around 10:30, asleep around 11, up again at 2, asleep around 3, up again at 5 and sometimes back asleep, sometimes not. Meaning I’m averaging truthfully, about 5 hours of broken sleep a night.

So right now…this is a new day in the life…

2:00am – Brooklyn stirs. Quickly pick her up before she goes into full on screaming mode. Feed her 4 ounces. (This is usually the largest feed she’ll take since she’s half asleep. During the day we’re still only getting 2-3 ounces in her at a time.)

2:40am – Lay Brooklyn back down after finishing bottle, burping her, holding her upright for at least 20 minutes.

3:00am – Finally drift back off to sleep.

4:30am – Stirring. Not sure if it’s the medications or just the immaturity still of her digestive system but she writhes quite a bit in her sleep. Always wakes me up.

5:00am – Scream fest begins. Feed her another 2 ounces. Try to settle her but she just isn’t settling.

5:45am – She finally drifts off. I contemplate sleeping another 20 minutes or just getting up. Try to lay down but all I can think about is work so I get up and shower.

6:00-7:20am – Shower, dry hair, get dressed, get Brooklyn’s medications out, wash and fill bottles for my MIL who is taking care of her most afternoons once the Husband goes to work until we start a few days of daycare in June. Lay out clothes for her. Throw laundry in. Throw dishes in dishwasher. Drink coffee…x2

7:30am – Leave for train station. Cry en route. Strange mix of emotions – on one hand I love my job and it feels good to work again. But there’s this inner struggle – I feel guilty for wanting to work. I feed sad for missing out on moments with Brooklyn. And really, I just plain miss her. I’m so overwhelmed with emotions and exhaustion that I wish I could just drive to a secluded island by myself.

7:50am – Train to the city.

8:40am – Starbucks en route to my office. Try to order a grande blonde roast, only twice it came out as a Blondey roast. Barista laughs at me and asks if I want a venti instead.

8:50am – Sit down at my desk..with my venti.

9:00-4:00ish – Work, work, work. Go into the bathroom and cry twice (hey I expected more!) Connect with other new moms at work and get confirmation that the first month is really hard and that’s normal. Check in with my MIL a few times, ask for pictures. Hear all the new drama, get a crap ton of new work, and try to ease back in. There are moments where it just feels really good to be working again.

4:25pm – Train home. My manager leaves by 4 and comes in later than me so as long as I can, I plan on being efficient enough (I skip lunch anyway) to leave at the same time too.

5:15pm – Walk in the door and immediately grab my girl. Slightly heartbroken she doesn’t seem more excited but I know 5pm starts her fussy time and at least I get a smile. (Also, I’m not sure what I’m expecting from a 14 week old, ha.)

5:30pm – Changed out of my work outfit, took Bentley outside and get updates from my MIL before she leaves.

5:45pm – Attempt to feed her, get only 2 ounces in and then she refuses more.

6:10pm – It’s beautiful out so decide to take her on a quick stroller walk around the neighborhood for some fresh air. Chat with (at?) her the whole time – people must think I’m a nuts.

6:40pm – Come home, change her diaper and “read” a book (read to her while she laughs at me / looks around), tell her about my day.

7:15pm – Give her medication and draw a bath. She’s in clingy mode so carry her around while doing all of this.

7:30pm – Tubby time! Sing her the tubby time song (“tubby time, tubbbby tubby tubby tubby time, time to wash all the yuckies away, it’s the best part of the daaay” (Don’t ask.) She truly loves tubby time and it actually is my favorite part of the day.

7:50pm – Get her in a clean diaper, put her in her jammies and settle her a bit. Carry her in one arm while eating pasta salad (my dinner) with one hand standing at the counter while Bentley begs at my feet.

8:15pm – She’s hungry. This girl goes from 0-60. Warm a bottle while she starts to pant and panic.

8:35pm – Got 3.5 ounces in, not too bad. Burp burp burp. Sway sway sway.

8:50pm – Rock her / keep her upright.

9:00pm – Lay her in the rock-n-play (since it’s more upright) and run around like a chicken with my head cut off. Pick out work outfit. Take out contacts. Go to the bathroom. Chug an emergen-c (fighting a cold). Brush teeth. Bring bottles up for nighttime feeds. Set up bedroom – nightlight, sound machine/fan. Give Bentley water/food.

9:12pm – She’s awake…

9:15pm – Walking around while carrying her, trying to resettle her.

9:30pm – Husband gets home from work. He’s had a really long day – court in the morning then a 9 hour shift.

10:00pm- Head to bed, with Brooklyn. Get about 1.5 ounces in her before calling it quits.

10:28pm – Last time I look at my phone before falling asleep…hoping for at least a 4 hour stretch. (Spoiler, I got about 3.5 hours)
****

Even though I’m exhausted, overwhelmed by emotions, sick (thanks Husband for this awful head cold), and life is just so different now…I love it. I really do. I mean I don’t love all parts of it of course, but I love this little girl, I love our new expanded family, I love shaking up what was once our routine (we thought we were “busy” before…we sure watched a lot of tv) and I love how special everything feels now. I have learned pretty quickly that each phase/hard time/new normal with a baby passes quickly. The good ones and the bad. So as much as I’m a type A, need a schedule and routine and to do lists type, I think for a while I’m ok with just enjoying this roller-coaster of a time period.

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I’m in a weird state of wanting and having so many things to write about – but somehow I just haven’t made the time. I have a feeling in a few weeks I may be writing a lot more again.

I’m currently 33 weeks and 2 days pregnant. Holy moly time flies when you’re pregnant. I’m officially in the getting uncomfortable stage. There are still moments/hours where I forget I’m pregnant (seriously, sometimes I feel so normal) but now there are more and more moments (usually at night) where I feel very much pregnant. I can’t always catch my breath, can’t get comfortable, piercing back pains (mid and upper back, not lower like I expected), hip pain, feeling super hungry then super full, and lots of tossing and turning at night.

I’m also sort of over all the pregnancy comments and advice at this point. I take it all in stride, and truthfully it’ll probably only get worse once I have a newborn but it’s funny how much and what people comment about. The amount of people who will negatively comment about what I choose to not eat/drink it so surprising (I guess I expected it the other way, people telling me not to eat or drink things versus questioning when I don’t). It’s funny because I know people who have gone on such restrictive diets – be in juice cleanses, paleo, whole30, whatever the case to lose weight (in a healthy or even not so healthy way) and choose not to eat things because it doesn’t make them feel good or impacts them in some way (the amount of dairy free, gluten-free, caffeine free, etc. friends I have has I swear doubled) – and yet when I say no, sorry, I’m not drinking any alcohol, no I’m not eating lunch meats, etc. it becomes almost an argument. “you really can’t have any? Would once really be that bad? Is this little bit of cheese really going to do anything?” It’s like…giving up some unpasteurized cheese, runny eggs, or a glass of wine for 9 months – is nothing compared to making sure this is a healthy baby that I don’t hurt in any way shape or form. More than ever I care about what I am putting into my body because it’s not just about me. At the same time too, I would never ever judge anyone for what they decide to do or not do when pregnant. I would never, ever forgive myself it anything happened as a result of that one time. If they comfortable doing something – it’s their body and their baby – it’s not something I would ever comment on! I mean… do you know how many nights in a row I have eaten rocky road ice cream? Maybe someone should comment on that, ha. 🙂

I have these moments where I feel so lucky, blessed and excited (borderline impatient) for this little girl to arrive. Then to be honest I am having more and more moments of fear. It’s so soon! I just can’t fathom how things will change. How the Husband and I will change, how it won’t just be “us” anymore, how it will impact Bentley, how tired I’ll be, if I’ll feel alone at all, what if I don’t feel the immediate connection with her and I’m not a “natural” mom? What if I completely feel lost and depressed by staying home for 14 weeks – and not working – something I have done since the age of 13 without break. What if I take out my tired/frustration/fears on the Husband and we totally crumble? What if all we can talk about – to each other and everyone else – is diapers and poop and babies?

Things with Bentley have been a little crazy over the past few weeks – but somehow I think it all worked out for the best. Long story short, we got a call two weeks or so ago that right after Bentley was dropped at his daycare, he bit another dog. Apparently a dog was jumping on him, the owner saw Bentley growl at the dog, the dog kept jumping on him and Bentley turned his head and bit the dog. He bit her right on the head so it caused an open gash and that dog had to go to the vet. Unfortunately, the daycare owner said he just can’t watch the dogs that closely – and that Bentley seems to want to be able to have personal space throughout the day at different times and since this is one open room for 30 dogs, that doesn’t work and unfortunately now that he has bitten another dog, he just isn’t allowed to return. In other words, my dog got expelled!

I had some immediate reactions when I got the call. First, like a failed parent, I felt embarrassed. Then upset. Then, and maybe I’m rationalizing it, a little annoyed. I mean he admitted to seeing Bentley show a warning sign – and still did not separate them. Then totally overwhelmed – we were about to go away to a wedding in Baltimore the week after, and where would he stay if not at his normal daycare? Then I took action, as fast as I could. First the Husband picked him up, and the owner reiterated the story – and apparently seemed sad about it since they like him and he’s been going there for a year now, but quickly we started realizing – maybe he doesn’t love it as much as we thought. And maybe a place with that many dogs and no personal space isn’t the best place for him anyway, especially with his aloof shepherd qualities. And so I quickly found an alternative for boarding – a place actually closer to us that my Aunt brings her two dogs (who would also be boarded at the same time since she and my uncle were coming to the same wedding). In the end Bentley had his own kennel and run, and was taken out twice a day to play with his Westie cousin dogs, and walked by the Mom and daughter who own the place. He got rave reviews and came home happy and exhausted.

In terms of a daycare – I think we are realizing – maybe he doesn’t need 3+ days of daycare a week. Instead, we have found a new place that he is doing a trial at today, also closer to home, where we can bring him if he likes it maybe 1x a week just to get his zoomies out and keep him socialized. I was completely honest with the woman about what happened at the previous daycare and so they will begin with “day boarding” – where he gets his own room, toys, and will be taken out on 5 short walks a day and will meet dogs one by one through a fence or in the play yard if they see it as a good fit. If he enjoys being around the other dogs, then he will join playtime with a maximum group of 7 dogs with the same temperament. All dogs have “nap/quiet time” in their own rooms from 12:30-2:30 which I think is a good break for him anyway. So we’ll see how it goes. Overall reducing his daycare will save us a couple hundred a month!

I have to admit, one of the best things about keeping him home – while it makes me feel bad that he sits in the house on my non WFH days from about 11am-6pm alone – is that the Husband and I are actually spending more quality time with him. He used to come home from daycare so utterly exhausted he would go up to the bed and sleep. Now we play more outside (he loves to sprint through the yard, but only if we are outside watching), we’re doing tricks and training again at night – lots of puzzles, he seems to enjoy being in the house more and is almost always by our sides, and he’s already being a bit more social with people when they come over. It only takes about 10-15 minutes of sprints outside to completely exhaust him, something I can easily do in the mornings before work and at night when I get home. To be honest, I forgot how much fun I have when we play and do training, and most of the time, he seems content to just be around us.

I’m going through a strange phase at work. One minute I’m pushing hard, focused, and getting so much done (I think preparing to be out) and then moments of pure impatience, frustration with little things, and just wanting to get to the point where I’m going out on leave. I know I will want to go out feeling like I got everything I could done, so I need to spend the next few weeks really focusing on work.

I’m also going through a phase where I really want to make an effort to make plans and spend time with friends and family while I can – but more specifically – positive people who also make an effort too. I’m sort of tired of trying so hard when it’s not reciprocated or leaving hangouts feeling negative or mentally exhausted and drained, especially when I have some new (well not new, but not my regular core group) making a good effort to see me. I have dinner with a handful of girlfriends this Wednesday, dinner with two old college friends who I don’t see often but one is about a month behind me in her pregnancy, on Thursday, a full day of brunch and my sister’s dance show on Saturday with my Mom, my Mother-in-law, Sister-in-law and two family friends, then mid next week dinner with my old boss and coworker. I’m also trying to keep some time free on weekends for organizing and cleaning in preparation of the baby. The Husband and I also have a full Saturday birthing class coming up, as well as a night where we tour/go through the practice triage process in the hospital, a friend’s birthday that I’m hoping to spend some time with her celebrating, my baby shower later this month (with a few college friends making it a big girls sleepover weekend – the highlight of my month!), and more. I think January is going to fly by!

Funny story, the Husband and I had a wedding down in Baltimore over New Year’s Eve. It was actually so fun, even at 8 months pregnant and sober, and I loved getting all the extra family time for the few days (with moments of course of I NEED SPACE). My cousin, who was the one getting married, actually shares a friend with B (yes, that B). Ironically, this friend and his wife are pregnant, so my cousin sat them at our table, also with my sister and cousins. Somehow they ended up sitting right next to the Husband. I didn’t actually put two and two together until halfway through dinner – and I never said anything to him or anyone about it. What is sort of funny about it though is that there were SO many glasses on the table (4 per person, plus any glasses people brought with their own drinks from the bar) so when the husband sat down at one point he hit a champagne glass that went flying and COVERED this guy (he might as well have thrown it directly in his face). He took it very nicely, and I could tell the Husband felt so bad (but at 230lbs, 6’3 and a regular bull in a china shop he just can’t be near that many glasses). I have no idea if he connected who I was, but hopefully he doesn’t think it was on purpose. Well, actually I don’t really care as I’ll never see them again. 😉

My dreams lately when I do sleep, are crazy. I think my fears and anxieties are coming into play in my sleep because I have had countless dreams of fighting with friends, including a fist fight with my best friend from home (which is hilarious to think about in real life because it would never, ever happen). A number of dreams and scenarios of the Husband either cheating on me (and me seeing it, ugh) or him not paying attention to me and me feeling really sad and alone. It doesn’t take much to see what my dreams are getting at, but man I wish they would stop. As it is I’m practically an insomniac at this point and when I do sleep, to wake up feeling like crap after a dream like that really isn’t fun.

Somehow over the Holiday time off the Husband and I watched 4 movies. Gone Girl, the Good Lie, the Equalizer and This is Where I leave You. I read Gone Girl so had been dying to see it, but as always the case, it just wasn’t as good as the book. I swear in the book they did a better job of making you hate them equally, while in the movie, you have far more hate towards the wife. The Husband also figured out the plot far earlier than I did in the book – be it his detective skills or the hints were just easier to pick up on. The Good Lie was a great movie, based off the Lost Boys from Sudan and it definitely made us remember how damn lucky we are in America and with what we have. The Equalizer was silly – the Husband liked it because it was Denzel and it was a revenge type of movie – it was predictable but entertaining. This is Where I Leave You was my favorite and just my type of movie. The kind that is a little dark, funny, makes you laugh/cry and sort of is just an honest look at regular life and being an adult.

I think from now on I may just write more. My posts may not be put together, grammatically correct, or even make any coherent sense – but I miss writing so much. I miss pouring out my thoughts, memories and experiences even if they are just for me to reread one day.

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Saying goodbye to my 20’s is a strange thing. I wish I could say some profound statement about my 20’s but I can’t seem to put things into words the way I used to.

I’m a firm believer that every year gets better and better. Even the so-called “tough” years are still learning experiences where I find that I look back and still think of them as some of my best years.

When I do look back, it’s easy to review my 20’s and pull out some monumental moments each year.

2005: Age 20:

  • Living abroad in Hobart, Tasmania
  • The rest is sort of hazy… it was my senior year of college!

2006: Age 21:

  • Graduating from college
  • Moving to Boston with a group of college friends
  • Getting my first apartment with my cousin
  • Getting my first real job

2007: Age 22:

  • Switching jobs and career paths completely
  • Travelling to Ecuador with friends (and dumbly going waterfall repelling with inexperienced guides…and coming home with a parasite)
  • Breaking up with my boyfriend of 5 years
  • Moving into an apartment by myself in Fenway
  • Starting my master’s program
  • Being single and dating for the first time

2008: Age 23:

  • I’d be lying if 23 wasn’t mostly about B. I met him just after my 23rd birthday.
  • Falling in love, real love – all consuming, bring out the best in you, can’t get enough – love.
  • Travelling to Mexico with friends
  • Running my first ever road race, a St. Patrick’s Day 5k
  • Moving again, still in Fenway
  • Getting promoted at work

2009: Age 24:

  • Travelling to Nova Scotia with B
  • Travelling to Paris with a group of 5 girlfriends
  • Getting promoted at work again
  • Moving, again still in Fenway
  • Experiencing my first heartbreak. Utter soul-crushing heartbreak. I still think this was one of the best experiences of my life.

2010: Age 25:

  • Travelling to Mexico with my family
  • Travelling to Ireland with B (as friends)
  • Graduating from my master’s program
  • Getting promoted at work again
  • Starting this blog
  • Training and finishing my first triathlon
  • Taking up boxing

2011: Age 26:

2012: Age 27:

  • Getting engaged to the Husband and planning a wedding
  • Moving in with the Husband and moving to South Boston
  • Travelling to Toronto with a group of girlfriends

2013: Age 28:

  • Getting married to the Husband
  • Spending a week straight in St. Lucia with the Husband
  • Switching jobs, same company but completely different and new career path
  • Moving again, this time out to the burbs
  • Adopting Bentley!

2014: Age 29:

The thing is, these monumental moments truly were wonderful and some of what I’m most thankful for in my life. But just as important are all the little moments throughout the past 10 years, good and bad. The summer nights spent laughing at the beach with my girlfriends each summer. The heartache but coming together of my family when my grandmother passed away or when we sold the beach house. The night of my birthday celebration, the one where B had just broken my heart, and staying in with a handful of girlfriends in a hotel room while I just cried and cried and they just listened. The feeling of my confidence, self-worth and independence growing as I trained for my first triathlon. The (many) 3am nights of last-minute paper writing to complete my master’s program. The joy, laughter and tears while watching so many friends get married. The fear but excitement of picking up Bentley and learning to care for and adjust to having my first dog. The hours of arguments or not seeing eye to eye with the Husband – to get us to a place where we still aren’t perfect, but we communicate so much better. The feeling of coming home and snuggling with my Husband, Bentley and my growing baby bump.

Life is damn good. Life is magical, and I truly mean that. The good and bad – it’s gotten me to this point. I wouldn’t take any of it back.

I can’t imagine, and I can’t wait to see what my 30’s bring. Happy 30th to me!

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Tuesday afternoon I treated myself to a prenatal massage. I was a little nervous not knowing exactly what to expect and if it would be comfortable or not and was surprised to see that I was still lying face down for the first part – just on top of a bunch of pillows with a sort of belly area in the middle. The first half of the massage was pretty good, although without her being able to put pressure on my lower back (where my pain is right now) it was less pain/muscle soreness reducing and more relaxing. About 20 minutes in, I was practically in a sleep state when I felt the softest flutter in my stomach. The only way to explain it is like butterfly wings moving down the inside my stomach for just a second. In my head I immediately thought, oh my God I feel the baby, but seeing as this is my first, wasn’t really sure. The massage continued on, and while I love a good massage, I’ll be honest and say I’m not sure it was worth the money in the end. Anyway, last night as I was going to bed, about 20 minutes after trying to fall asleep and just lying there, the flutter happened again. Just once, and so softly, but I swear I felt it. I don’t think I have felt it since though…

Tuesday night while Husband and I were grilling dinner (buying that grill has been the best purchase ever) I was playing with Bentley. At one point I had a stick in my hand and was pretending to throw it so he was running while looking at me and BAM into the deep end (10 feet deep) of the pool he fell. Now I know what everyone is thinking – dogs can swim – all dogs can swim – but I swear mine can’t. We have tried to get him to slowly go into ponds, oceans, etc. and he’ll wade but whenever he gets deep he sort of panics and thrashes versus swimming. So he fell in and I immediately went over to see him bobbing under and above water with his butt and back legs completely sinking. I pulled him out and he shook himself off and then went playing along and…I cried. He’s shown no interest in the pool but the idea of him falling in really freaks me out. The next warm day I’m taking a page from Caesar Milan and getting in the pool with him and showing him how to get out via the steps at the shallow end. Last night he kept trying to get out of the side but the water isn’t high enough, and I worry after 10 minutes of that … who knows.

I’m loving our house. I still don’t quite feel settled or unpacked by any means, but the progress between the renovations being done and the painting is amazing.

I’m ridiculously into the show Big Brother. It’s a show that has apparently been on for like 10+ years and I have never once watched an episode until this year and somehow I found myself hooked. It’s so stupid and silly and yet… it’s the one summer show I’m watching.

When we got married and got all our wedding presents, aside from gifts cards, rather than take them to our apartment at the time, we kept them at my in-laws. We have just started bringing them all over to our house and OMG it’s like Christmas! All new dishes, pots, pans, grill set, pillows, and more.

Tall decaf non-fat cappuccino with one pump cinnamon dulce…oh my word delicious. My new favorite drink that I can pretend is caffeinated.

I am finally starting to feel like a human again. Happy, energized, excited, and (mostly) non-nauseated!

90’s on 9 (satellite radio) or Spotify best of the 90’s playlist = sure fire way to find me singing and dancing as I apparently know the lyrics of every damn 90’s song.

This is my first weekend in months that I am home, I have minimal plans (aside from a shopping date with a friend and my first haircut in 7 months). TGIF.

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My biggest fear was that time would pass so slowly during the first trimester. While the days can sometimes feel long, the weeks are flying by. I don’t know if it’s the combination of just being so busy – between buying the house, work and so many social activities – or if this is just normal.

On Monday at just over 9 weeks we had our second ultrasound and it was probably the most incredible thing I have ever seen. Actually hearing that fast little heart beat – nothing compares. It’s the most amazing and magical thing. I still can’t believe it’s all real, and I’m just feeling so weepy and blessed since. I mean WE’RE HAVING A BABY!

Anyway…

Weight gained:
-1lb since last weigh-in, so about 3-4lbs overall. Pretty sure it’s still constipation unfortunately. In the morning my pants fit, by evening they are too tight, then back to fitting – all depending on the time of day!

Workouts:
Lots of walking around, packing and cleaning. I’m counting it because seriously, by evening time I’m usually taking a nap I’m so drained.

Symptoms:
“Morning sickness” for me is really night sickness. It seems that like clockwork around 4:00pm each day I start to feel extra queasy, tired, and SO irritable. It’s almost comical how I go from feeling sort of OK to a crazy person. I’m trying to just take it easy in the evenings as much as I can, and I’m thankful I’m at least productive at work but I’m looking forward to getting past this one.

I hope this isn’t a new symptom but lately, I fall dead asleep around 10pmish then BAM around 1-3am I wake up…and I can’t fall back asleep. I spent 3 hours awake the last few nights watching crappy tv and trying to get tired and it was so frustrating.

Oh and I’m weepy as hell. Pretty much any commercial, conversation, or song about love, babies, animals – you can expect tears. And not like a few tears, I’m talking choking sobs.

Food Aversions:
Up until yesterday I was not loving food. It was really frustrating because if I don’t eat I get nauseous but most things sounded yucky and if I cook it, I will not eat it. I don’t want meat, eggs, really anything…

I also haven’t even had decaf coffee, I think I want it then I grab some and I can’t drink it.

As of this morning, (please don’t jinx myself) I am sort of feeling more like myself. Energized, not overly queasy, and happy. I ate a bowl of raisin bran with banana happily, and I’m just crossing my fingers the nausea peaked and it’s on its way out.

Food Cravings:
Finally I’m having a few very intense cravings:
Peaches and plums. I had a peach yesterday and it was the best thing I have had in a while and I plan on going back and buying a dozen more.
Burger King Chicken Sandwiches. I wish this wasn’t true, but for a few days it was the ONLY thing I wanted. I finally caved and had one and omg, it was unbelievable. It’s taking all my willpower not to get another.
Chocolate milk. Finally had some yesterday and it was amazing and the easiest way for me to get my daily milk in when I’m not feeling cereal.
Tuna sandwiches with plain potato chips. My doctor said it’s OK to do one can or packet a week (max) so I plan on having one today.

Sleep:
Naps, insomnia, fatigue – it goes in circles.

Miss Anything?
Same as always – turkey sandwich and coffee (or the act of drinking coffee if that makes sense).

Fun and/or Interesting Things from the Week:
We announced! After our last ultrasound the doctor confirmed that our risk of miscarriage is as low as it’s going to get and nothing magically changes or reduces that risk between now and second tri so to go ahead and announce. Ahhh, it was SO MUCH FUN to finally tell everyone and hear reactions and just be open about it. Now I can be honest about how I’m feeling and all these things going on in my head!

Happy or moody most of the time:
If I’m being honest, I’m mostly sort of moody, especially at night. I know it’s hormones and fatigue, so I’m just trying to give myself a break and stay positive. Today I feel really positive, excited and happy!

New Baby Items:
Books! What to expect when you’re expecting, and What to expect in the first year.

Looking Forward To:
Finding out the gender. While we will be so happy with either (we truly just want a healthy baby) I can’t stop trying to guess. Right now, Husband thinks it’s a boy (I think he secretly prefers a boy, or really, he’s just terrified of having a girl and having to deal with boyfriends, haha) and my older sister thinks it’s a boy. My best friend from home thinks it’s a girl. I really don’t know. Part of me thinks it’s a boy (because of my dream, and the lack of other symptoms) but then deep down I’m wondering if it’s a girl (since I come from a family of a lot of girls). We will actually find out on the Husband’s 30th birthday, September 26th.

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Coffee was, and let’s be honest, still is, one of my most favorite things in the world.

On an average day I will have a cup of keurig coffee at home, a venti blonde roast from starbucks, and usually another 16 ounces of coffee from my office.

I love the smell of it, the warm happiness it always brings.

I love waking up and first thing sipping a hot mug of coffee. On sunny days, rainy days, and wintry snow days – I just love it.

I love how it reminds me of road trips.

I love the me time behind it. My first cup of coffee each morning is usually by myself. It’s quiet and peaceful.

I love the social aspect of it too. How having a cup of coffee during the day or weekend mornings with someone usually includes conversation and time to connect.

I truly, deeply, love coffee. Giving it up was so, so hard.

But it’s been worth every single second because just a few weeks ago I started growing what is already one of my most favorite things in the world. And keeping that someone healthy and growing is more important to me than my coffee addiction.

Yes. Yes, I am.

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God willing, Baby Pursuit of Happiness…expected February 2015*. 🙂

*I know it’s extremely early. If you know me IRL or on social media, please do not post about this. We haven’t told many people yet but more than anything I need to talk about it. The process to get “here”. The fears, anxieties, and overwhelming feeling of happiness. I need an outlet. So while the rest of the world still won’t know for a bit of time, this place will. And if God forbid, it doesn’t work out this time, I know this will be a place I’ll turn to.

 

 

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Whelp, it’s been quite a crazy few weeks. I don’t even remember when or what I last wrote.

The past few weekends since STT have been so wonderful, with much less travel. The Husband and I spent the majority of those weekends (aside from a few friends and family dinners) house hunting. I created a crazy little spreadsheet of course, with every house in our price range available in the area we wanted, along with all the various information (lot size, sq ft., bedrooms, bathrooms, etc.) and we mapped out the open houses and went with our realtor to others. We made sure to get pre-approved so if we did make an offer, it would be taken seriously.

After walking through about 15 houses total, I felt pretty disappointed. Nothing looked like the pictures. Everything was a fixer upper (to the extreme). A few houses smelled, I’m talking smelled like someone died in there. (One of my house notes is actually “someone definitely died on this god-awful green carpet.”)

After seeing a house that we really thought we would love, but quickly realized it would need a good 75+k in renovations and updates, we went off to see a house on a street that both the Husband and I continuously drove down and prayed for a house to come on the market. In fact, there was one house on that street right when we started looking but it sold in 1 day!

You would think we would have been more excited to go see it, but it was listed almost at the top of our price range (well what we wanted to spend to be able to put 10% down), and we just assumed it would still need a whole host of updates much like the others. Plus it had a pool. (Many people see that as a positive – I feared the liability, kids, Bentley and of course maintenance.)

But see, we walked into the house and I just knew. Finally. A house that felt like home.

You walk into a mud room, and then into this big beautiful open living room, filled with windows. It’s an old colonial from the 1920’s, since updated, but still has a lot of that New England Charm. It had a beautiful dining room area, completely open to the living room and a small, semi updated kitchen. There’s a full bathroom, laundry room and a 3 season porch behind the kitchen area – overlooking the gorgeous pool and bonus, there is actually a small yard next to the pool, and all of the yard is fenced in for Bentley.

The upstairs was even better than I expected. 3 beautiful bedrooms with polished hard woods, crown molding, and so many windows. A large full bath shared among the floor (not ideal, but with a full bath downstairs, it’s better than when I grew up with 1 bathroom and 3 women). Then in the guest/office room (or what I envision it to be) is a stair case leading up to a semi-finished loft (white wood panel walls, but with electric heat and otherwise finished). They used it as a bedroom (it has a second egress) and nursery area and it could easily be used as a guest room, a play room, or hell, a dressing room for now. Plus, I hadn’t realized it, but at the very end we walked downstairs into a half-finished basement – set up for a den like area including a bar. So much living space!

And we just knew. It was the house.

So the following night, this past Friday, we made an offer. We hoped it was a good enough offer, one that would stop them from holding their first open house that Sunday, but one that would be good for us too, as we didn’t want to pay a dime in closing costs (which seem to run about $6k). We did a little negotiating over the longest hour of my life, and finally we still came in under the listing price, and with them fully covering all closing costs. Both parties agreed and both parties signed.

I can’t believe that right now, we are almost homeowners.

The inspection is this Thursday. I am not too worried, since we had the Husband’s dad who is a builder walk through with us – and he checked in on the electrical, foundation, and so on but of course there could be lead and other unknown issues. I just pray that whatever they are, they aren’t big enough to lose the house over.

And if it all goes well, our purchase and sales is on Tuesday the 10th and closing is set for July 8th. Holy hell, it’s like 5 weeks away. Time to spend days gathering and supplying countless amounts of paperwork. In the matter of 5 weeks we will be putting a full 10% of the agreed price down – a huge amount of money (vomit) – but it’s totally worth it.

I just want to get to the point where we know it’s ours. When I can really start planning the furniture layout, the colors, and everything we need to do before moving in without having that worry in the back of my mind that something could go awry. When I can share some pictures!

I just have this underlying feeling of this is the right place and that this is our house. I just keep telling everyone…pool parties in August! (I’m actually super excited about the pool now!) 🙂

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