Power hour. Totally different with a baby in the the ute.

Things are falling in to place. Life is getting more organized.

The baby shower has been rescheduled for Saturday, December 21st. I told a few friends and as I expected a couple have already told me they can't make the date change. I'm relieved it'll still work out to have one and will be looking forward to the new date! Please God, no winter weather crap that day. 

I cleaned the house a little today. *GASP* I also wrote a full "nesting list" of all the cleaning that needs to get done before the baby. I'll chip away at that over the next month.

My mom and brother brought over PF Changs for lunch. Oh to have a family member with 4 wheel drive who feeds me on a snow day! SO much nicer than the cereal I was planning on eating. 

And here's what's on the baby agenda... Watch how we do a power week...

THURSDAY: doctor's appointment to see little H, baptism class

SATURDAY: 4.5 hour childbirth class

SUNDAY: 4.5 hour childbirth class

MONDAY: Childcare class (this is the one I'm most excited for - hello first time mom who needs to learn this stuff!)

TUESDAY: orientation with a pediatric practice 

By the time I hit the 33 week mark next Thursday we'll have checked a lot off our to do list.

Then after the shower, we'll be laundering things and assembling baby stuff like its our jobs! 

Oh, and I'm not ready for Christmas. So once this junk outside melts, I gotta do some shopping.

On a total pregnant chick note, I actually am getting weepy. I cry pretty easily lately. It kind of sucks. I got a $70 ultrasound bill for ONE ultrasound (after thinking I wouldn't be billed for the crazy number of ultrasounds I've had - these bills are going to get scary), and I bawled. You would've thought they charged me thousands. Brian, who is the one who always stresses about money, was actually comforting me. Then I went on a rant about how regular women are so stupid when they talk about babies being expensive. This kid will already have the price tag of a fucking range rover the second it even exits the birth canal. Diapers are expensive my ass. 

Hopefully today's weepiness is behind me. Until some sentimental holiday commercial comes on, and then I'm screwed. 

But I'm not stressed about organization! Because shit is about to get real! 

Look forward to many blogs about all the new stuff I'm going to learn :)

the weekend of the special baby shower that didn't happen.

So I went in to the weekend the happiest I've been in a long time. 

Friday was nasty weather. But my mom and I had plans to go to Oatlands Plantation for a holiday tea and a house tour. Despite the gross rain, it was a wonderful way to start to get in to holiday mode. And for a pregnant woman who has had eating issues, eating mini sandwiches and pastries was delightful. It also got me really excited for doing things like that with Hartley some day. And I can't lie, it might have planted the seed to do a tea party birthday when she's a little bit older.

My mom talked about taking some time off work as soon as Brian has to return to work after his paternity leave so she can come over and help. And how over her spring and summer break we can take the little one for strolls. I can't believe that'll be life in almost no time! 

Then we went shopping for nursing bras. Something you can really only do with your mom. My mom didn't know anything about them so I collected some tips from a friend who just had a baby. I actually wore one all day yesterday because putting on my regular bras is like stuffing 10 pounds of shit into a one pound bag!

Saturday we went shopping for my sister's wedding dress. She hasn't seen me in almost two months so I think she was pretty shocked that I now look like a pregnant lady! I was thrilled to see the boutiques had chairs so we could sit down and watch the fashion show. Every dress looked great, making decisions really tough. It made me think about how long ago it was when I tried on wedding dresses. Life has changed so much since then. But I'm thrilled to play the pregnant big sister role, and I didn't realize how emotional it would be to see my little sister try on wedding dresses. 

Before I left Ashburn my mom showed me the shower favors she made - these sweet sugar cookies. Bunnies and chicks. Sidenote: the bunny has unofficially become Hartley's animal. The little heart tags on the favors read, "can Hartley wait". Yes, baby girl has a slogan. 

That night Brian and I watched the news like it was our job, and I prayed the weather forecast for a winter storm the next day was wrong.

Upon waking Sunday, I learned it wasn't wrong. The snow actually started even earlier than they said it would. At first I laughed a little. Kind of an "are you fucking kidding me?" laugh. Then I realized there was no way we could have a shower. I couldn't ask anyone to drive in this. And selfishly, I didn't want to drive in it myself. God forbid we got in an accident driving to my baby shower, I would never forgive myself if something happened. 

Brian said to me, "I'm sorry, bug. You deserve a shower more than anyone." Then I started to cry. I wasn't crying because the shower wasn't happening that day. It more had to do with the fact that nothing with this baby ever seems to go as planned, and I just wanted one day to go off without a hitch. And quite frankly, pregnant lady hormones don't exactly help the situation. 

I feel like we were both in phone mode for an hour. Brian on the phone with his sister and his mom. I was on the phone updating my mom, and I was texting everyone the shower wasn't happening that day. People have said how sorry they are this happened, very sweet because lord knows none of us control the weather. And I gave everyone the same response, which is what I truly believe - this stuff happens. It does. It's not the end of the world. Hartley just gained a new nickname, my little snow angel. And this hiccup is just another little thing that reminds us what we've spent years learning - you can't control everything! 

Last night, sitting with Brian on the couch cozied under blankets, Christmas tree lit up, listening to Christmas music, playing scrabble, I thought about how perfect life is. Yes, the day didn't go as planned. Hartley and I didn't get to be the princesses of the day, and I didn't get to tear through a bunch of girlie baby gifts. But everything I really needed was in that room, on that couch. A year ago this was merely a dream, something I wished for every time I saw 11:11 on the clock or tossed a penny in a fountain. Something I prayed for when I was alone. And even though it certainly hasn't been a flawless journey, we're just lucky to get to be on it. 

The shower will happen - another day. We will see our snow angel in 3 days. And someday we'll look back and laugh at the week of record temperature highs followed by a freak winter storm on a shower date we picked over the summer. 

And I'm pleased to announce after two weeks of my super amazing, expensive, magical new vitamins, I'm starting to get more energy. Don't get me wrong, I'm still a little sluggish, but thank you, pregnancy gods. I needed that. 

Maybe it just isn't meant to be.

I thought about this yesterday. And when you read this, please realize that I'm not saying I'm not grateful to be a mom. I'm not saying that I won't be a fabulous one. And I'm not saying that I'm not overjoyed to be having Hartley become a part of our lives. But I'm speaking very candidly here.

When I was 25 and learned I would likely have fertility issues, I never fully believed doctors. I never thought I would need fertility drugs, let alone treatment, and certainly not IVF. The first time I heard that even with 3 rounds of Clomid it was suspected I ovulated twice in 2 years, I didn't buy that. Then when I actually saw my ovaries not produce follicles at multiple monitoring sessions, I started to think maybe the doctors were on to something. I was at the peak of my fertile years, and my ovaries couldn't do something that almost every woman's seem to be able to do. I took the gold standard of fertility medications - 80% of women respond to it, 10% of those even have twins - and at the highest dose my doctor would prescribe, it barely did anything. I never ever got a "mature" follicle. 

It was discovered my uterus was covered in polyps, which happens to almost 10% of women - almost all perimenopausal or menopausal women, not women my age. I was told that if I did ovulate, this could be a secondary cause of my infertility. They were surgically removed but will likely return again.

I was 27. I could have sex with my husband, and it didn't make a lick of a difference.

I am beyond blessed to be pregnant with an IVF baby. 

When I first became pregnant, and after the doctor heard her sweet little heartbeat, I was told I graduated from the fertility clinic. Only to be called the next day and told my body still wasn't producing the appropriate amount of hormones on it's own. No more graduation day for me. It took a few additional weeks for my body to begin producing the appropriate amounts of estrogen and progesterone. Thank god for syringes, suppositories and pills, right? Because what my body couldn't make could be engineered in a lab. 

Then severe morning sickness followed. Almost every meal was thrown up. A pound might be gained but it would just as quickly be lost. And I was told I was one of the rare women to have a loss of appetite during pregnancy and difficulty gaining weight. 

I couldn't feel my baby kick for the longest time. I not only had an anterior placenta but also placenta previa (which just recently corrected itself so I can feel her more). 

I was told I had an iron deficiency so I was given special prenatals with extra iron. And Brian and I were fine with spending $60 a month on these special ones while my friends spent not even 10 bucks a month on theirs. Then, I learn there is still not enough iron for my anemic ass in these very expensive vitamins. Now we're buying super extreme pre natal vitamins. When I go fill the prescription I might just not even look when I sign the charge slip.

I'm all of a sudden lacking any energy. My formerly high blood pressure has dropped over 25 points to the point they actually consider it too low. I have trouble eating, so in turn trouble gaining weight.

I just don't feel well at all.

And then I let myself realize what I've fought for years, I am not biologically meant to be a mother. My body is not meant for this. A thought that once brought tears to my eyes, now comforts me. Women can say I'm a wuss or it's a low tolerance for pain. But I truly believe my body is not meant to be pregnant. I will never be the woman who just got knocked up, sailed through pregnancy and then just did it again. That used to break my heart. That thought used to feel like a sucker punch every time I let it enter my head. But I am not meant for this. At 27 years old, getting pregnant was tough. And then at 28, pregnancy hasn't been a cake walk. And I'm starting to realize, that while I'm proud of myself for pushing myself to do this, I don't think I will again.

I think I need to accept that this is not what my body was designed for. I think I need to embrace the beautiful, amazing gift I've been given. My miracle of a daughter. I will be the best mom I can be to her. And then I need to move on with my life and put the ideas of more children behind me. I can use my heart to nurture my husband, my sweet girl, and my dog - along with our friends and family. And I can accept something I denied for a long time. 

I talked to Brian about these feelings last night. He actually said he completely understood where I was coming from. After all, he's watched all of this play out and watched it wear me down.

As I write this, the fan is blasting. I'm sweating profusely. I feel like I just ran a million miles even though I just slept a solid 5.5 hours - my best sleep in over a week. And I feel somehow calmed by putting this out there. 

I am the girl who always wanted to be a mom, who didn't listen when I was told it would be tough for me to become one. I have become the woman, who after my baby is born never needs to prove anyone wrong again. I fought nature. But thank God there's only two months more of being reminded. 

And please realize, I'm not writing this with tears in my eyes. I just speaking frankly like I usually do. 

I am thrilled to be in the homestretch. I am excited to have my baby shower on Sunday. And I am over the moon to meet our sweet babe. And amazed always by how far we've come. 

31 weeks.

How far along? 31 weeks

Total weight gain? Haven't been on the scale in 2 days but Tuesday it was 8 lbs.

Maternity clothes? Yep

Stretch marks? Yes

Best moment of the week? Decorating for Christmas with Brian

Miss anything? Alcohol. Having energy. Being able to bend over with ease. Feeling comfortable.

Movement? Yep, she is still a softer kicker. I never get the painful kicks some women describe. But she makes her presence known and it's comforting.

Food cravings? Was all about turkey and Brie sandwiches. The past couple days eating has become tougher. Much less room for food and as nuts as it sounds, I'm too tired to eat.

Anything making you queasy or sick? Not really. But everything is giving me acid reflux.

Have you started to show? Oh yes. Now strangers are confident enough to talk to me as if I'm a pregnant woman. Today while I was out this sweet salesgirl told me it was "mama day" at the store, I was the second one. I was so confused, and then I realized, oh yeah, I look really pregnant now. 

Gender: girlie girl

Belly button in or out? In

Wedding rings on or off? Off

Happy or Moody? Neither, just feeling very exhausted and a little overwhelmed at how quickly I got very big and tired. 

Looking forward to: the baby shower on Sunday. I'm very nervous for how well I'll handle being in a room with 30 people, and I have no idea how I'll have the energy to socialize with all of them. I have a feeling it'll be a little overwhelming and knowing my hormones, I will probably cry. But it'll be nice to see 30ish women who are all excited for baby Hartley :) and it's a very special day for both of us.

I am also very eagerly awaiting my sonogram in a week. This 16 day span of no supervision has been weird, emotional and tough.

I am exhausted. Biggest understatement ever. I feel big. I feel very tired. And my sleep has been subpar for a week. I am scared that this will be my life for the next 2 months. 

Today I went out to run a couple short errands, and I literally had to take a break while at Target (I was there for 30 minutes total and I literally sat and took a water and snack break). I can't do it anymore. I get dizzy and sweaty, and just want to get the hell out. And we're talking Target, my favorite place. 

I bought Winnie a dog toy while I was there. This is the equivalent of sitting your kid in front of the tv. I figured I'm too fucking tired to play with her so this better provide a days worth of entertainment. Best $5 I've spent in a long time. I'm laying it bed while she just attacks the thing. Ahhhh peace.

I bought a lazy woman's dinner: a jar of  pasta sauce, spaghetti and ground beef. Hello, spaghetti with meat sauce. Thank you for saving me from doing actual cooking. 

I bought the wrong size panty hose. I seriously can't think straight.

Now I don't know if this is the anemia or what but its awful.

And this is pretty much my 31 week update: tired.

The Decisions Women Make

Yesterday I went in to visit my old boss. I don't know how in the world I feel so at ease talking to a woman who used to be my boss about all sorts of personal things. I told her things I haven't said out loud to anyone else.

I sometimes think women have the tendency to judge the shit out of other women for no reason. So there are things I think that I can never phrase correctly to other ladies without them taking it the wrong way. 

I've had something on my mind lately that I can't articulate without sounding ungrateful. So I've buried it, and I mull it over when I'm alone. 

I'm very lucky to have been able to not work for most of this year. I'm very lucky that when Hartley is born, I don't have to return to work. I'm very lucky that my husband is very supportive of me staying home and taking care of our daughter. 

He has worked extremely hard at climbing the ranks at his job for the past 6.5 years. And we have been very good about building a giant savings cushion. 

I guess I just want it all because lately I question just staying at home. I am so completely torn. I want to be the one to spend the day with Hartley. I want to be the one who comforts her when she's crying. I want to be the one who puts her down for her naps, snuggles her, takes her for walks, changes her diapers, plays with her and reads to her. I know, being her mom, I am the one who can take care of her the best. Hell, I'm equipped with her feeding sources literally attached to my chest. 

I want to organize play dates for her. I want to do mommy and me yoga with her in tow. I want her to be in our comfortable home with her furry big sister. The three of us are just a walk across the street to the tot lot. And it all sounds like the right thing for our family.

But I sometimes wonder if I'm giving up on myself. People don't always know this about me but I'm actually very smart and hard working. You might be thrown by my blonde hair and beauty shop banter, but I am a very capable woman. And I wonder if I choose to stay home and not work at all these first couple years, am I not challenging myself? 

Then I wonder, does that even matter if I'm doing what's right for our family collectively? Does it matter if I don't work until I feel truly comfortable passing off my little girl to someone else?

I get it, this is a nice problem to have. Woe is me. My husband does so well I don't have to work. But I'm so smart and capable that I feel like I should.

But I won't lie, I worry about these decisions. It will have an impact on Brian, Hartley and I - not just me.

The truth is, if in 8 days we find out that Hartley might have special needs, well, the decision is made. I won't go back to work for a long time. I've cried a lot about this possibility but I have decided that if she has extra needs, I will dedicate my life to making sure they get met. 

But I will continue to mull this over. Yesterday my boss and I talked about me coming back, and I was excited at the thought. Then I spent an hour online researching child care and immediately started second guessing the going back idea. There's nothing wrong with daycare centers but I'm extremely uncomfortable with the idea of that right now. We have no time limit on this decision, and we can make the decision well after Hartley arrives. But like I've said before, sometimes you just wish you had a crystal ball. But that's life, right? 

Tomorrow is 31 weeks. That means 9 weeks until her due date, 6 weeks until she's full term. It feels like forever until I get to see her again. This is by far my most anticipated sonogram, and I'm very thankful that Brian will be there. 

Pregnancy cravings and the weight gain mission update

So eating is a world better these days. I'm not entirely sure I've been one of those women with real pregnancy cravings. The more I look back I realize I've just craved things I would want normally. And after experiencing the rare pregnancy symptom of appetite loss, I'm not entirely sure I'm eating a ton as much as I am eating more than I was a few months ago.

Yesterday I ran out and got myself my most recent craving, a turkey and Brie sandwich served on a crispy baguette from La Madeline. The whole time I was eating it I was thinking, "I'm a big fat cow but this is amazing." I've had 4 of these in the past couple weeks. And first or second trimester Page would never touch turkey or Brie... Both pregnancy no no's.

So when I woke up this morning I decided Thanksgiving weekend is over, and it's time to assess the damage. I mean, we ate two Thanksgiving meals, my mom sent us home with tons of leftovers including a pumpkin pie, and we had one day where we ate out all day. Time to see a middle digit I've never seen on my scale before.

Well, guess who lost 2 pounds? This girl. That means I am up 8 pounds from my pre pregnancy weight. That means when my 7 month pregnant body fit in to a Gap medium (not maternity) the other day, it might not have been the fluke I thought it was. 

My mom had a theory a long time ago that the fertility drugs I took for a year leading up to the pregnancy had artificially boosted my weight. Brian thought she was spot on. I wasn't too sure but now I feel like she has to be right. I'm not doing anything wrong (but I'm a first timer so I don't really know), and I might just never hit my 25 pound goal. So now I think I should realistically shoot for a 20 pound gain. That's 12 pounds in 9 weeks - sounds doable.

So I text Brian that maybe going back on the ensures was in order.

It's sad to force myself to gain because I have so much weight I want to lose after pregnancy. I would like to lose 30 pounds from my pre pregnancy weight. Which is daunting, especially once you tack on whatever I gain.

I'm not the kind of person who thinks you need to be thin to be beautiful. I actually embrace and love my curves, and it comes easily when you marry a man who prefers them. I've also embraced my changing body. I don't hide from Brian when I change. I'm extremely thankful to be pregnant and so proud of what my body is doing. 

But I'd like to lose some weight post pregnancy to be a little healthier and to give my body a fighting chance at correcting my hormone imbalance. I also would like to feel how I felt years ago, before I knew of my fertility issues. The truth is trying to conceive does not make you feel attractive. For years you become used to only being intimate when you could possibly be ovulating. And it's not something that makes you feel remotely desirable.

It's weird to me that for the next two months I'll fight to gain weight, then as soon as I'm allowed to diet, I'll fight a huge uphill battle to lose weight. But it's all in the name of a healthy baby and a healthy mama.

Though maybe I should knock off my daily French toast breakfasts. Pretty sure all that butter and sugar aren't providing us anything...

Holidays & Hartley

And so it begins. The holidays. The pregnancy home stretch. And a million different emotions.

I learned two things about pregnancy during Thanksgiving.

The Pro: you're wearing pants with a stretchy waist and you're sharing calories with a baby. Need I say more?

The Con: you can't drink. Let's face it, booze makes surfacey chit chat more enjoyable. If you disagree, lay off the wine for a holiday and get back to me.

I am a lover of the holidays. But do you want to know my honest opinion? They go downhill after you grow up. You juggle seeing two families. Which usually feels more like a chore than a treat. Especially if your families don't even talk to each other. Buying people gifts stops being fun and becomes more of a checklist. Everyone on your list already has everything or you don't know them well enough to think of something they would like. You have certain people you see that you have no clue what to talk about with them. And you're just longing for the days you played outside with your cousins, got to eat at the kids table or even better, you believed in Santa.

One of my all time favorite Thanksgivings was Thanksgiving 2009. It was my mom, dad, brother, sister, Aunt Mary, Brian and I. As a group we voted for loungewear being the dress code. My aunt brought her dog, we brought Winnie - and there was a dog play fest in the back yard. We had the tv on all day from the parade to the dog show to football. We lounged around in our comfy attire, no forced conversations necessary. Great food, awesome company - no need for anything else.

That Thanksgiving is my inspiration for our immediate family holidays with Hartley. The theme will truly be "comfort and joy". I want her to always have soft snugly pajamas. Even when she's 18, 19, 20 and home for Winter Break, she can still curl up with mama. I want there to be festive breakfasts, tv and movie traditions and hot cocoa (which will transition to spiked eggnog or wine when she's old enough). There will be drives around the neighborhood to look at Christmas lights. It will be a time to relax, unwind and be happy just to be around each other. I am really looking forward to having a little one around because I feel like we'll get to relive the magic that the holidays should be.

Brian and I started prepping for Christmas full speed ahead this weekend. We bought our tree, decorated it, along with the rest of the inside of the house. Sidenote: our tree is insanely lopesided. I laughed so hard I was pretty sure Hartley felt those belly laughs, and it was by a sheer miracle I didnt pee in my pants. Brian hung lights outside while I froze my butt off giving moral support with Winnie. I addressed all our Christmas cards. We did a little shopping, and I wrapped the presents we've bought so far. We watched our first Christmas movie together, Fred Claus, which Brian loves. We listened to Christmas music and lived in our pajamas. It was pretty awesome. I seriously can't wait for Hartley to share in the Crane kickoff to Christmas weekend we always do post Turkey Day. 

Meanwhile, we're really realizing how soon the little one will get here. I decided to keep a countdown on our little chalkboard. There's a lot to do but pretty much everything will be done within a month of today, January 2nd deadline. Though I'm sure we'll have a few last minute to do's that don't make that cut. I have a feeling she's going to be late but we're going to be ready come mid January as January 16th is the day she's considered FULL TERM!! 

The next couple weeks consist of the baby shower, baptism class, childbirth classes and childcare class. That knocks out a big chunk of things left. There's finding a pediatrician, laundering all her things, buying essentials that are not gifted to us at the shower, assembling things (ie baby swing, pack n play), installing the car seat, eventually packing the hospital bag (eeeek). We need to clean the house, a good deep clean, as I'm sure we'll be having some visitors in a couple months, and I will still be in survival mode not caring about scrubbing my toilets. We're going to research and attempt making some freezer meals. Oh you want to know the plus of trying to conceive for so long? I've read every last minute checklist ever written, so my list is the granddaddy of all lists. 

Brian is excited. I am excited but nervous. 

I'm glad we're counting down to Christmas as a distraction. But I can't lie, I mainly just have Hartley on the brain lately. I think we both do. Brian ordered our 2013 ornament, featuring who else but little H! Yes, my husband went on to etsy (unprovoked) and ordered an ornament of a brown haired man and a pregnant blonde lady holding an ultrasound photo, where the creator will use an actual Hartley ultrasound. 

So, Christmas season + baby being just a hair over 2 months away = excitement/nervousness/jitters/bliss/butterflies/sleepless nights

Here we go, last holiday season without our daughter. End of an era.