Your appendix is totally unnecessary, and I no longer have mine! I had some stomach pain on Sunday afternoon, which turned into serious pain and nausea by Sunday night. We went to the ER for what I thought was just gas or constipation, but it was quickly obvious to the ER doctor that I had appendicitis. They admitted me to the hospital just after midnight, and I was in the OR by 11:00 the next morning. The surgery went quickly and easily, and I was back in my room by 12:15. I slept most of the afternoon, but then I got up and was walking around and eating in the evening. Dan and I were home by 7:00 PM, and I couldn't have been happier to be home with our cuddly redhead.
I'm a little stiff and sore today still, but recovery from this is much easier than my c-sections, and I expect to be back to almost-normal soon!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Long Overdue
It's been around 6 weeks since I've posted here, and it hasn't been for lack of writing material. I think about blogging all the time, but I always worry I won't have anything to say. Of course, those are the times that my posts are the longest!
Our almost-23-month old is incredible. Tonight at bed time, he had Old MacDonald stuck in his head and kept singing it. "Old Donald had farm. On farm had SHEEP! And baa there, and baa there, and baa there, and baa there..." He's really been singing a lot lately and we LOVE it!!
His language has also developed so much lately, it's insane. He speaks in full sentences, and knows so much. He is big into "please" and "thank you" which is amazing, and one of the cutest things is that his terrible twos aren't full of "No" as much as we're getting "No, thank you. NO, THANK YOU!" It's adorable. Owen is parroting a lot of what we say too. Because he's so verbal and so strong-willed, he will ask for the same thing over and over again. Here's how a typical conversation goes:
Owen: "Want to go downstairs. Want to go downstairs. Please. PLEASE. Want to go downstairs, please!"
Dan: "Okay, okay, okay!"
So now, when Owen really wants something, he tacks on "Okay, okay, okay" to the end. "Want to go downstairs, please, okayokayokay." That kid!
He's also into extremes. Things are too hot, too bright, too high. But when he's frustrated, it's "too big." That started when he tried to put a toy car through his train tunnel and it didn't fit. He was very frustrated, but Dan explained to him that it was too big. So now, anything frustrating is "too big."
His train table is a whole other story. He could play with that train table all day, every day. He has started coming to me, grabbing a finger, dragging me to the table, saying, "Want to play some trains, please," over and over again. "Over the bridge, please. Through the tunnel, please."
Owen is also really loving a few TV shows. He loves Thomas and Friends, a French cartoon called Caillou, and The Care Bears. He knows all of the characters, can sing along with the songs, and can recite upcoming lines when he's watching his favorite episodes.
I measured him this afternoon and if my measuring-tape-on-a-moving-target was right, Owen has hit the 3 feet mark. We've been told that you can estimate adult height by doubling a kid's height at age 2. With 5 weeks to go, it looks like Owen is going to break the 6 foot mark when he grows up. I hope he still gives me good hugs and kisses then. He's such a cutie.
Let's see...what else? In late January, we all headed to Round Rock, TX, just outside of Austin, to visit friends. That was Owen's third trip, and the second trip to Texas. We had a great time, and of course, got some great pictures. Owen did great on the plane. He slept the whole way there, and had a fun time with Kate.
Owen is growing up so fast in so many ways. He loves pizza and hot dogs and mac and cheese.
He loves the outdoors, regardless of the weather. He just figured out how to jump with both feet yesterday. Sneezes are hilarious. He loves our cat, Sprinkles, and can't get enough of holding her, petting her, grabbing her feet and tail (and she just takes it).
And here are several more pictures, because I just couldn't narrow them down. I'm sure it's obvious that we are over the moon with this kid, and he amazes us every day with how much he's learning and becoming this amazing person.
Our almost-23-month old is incredible. Tonight at bed time, he had Old MacDonald stuck in his head and kept singing it. "Old Donald had farm. On farm had SHEEP! And baa there, and baa there, and baa there, and baa there..." He's really been singing a lot lately and we LOVE it!!
His language has also developed so much lately, it's insane. He speaks in full sentences, and knows so much. He is big into "please" and "thank you" which is amazing, and one of the cutest things is that his terrible twos aren't full of "No" as much as we're getting "No, thank you. NO, THANK YOU!" It's adorable. Owen is parroting a lot of what we say too. Because he's so verbal and so strong-willed, he will ask for the same thing over and over again. Here's how a typical conversation goes:
Owen: "Want to go downstairs. Want to go downstairs. Please. PLEASE. Want to go downstairs, please!"
Dan: "Okay, okay, okay!"
So now, when Owen really wants something, he tacks on "Okay, okay, okay" to the end. "Want to go downstairs, please, okayokayokay." That kid!
He's also into extremes. Things are too hot, too bright, too high. But when he's frustrated, it's "too big." That started when he tried to put a toy car through his train tunnel and it didn't fit. He was very frustrated, but Dan explained to him that it was too big. So now, anything frustrating is "too big."
His train table is a whole other story. He could play with that train table all day, every day. He has started coming to me, grabbing a finger, dragging me to the table, saying, "Want to play some trains, please," over and over again. "Over the bridge, please. Through the tunnel, please."
Owen is also really loving a few TV shows. He loves Thomas and Friends, a French cartoon called Caillou, and The Care Bears. He knows all of the characters, can sing along with the songs, and can recite upcoming lines when he's watching his favorite episodes.
I measured him this afternoon and if my measuring-tape-on-a-moving-target was right, Owen has hit the 3 feet mark. We've been told that you can estimate adult height by doubling a kid's height at age 2. With 5 weeks to go, it looks like Owen is going to break the 6 foot mark when he grows up. I hope he still gives me good hugs and kisses then. He's such a cutie.
Let's see...what else? In late January, we all headed to Round Rock, TX, just outside of Austin, to visit friends. That was Owen's third trip, and the second trip to Texas. We had a great time, and of course, got some great pictures. Owen did great on the plane. He slept the whole way there, and had a fun time with Kate.
Owen is growing up so fast in so many ways. He loves pizza and hot dogs and mac and cheese.
He loves the outdoors, regardless of the weather. He just figured out how to jump with both feet yesterday. Sneezes are hilarious. He loves our cat, Sprinkles, and can't get enough of holding her, petting her, grabbing her feet and tail (and she just takes it).
And here are several more pictures, because I just couldn't narrow them down. I'm sure it's obvious that we are over the moon with this kid, and he amazes us every day with how much he's learning and becoming this amazing person.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Snow
It's snowing right now, and it's absolutely beautiful. I love snow. I've always loved snow. Two years ago, when I was pregnant with Owen, Dan and I were snowed in at our house for almost two weeks. We didn't have anywhere to go, or anything to do, and we spent those two weeks playing Scrabble, watching movies, laughing, playing, and imagining what our life would be like 3 months later when Owen joined our family. We walked around the neighborhood, slowly and carefully, and made snow angels out in the yard.
Last year, we didn't get a single flake. Nothing. Nada. We didn't mind, really. The city shuts down with just the idea of snow, so it was fine to go along with our lives, enjoying the winter with our son. We knew we'd have plenty of snow in Owen's future, and it would be better when he could walk. Heck, he was just starting to crawl somewhere around this time last year.
But this year, we got our first snow early. The first little flurry wasn't much to celebrate, but it was still exciting. The following afternoon, Monday, it started snowing like it meant business and it started to stick. How exciting! We were beginning the "worst winter in 55 years" here in Seattle, and we were just three short weeks away from another little boy to join our family. That night, I started having contractions. They weren't painful, but they were definitely noticeable, and they were coming every 3-4 minutes, and lasting around a minute each. Now, most books and doctors will tell you that if this pattern keeps up for an hour, it's likely that labor is starting, and if things get painful, it's time to go to in. I tracked my contractions for three hours, and they kept coming, almost like clockwork. I was very excited, but also nervous that we may have trouble getting to the hospital. I decided to go to bed, and if the contractions were strong enough to wake me up, we'd head in. I think my biggest regret now in the loss of our dear Elliott is not going in to see if labor had started. Maybe if I had been hooked up to their monitors, someone would have realized he was in trouble and he'd be here today. But I can't know for sure, and I can't change what has happened...
Anyway, I woke up Tuesday morning, still pregnant, and there were a few inches of snow on the ground. Dan and I dropped Owen off for a play date and made our way to the hospital for our 37-week appointment. Everything looked good. I was measuring a little big, but I had been for a while, and Elliott's heartbeat sounded good and strong. We picked Owen up, went back home, and played in the snow. Owen didn't know what to think of it at first, but when Dan started tossing snowballs at his coat, Owen really started enjoying it! When his hands started turning red from the cold, we went inside, much to his dismay. He spent the rest of the afternoon asking to go out in the snow. It was a great day, and we were feeling so much happiness.
I look back at that day in a few different ways. It was a very satisfying day -- good appointment, fun in the snow, joy, excitement, anticipation. But it was also the last time we heard Elliott's heartbeat, and the last day that we know for sure Elliott was alive. I look back at who we were, and how innocently we imagined our future life with our two boys. I look back at someone who didn't know the pain of losing a baby just two weeks before his due date. I look back to a time when I was someone I'll never fully be again.
These days, I have brief moments of peace where I can see a future with hope and joy and days without tears. These moments are bittersweet. I won't ever forget Elliott, nor would I want to, but I do want to be happy and hopeful and pregnant again some day. I don't know when that day will be, and I'm okay with that (at this moment), but I know it will come. In the mean time, the snow is accumulating outside -- cold, clean, pure, and full of possibilities. It's supposed to melt overnight or tomorrow, but I hope it stays long enough for Owen to play in it. And if it's gone when we wake up, we can add snow to the list of things we can look forward to.
Last year, we didn't get a single flake. Nothing. Nada. We didn't mind, really. The city shuts down with just the idea of snow, so it was fine to go along with our lives, enjoying the winter with our son. We knew we'd have plenty of snow in Owen's future, and it would be better when he could walk. Heck, he was just starting to crawl somewhere around this time last year.
But this year, we got our first snow early. The first little flurry wasn't much to celebrate, but it was still exciting. The following afternoon, Monday, it started snowing like it meant business and it started to stick. How exciting! We were beginning the "worst winter in 55 years" here in Seattle, and we were just three short weeks away from another little boy to join our family. That night, I started having contractions. They weren't painful, but they were definitely noticeable, and they were coming every 3-4 minutes, and lasting around a minute each. Now, most books and doctors will tell you that if this pattern keeps up for an hour, it's likely that labor is starting, and if things get painful, it's time to go to in. I tracked my contractions for three hours, and they kept coming, almost like clockwork. I was very excited, but also nervous that we may have trouble getting to the hospital. I decided to go to bed, and if the contractions were strong enough to wake me up, we'd head in. I think my biggest regret now in the loss of our dear Elliott is not going in to see if labor had started. Maybe if I had been hooked up to their monitors, someone would have realized he was in trouble and he'd be here today. But I can't know for sure, and I can't change what has happened...
Anyway, I woke up Tuesday morning, still pregnant, and there were a few inches of snow on the ground. Dan and I dropped Owen off for a play date and made our way to the hospital for our 37-week appointment. Everything looked good. I was measuring a little big, but I had been for a while, and Elliott's heartbeat sounded good and strong. We picked Owen up, went back home, and played in the snow. Owen didn't know what to think of it at first, but when Dan started tossing snowballs at his coat, Owen really started enjoying it! When his hands started turning red from the cold, we went inside, much to his dismay. He spent the rest of the afternoon asking to go out in the snow. It was a great day, and we were feeling so much happiness.
I look back at that day in a few different ways. It was a very satisfying day -- good appointment, fun in the snow, joy, excitement, anticipation. But it was also the last time we heard Elliott's heartbeat, and the last day that we know for sure Elliott was alive. I look back at who we were, and how innocently we imagined our future life with our two boys. I look back at someone who didn't know the pain of losing a baby just two weeks before his due date. I look back to a time when I was someone I'll never fully be again.
These days, I have brief moments of peace where I can see a future with hope and joy and days without tears. These moments are bittersweet. I won't ever forget Elliott, nor would I want to, but I do want to be happy and hopeful and pregnant again some day. I don't know when that day will be, and I'm okay with that (at this moment), but I know it will come. In the mean time, the snow is accumulating outside -- cold, clean, pure, and full of possibilities. It's supposed to melt overnight or tomorrow, but I hope it stays long enough for Owen to play in it. And if it's gone when we wake up, we can add snow to the list of things we can look forward to.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Christmas Eve
There is no good time of the year to be mourning a lost baby. I'm hoping to get through Christmas and the last week of 2010 without much extra emotions over what could have been. Last night, as we were getting ready for bed, Dan said it best: "I can't wait for this year to be over."
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Tough Days
I was getting ready to go with Dan and Owen to Toddler Gym time this morning, when it hit me that four weeks ago, Elliott was still alive and we were about to hear his heartbeat for the last time -- a sound that, somehow, I had been taking for granted. How is that even possible, that the proof that your baby is alive can be "routine?" I should have taken more time to be grateful that he was alive every time we heard his racing heart.
The grief cycle is a horrible rollercoaster ride, one that has so many ups and downs and twists and turns. I've been hovering in the denial/anger part for a few days in a row now, and today, I'm back to sadness/yearning. I'm back to the "what ifs" and wondering how I didn't know something was wrong, and how I didn't know to do something to change the outcome. I'm in disbelief that this is really happening to us and that we don't have both of our boys with us right now.
There are so many times when I think about Elliott's death and it doesn't seem real. It seems like a horrible dream, one that I hope I wake up from every day. But there are so many reminders of how real he was -- the stretchmarks on my stomach, my different c-section scar, the little box of his ashes in the nursery, the charm necklace I wear every day in his memory, the ache of love in my heart for the son I only knew inside of me. And now that it's been 23 days since he was delivered, the dinners have stopped coming, the phone has stopped ringing, and visitors don't come by to check in anymore. Life is going on, and it seems almost like too much to have to keep up with. Like I said, most days are just normal days -- Owen needs to eat, play, sleep, have his diaper changed... But there are days like today, where I wish I could hide under the covers of my bed and stay there until the hurt is gone and we have a new baby to help heal the huge hole in my heart and soul. I can't ever replace Elliott, nor would I want to, but I so want to feel better again. I want to laugh and not feel guilty for it. I want to be hopeful not cynical and scared. I want to hear our babies cry and nurse them for health and comfort. I want to be so sleep deprived that I ask Dan if it's possible to die from it (true story). I want to be a mom to more babies.
For now, I just have to feel these emotions, be the elephant in the room, and learn to live through the tragedy of Elliott's death. I so wish I could change the end of the story, but I have to figure out how to accept that I can't. I miss him so much.
The grief cycle is a horrible rollercoaster ride, one that has so many ups and downs and twists and turns. I've been hovering in the denial/anger part for a few days in a row now, and today, I'm back to sadness/yearning. I'm back to the "what ifs" and wondering how I didn't know something was wrong, and how I didn't know to do something to change the outcome. I'm in disbelief that this is really happening to us and that we don't have both of our boys with us right now.
There are so many times when I think about Elliott's death and it doesn't seem real. It seems like a horrible dream, one that I hope I wake up from every day. But there are so many reminders of how real he was -- the stretchmarks on my stomach, my different c-section scar, the little box of his ashes in the nursery, the charm necklace I wear every day in his memory, the ache of love in my heart for the son I only knew inside of me. And now that it's been 23 days since he was delivered, the dinners have stopped coming, the phone has stopped ringing, and visitors don't come by to check in anymore. Life is going on, and it seems almost like too much to have to keep up with. Like I said, most days are just normal days -- Owen needs to eat, play, sleep, have his diaper changed... But there are days like today, where I wish I could hide under the covers of my bed and stay there until the hurt is gone and we have a new baby to help heal the huge hole in my heart and soul. I can't ever replace Elliott, nor would I want to, but I so want to feel better again. I want to laugh and not feel guilty for it. I want to be hopeful not cynical and scared. I want to hear our babies cry and nurse them for health and comfort. I want to be so sleep deprived that I ask Dan if it's possible to die from it (true story). I want to be a mom to more babies.
For now, I just have to feel these emotions, be the elephant in the room, and learn to live through the tragedy of Elliott's death. I so wish I could change the end of the story, but I have to figure out how to accept that I can't. I miss him so much.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Santa Visit - 2010
We took a trip to visit Santa this morning. Owen was excited until all of the kids in front of us were freaking out and crying on his lap. We wanted a family photo anyway... ;)
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Somehow, Life Continues
Amazingly and somewhat cruelly, life has gone on these past 2+ weeks since we lost our son Elliott. At times, I'm thankful for that, and other times, I wish we could hit pause long enough to catch up, and then keep things going. I have had all kinds of anxiety over today coming -- last Friday was Elliott's official "due date" and I was anxiously trying to anticipate what kind of feelings I would have that day versus the other painful days we had been living through until then. Friday was also my Dad's 63rd birthday, and I'm hopeful that it will only be associated with that celebration in the years to come, and not the day my baby was supposed to be here. What babies are born on their due dates anyway? And Elliott was delivered in November, so why would a day in December be especially hard? I can only wait it out and see.
There were tears of sadness and anger -- sadness from losing our son, the same ache and devastation as we've been feeling since the doctor confirmed Elliott's heart was no longer beating, and anger at this happening to us -- good people, good parents -- that had already made plans for Owen's and Elliott's future as best friends and partners in mischief. I mourn the loss of Owen's brother almost as much as the loss of my son. Sure, we can probably have more kids in the future, but no one will replace Elliott, and certainly not in this stage of our lives. Owen may have a brother, or a sister, or a couple of each or both...I don't pretend to know what our family may look like in the future, especially after our "plans" were clearly not up to us with Elliott.
But I didn't come on to write about my pain and anger. I wanted to take advantage of life going on, to talk about Owen and how he has grown and changed in the past month. When we left him in his highchair eating dinner and watching TV on that terrible Saturday, neither of us realized we were about to leave him for three nights. The longest we have ever left him before that was around 2 hours to go see a movie, and he was finishing a nap for half of that. That day, we took off, without being able to call him (he doesn't quite understand the back and forth of the phone yet) and without seeing him at all. He was in great hands and it sounds like he had a blast, but I was so worried every nap time and bed time. He puts up a fight for us when we lay down with him, even with bear hugs and kisses and the right number of stuffed toys surrounding him. How was anyone going to be able to put him down? But he slept and ate and played and enjoyed the extra attention. And he was so excited when we came home. He gave us a tour of the upstairs -- "Closet! Music! Fan! Window!"
He has also picked up some new phrases that I love:
- "Where's hammer? Where'd it go? Somewhere I find it. There is he! 'S'right there! I get..." This same series of thoughts happens for any lost object -- his water, a garbage truck, our cat, a sound.
- "Watch this!"
- "I nape's Owen!" (My name's Owen)
- "Thank you...Welcome" (after sharing his food with us)
- "What's that sound? That sound's airplane!" (or cat, or Mommy, or...)
- "'K'out window!" ("Look out window" when anyone leaves our house)
- "Do again!" (which is hard in real life without TV)
- "Get back here!" and "Come back here!" when he's chasing our cat or a friend
- Some Christmas words - "Kiss-mas," "Santa Caus," "Snow"
Owen's attention span is also getting longer, and he can sit and play with his trains or trucks or read books for a good amount of time. He's also getting bored more easily lately, which is hard for us to keep up with, especially in the winter weather. It's cold and wet, and dark so early, that it's hard to come up with things to do where he can run off some energy and be mentally stimulated too. That's our challenge for this winter -- keeping Owen entertained and happy, no matter how tired, sad, mad, etc we are. It'll help us all. (12/14/10)
There were tears of sadness and anger -- sadness from losing our son, the same ache and devastation as we've been feeling since the doctor confirmed Elliott's heart was no longer beating, and anger at this happening to us -- good people, good parents -- that had already made plans for Owen's and Elliott's future as best friends and partners in mischief. I mourn the loss of Owen's brother almost as much as the loss of my son. Sure, we can probably have more kids in the future, but no one will replace Elliott, and certainly not in this stage of our lives. Owen may have a brother, or a sister, or a couple of each or both...I don't pretend to know what our family may look like in the future, especially after our "plans" were clearly not up to us with Elliott.
But I didn't come on to write about my pain and anger. I wanted to take advantage of life going on, to talk about Owen and how he has grown and changed in the past month. When we left him in his highchair eating dinner and watching TV on that terrible Saturday, neither of us realized we were about to leave him for three nights. The longest we have ever left him before that was around 2 hours to go see a movie, and he was finishing a nap for half of that. That day, we took off, without being able to call him (he doesn't quite understand the back and forth of the phone yet) and without seeing him at all. He was in great hands and it sounds like he had a blast, but I was so worried every nap time and bed time. He puts up a fight for us when we lay down with him, even with bear hugs and kisses and the right number of stuffed toys surrounding him. How was anyone going to be able to put him down? But he slept and ate and played and enjoyed the extra attention. And he was so excited when we came home. He gave us a tour of the upstairs -- "Closet! Music! Fan! Window!"
He has also picked up some new phrases that I love:
- "Where's hammer? Where'd it go? Somewhere I find it. There is he! 'S'right there! I get..." This same series of thoughts happens for any lost object -- his water, a garbage truck, our cat, a sound.
- "Watch this!"
- "I nape's Owen!" (My name's Owen)
- "Thank you...Welcome" (after sharing his food with us)
- "What's that sound? That sound's airplane!" (or cat, or Mommy, or...)
- "'K'out window!" ("Look out window" when anyone leaves our house)
- "Do again!" (which is hard in real life without TV)
- "Get back here!" and "Come back here!" when he's chasing our cat or a friend
- Some Christmas words - "Kiss-mas," "Santa Caus," "Snow"
Owen's attention span is also getting longer, and he can sit and play with his trains or trucks or read books for a good amount of time. He's also getting bored more easily lately, which is hard for us to keep up with, especially in the winter weather. It's cold and wet, and dark so early, that it's hard to come up with things to do where he can run off some energy and be mentally stimulated too. That's our challenge for this winter -- keeping Owen entertained and happy, no matter how tired, sad, mad, etc we are. It'll help us all. (12/14/10)
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