Pregnancy Survival Guide

Well, here it is...my guide to (so far) surviving pregnancy. I'm sure there will be more to add yet, but this is a good start!

1. Pregnancy Survival Skill: How to pick up a dirty sock off the floor

Spread your legs slightly past hip width apart and make sure you have something sturdy to hold onto like the back of a chair. Proceed to squat downwards slowly in front of the object you are trying to grab. If you become short of breath, tired, or the target does not seem to be anywhere within reach, relax, lower yourself to the floor and yell for help.

2. Eat whatever you can hold down, or whatever sounds good to you.

Babies are the perfect little leeches and will drain whatever they can from what you eat. While it's a great idea to stick to the recommended diet, if there's a day where all you want to eat are grape Popsicles, embrace it!

3. Get a "good night's" sleep whenever you can.

On that note, time permitting, sleep whenever you can. Listen to your body, it knows what to do. If you can't sleep and try to force it you will only become more frustrated. Trust me, you can find plenty of interesting things on the Internet at 3am.

4. It's ok if you don't get cravings like people think you should. Not every pregnant woman wants to eat dirt, pickles, or peanut butter.

5. Enjoy the pregnancy "so cute" comments while they last. Once the baby arrives you're just another woman with a screaming child.

6. Don't freak out if you have weird sex dreams about your 60 year old neighbour or your old gym teacher. It comes part and parcel with being pregnant. If you're too scared to go back to sleep, see #3.

7. Feeling your baby move will be one of the most surreal moments of your life. Seeing it move is even more surreal. Enjoy every second!

8. Fibre is your best friend. 'Nuff said.

9. Your nose will become your worst enemy. You will smell things from miles away and for hours after it's gone. Find the one scent that doesn't irritate you and keep it close by. (Think t-shirt or piece of cloth with a nice relaxing essential oil sprayed on it.)

10. And finally...

Perception

An email from my dad got me thinking this morning. Why do we all rush through life at such a fast pace? Are we really that anxious to get to the end? I've spoken often about the gifts that Kaycie gave me during her short time. The most important of which, I think, is appreciation. Appreciation for the little things in life. The moments.

I no longer worry about being late for work, hurrying to the grocery store, or even being late to meet a friend. If something catches my attention I'm going to stop to appreciate it. Schedules can be shifted, text messages can be sent, but that moment...the one I'm stopping to appreciate...will only be there for that moment. It's a gift in time and one that I don't plan on squandaring.

Here is a copy of the email. Definitely an interesting read!




In Washington DC, at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, this man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After about 3 minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule.

About 4 minutes later:

The violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

At 6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

At 10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent - without exception - forced their children to move on quickly.

At 45 minutes:

The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

After 1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the DC Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.

This experiment raised several questions:

*In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?

*If so, do we stop to appreciate it?

*Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made . . .

How many other things are we missing as we rush through life?

For the rest of my life I vow to always make time for those moments. It's Kaycie's gift to me and I refuse to throw it away.

Fire and Ice

So here is my confession of the week. I don't go to church, so this is the closest I get to confessing my sins!

I've been known to have a bit of a temper. *Gasp* Shocker, I know, to those who know me best. Luckily, it takes alot to set my temper off. During normal relationship fights and general fights, my temper is like fire. It burns hot and quickly, but also dies quickly. Especially if no one fans it! The bad part of my temper is when my anger turns from fire to ice. In fact, I think the picture below even resembles what I look like when I get truly mad!



The icy part of my temper rarely, if ever, goes away. It's the part that allows me to hold a grudge. Sometimes for a lifetime. I blame my heritage. I'm part Scottish, and as we are well aware, the Scots can hold a grudge for a very, very long time. Years ago I remember speaking to my Grandfather (who was a Scotsman through and through) about Sean Connery accepting the Knighthood from Queen Elizabeth. Never have I seen my Grandpa so upset. In what only could be described as a Scottish burr my Grandpa proclaimed: "No true Scotsman would ever kneel before the English Queen!" He was livid and refused to watch any Sean Connery movies after that. Just goes to show that I come by my grudge-holding honestly!

In my day to day life, up until this last year there is, I think, only one person who has earned the icy, grudge-holding side of my temper. My ex-brother-in-law. Him and I never got along well to begin with, and once he cheated on my sister...well, it was over! She may be able to forgive and move on, but for me, no one hurts my sister and gets away with it! Anyway, I realized this week just how truly cold that side of my temper can be.

The Sperm Donor and I are both Aries. Known for being stubborn, head strong, opinionated and short tempered you can only imagine what it was like when two fire signs decided to fight. Of course, that same passion that went into our fighting also transferred to the bedroom. The fighting may have been intense, but so was the making up :) My fiery temper will only turn to ice once I've been truly deeply wounded, or if someone I'm loyal to has been truly deeply wounded. If you are standing in my way when it happens, the coldness of my words can sting and freeze as much as the cold air on a winter's morning. I've always lived by the motto "the pen is mightier than the sword." I've learned to use my words well, and to their utmost effectiveness. If I'm in "icy stage anger," every word is thought out, calculated, and delivered to its full force. No it's not pretty, no, I'm not proud of it, but like I said, it's confession time.

There's a guy at work who has taken to spoiling me the entire time I've been pregnant. There is absolutely nothing romantic about it. He's happily married with a couple of kids of his own. He's just one of those guys who thinks that a woman who is pregnant deserves to be spoiled. He's brought me little treats usually once a week. Either from himself or from his wife. Since this started I've been jokingly referring to him as my "boyfriend."

Anyway, the Sperm Donor and I were having a casual small-talk conversation the other night. Nothing bitter or angry about it other than my own internal feelings towards him. I said something to the effect of "hmmmm, my work boyfriend hasn't brought me any presents this week." I've mentioned the treats and this guy to the Sperm Donor before, so the "work boyfriend" should have clued him in to who I was talking about. The Sperm Donor didn't say anything for a minute, then said: "When you say 'boyfriend' you're not talking about me right?" I don't know why, but icy bitchy me decided to make an appearance.

"You know, I use alot of words to reference you, and 'boyfriend' is definitely not one of them." Followed by the ever-so-effective hair flip and walk away. And that's when I realized it. The Sperm Donor has earned my icy anger. The grudge-holding-for-years anger. The scary thing (for him) is that that is how I reacted when it was just me and him. Can you imagine how I'm going to react if he ever does anything to hurt our child?!? Even if it is inadvertent...God help him. Make my daughter cry? Earn the wrath of Keri! I honestly don't think he has any clue what he's in for. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Wave of Light ~ October 15th

Today is a special day...an important day. Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

15.6% of all pregnancies end in loss yet this is still such a taboo subject. Only by speaking about it and encouraging others to speak up can we find support in one another. There are many grieving parents in the world, and today is a day to come together.

A great site has been started to bring together grieving families on this important day. You can check out their website here.

"Too many families grieve in silence, sometimes never coming to terms with their loss. Our goal is to help others relate to our loss, know what to say, do, or not say, not do and to help families live with their loss, not 'get over' their loss."

This website started the following grassroots movement that is slowly catching on all across the world. I encourage everyone who has lost a baby themselves, or knows someone who has to take part. United in grief we find love and strength.

Wave of Light for October 15th

Everyone is invited to light a candle on October 15th at 7pm in ALL time zones, ALL over the world.
If everyone lights a candle at 7pm and keeps it burning for at least one hour, there will be a continuous WAVE OF LIGHT over the entire world on October 15th, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

These candles burn in loving memory of our babies.

RANT!

Originally this was going to be a "poor me" rant, but I've talked myself down over the last few minutes and put on my big-girl boots. Now it'll just be a bitchy rant :)

I am fucking tired. There I said it. I would love to curl up in bed and sleep for a week. That's not an option, hence the big-girl boots. I have a long list of things that need to get done and I was hoping to get some help with them and after the week I've had, that doesn't appear to be happening so it's time to just do it all myself. Here's the list:

1. Sand the ceiling in the bedroom. I had mudded it, but was having troubles balancing on a ladder and using the sander so I asked the Sperm Donor to finish it. He said he would (two and a half weeks ago). So now it's time to get it done myself.

2. Once the bedroom is sanded it is time to prime and paint it. I'm hoping this one won't take me more than a weekend, but I'm moving a little slower now, so we'll see!

3. Clean out the area underneath the stairs. The bedroom is small, so in the interest of saving space I'm moving my dresser to the area under the stairs. Unfortunately, when we moved in, this turned into a storage area so I need to flatten the boxes for recycling and throw out a whole bunch of packing material, styrofoam, etc.

4. Clean up the backyard and get it ready for winter. This one shouldn't be that bad since it's merely dumping some dirt out of the pots and loading everything into the garage for winter storage. The doggie-do that needs to be cleaned up...*sigh* bending over is the problem with that one!

5. Fix water spout on downstairs bathtub. When it's turned on, half the water comes out the shower head and half comes out the tap. Obviously this is not conducive to taking a bath (which is all my aching body is screaming for) so it's got to be fixed! I did some trouble shooting online and apparently removing the tap and soaking it in hot water and vinegar for 24 hours should fix it. I'll try that first since it's more economical (and easier) than replacing it.

6. Go baby shopping, go Christmas shopping, order sewing supplies, get hair done, visit with mom and dad. These ones should be the fun ones, but they all involve trips into the city, and more than one trip too. It's a 2 hour drive each way, which takes up an entire day off. Again, not a big deal except for the list above.

7. Order baby dresser, crib, glider, etc. Once they come in I am actually looking forward to organizing all the baby stuff. Doesn't every first-time mom look forward to that one?

8. If...if...IF I have time, I also need to prime and paint the living room. I would really LOVE to get that done, but if I don't, I guess I can live with it. That one would actually be easy except there is a large *ahem* hole in the drywall that needs to be fixed.

I was hoping the Sperm Donor would step up and get some of this stuff or at least help me pay for some of the baby stuff etc, but nope. Secondly, I was hoping the ex-husband would take the dogs to at least take some of the work off of me, but nope.

I realize part of my bitchiness/moodiness/anger is pregnancy hormones. Part of it is that tomorrow is an important day. Part of it is that Kaycie's first anniversary of her EDD is coming up on the 31st. I should be getting ready to celebrate her first birthday.

6 weeks from now until the beginning of December. 6 weeks to get all of the above done. Either I'll be successful, or I'll end up on bed rest. Either one is fine with me!

Follow-up and new annoyances

Not sure if anyone figured it out or not, but on Wednesday I was in love with the number 3! Why? Because I officially hit the 30 week mark. I've had quite a few due dates given to me, ranging from December 11 - 15th. Erring on the side of caution I always use December 15th here. (I'd rather figure later than earlier)

So what's the big deal about 30 weeks? 85% of women give birth before their due dates. 5% give birth on their due dates and 10% give birth after their due dates. This means that in the vast majority of cases there is never a "4" in front of the number of weeks pregnant you are. Home stretch!

Today should be my Friday Funnies post, but honestly...I'm just too annoyed. I get the feeling that once I start maternity leave I'm not going to want to leave the house at all. I am so sick of people commenting on either a)the size of my belly or b)attributing everything to the fact that I'm pregnant.

Some examples:

I came back from lunch today with a slurpee only to have one of the guys say: "Oh, the pregnant girl has a slurpee...must be a craving!" Yeah, never mind the fact that it's a beautiful sunny day, plus 25 degrees C and nicer than it was all summer. Seriously. I love slurpees even when not pregnant!

Reaching for something on top of a shelf at work only to hear this: "hahaha, pretty soon you're going to need longer arms to reach in front of that belly." I'm short, my arms are short, and very few things in life are made with short people in mind. This includes shelf height! It has nothing to do with pregnancy and everything to do with being vertically challenged!

Ordering a sandwich at a restaurant and asking for a pickle on the side (an option available to anyone who orders a sandwich). "Gotta love those pickle cravings hahaha." No you freaking imbecile! I just like pickles on the side of a sandwich! Like probably 95% of the rest of the population!

I swear this is worse than pms. I'm about to completely lose it on someone! ARGH! Is it too much to ask that I just get through each day without being bothered? I'd be much happier if no one even mentioned the fact that I'm pregnant. Please, strangers in my life...go back to ignoring me. We'll all be a lot happier!

On the upside, it's a long weekend this weekend so Happy Thanksgiving to all my fellow Canadians! Also been a good week on the rainbow front. One more rainbow baby confirmed on the way (Congrats Z!) and one due to enter the world at any minute now (Congrats Jen!). Always brightens my week to get that kind of news. Happy Friday to all and yay for short work weeks next week!

Wordless Wednesday

Did you figure it out? Tune in tomorrow :)

Walk to Remember 2010

Saturday, October 2, 2010. It's hard to believe that a year has passed since I first did this walk. Pulling up to the Legislature grounds in Edmonton I was flooded with memories. Memories of Kaycie, of my pregnancy with her, of the loss of her. Those thoughts were followed quickly by my memories of last year's walk. Of the horrible weather that so perfectly matched my mood. Of the many people I saw there and the emotions on their faces that was so perfectly mirrored by my own. Of how emotionally draining the day was and how hard it was to even be there.

This year was beautiful. The weather was beyond gorgeous feeling like a hot summer day instead of early fall. I was in a better place emotionally and more able to just be present in the moment. I imagine each year will get a little bit better. Of course it was still sad, and of course it was still emotional, but in a good way. What I took away from the day was the realization of how far I've come and how far I still have to go on this continual journey.

This year I had the immense honour of walking not only for my angel Kaycie, but also for a friend's angel, Sierra. October 2nd was Sierra's second angel day and that only added to the significance. While it may sound odd or sad to someone who isn't an angel-mother, walking for Sierra as well as Kaycie made it almost feel like my daughter had a friend. Something she never got the opportunity to experience in life. Yasmin, Tracy, and myself all released balloons for both of the angel girls and wrote them messages. I wish I had more that I could do for my daughter, but I'll take what I can get.

For the third year in a row, Kate Inglis, author of this blog, was the guest speaker. She is truly an amazing women and I encourage everyone to check out her blog. She speaks more eloquently than I ever could, so I am including her speech from this year's walk interspersed with my pictures. All words in italics are hers.

My baby died.

My baby died.

I don’t know where he is. I don’t know why.



I used to consider myself lucky. You know. Blessed. Tapped on the shoulder by some interventionist of happy fate.

I am Canadian. That’s lucky. I am a Maritimer. That’s lucky too. I’ve got the recipe for my mom’s spaghetti sauce, the kind that simmers all afternoon and makes the house smell like roasted garlic. I’ve got a little woodstove and a pile of kindling. I’ve got a farmers’ market and handmade quilts and British tea.

Lucky. I used to figure that meant being safe, being fed, being heard, being kept company.



Then I had a son, and my son was hurt by birth. He lived for a while, but not peacefully. He got worse. So they took away the ventilator

and they put him on my chest

and we waited

and we waited

and he died.

I don’t know where he is. I don’t know why.



For years I would think, everywhere I went: Ask me how many children I have. Ask me so I can tell you three, but only two. Then ask me what happened. Then ask me his name. So I can say it. And when I do, don’t look away. Look right here. Right at me. Right at him, while I say his name.

I spent a lot of time asking why me? Why does it have to be me wanting, so badly, to make a button pin to wear on my lapel that says ASK ME ABOUT MY INVISIBLE KID?



+++

Why me. It’s the ultimate unanswerable question. It’s exhausting. It makes you ache. It makes you loathe other people who, all of a sudden, seem to be every kind of lucky. Like I used to be. And I resented them for it, from this side now. The unlucky side. Peering out at them across this void and asking Why my son? Why him? Why me?

But then I woke up one day and realized: it’s not at all an unanswerable question. It’s the easiest question of all to answer. Why not me?

Then I took a breath. A very sweet, long breath. Why not?

All of us, no matter how we presume to intellectualize, or talk to a god, or reconcile, or beg, or perform, or strive to be worthy—all of us are the same. Exactly the very same. There’s a chance in the midst of that sameness that doesn’t discriminate. There’s no fault. There’s no lack of wanting. Lack of love. Lack of grace. No blame. There’s none of that. All there is... is why not?

This waking up brought me to a strange sort of humility. Accepting that nobody’s entitled. That we’re all partners in this mystery. This huge unpredictable mess of souls and longing and mistakes and laughter and tears. We’re all the same.

You might say about the rest of the world

They don’t understand.

They can’t possibly understand.

No. They can’t.

Forgive a lack of understanding.



You might say

Where are you? Where did you go?

Why?

There’s no way of knowing.

Even though you are mother, father

and you’re supposed to know these things

forgive a lack of knowing.

You might say Why us?

Twist. Why not?



Forgive this invisible parenthood.

Forgive your body.

Forgive absence.

Forgive your luck.

After a while I got kind of radical. I started to think differently about luck. If I could, would I erase it all? His pregnancy, that birth, those six weeks?

No. Never.



I pity myself for having had to go through that, for having to bear the memory of what happened to him. I pity my son for having been in pain. For never getting to taste chocolate chip cookies or sail on the ocean or get sand between his toes or fly in a plane across the world or read a book.

He is gone, but I still want him. I made him. Just as he was, just as he is.

I am Liam’s mother. What an honour.

If I twist that motherhood just a little, in the right light, maybe I gave him all that he needed, as much as I could, to some greater … I don’t want to say purpose. That’s too close to a ‘god’s plan’. That’s platitudes. That’s not what I mean. What I mean is this: there’s just so much that we don’t understand. And who’s to say that in all that we don’t understand, there can’t be something beautiful?

Humility. Setting aside all those parental instincts and entitlements. Quieting all that thrashing around at not having him safe in my house. At not tripping over his shoes.

Humility. Being okay with all this lack of knowing. With his absence. To trust in it. To surrender to it. To consider that maybe I was lucky.

I got to be Liam’s mother. I get to stand among all of you and look in your eyes and see that all of you loved a child, or the spark and potential of a child, who is not here with you. I get the company of your eyes, knowing that you know what it’s like to walk through the world with this heart that had to contain so much all at once.



We share that explosive moment during which everything we know in the human experience—love, rage, peace, despair, hope—existed simultaneously, right here. And it's the very same thing as a bleed on the brain. The heart doesn’t heal from being so stretched, so drowned. It can never go back to what it was. To ‘lucky’ as defined on a back of a matchbook.

You’ll never see anything the same way ever again. You'll pause where you didn’t pause before. And it won't always make you cry.

Sometimes, with time, it'll make you smile.

The world's oldest profession

So what on earth am I doing writing about the world's oldest profession aka prostitution? Well, a judge in Toronto, ON has ruled that Canada's prostitution laws are unconstitutional; effectively decriminalizing prostitution in Canada. Cue the outraged conservative right and let the floodgates open!

A quick note before any readers decide to head out and get lucky tonight: the judge also placed a 30-day stay on her decision. Anticipating (wisely) that her judgment is likely headed for the Supreme Court. Needless to say this will be what we're all hearing about for the next 6 months. I wonder if any politicians will be brave enough to weigh in on the issue? Feminists and women's rights activists are divided on the issue.

I personally don't see anything wrong with it. It is one of the easiest and most lucrative ways for a woman to make money. Wait! Don't take away my feminist card just yet! Just because it's lucrative doesn't mean I'm advocating it. I think every woman should be able to make decisions for her own life. There are plenty of jobs and/or careers that I could have that would be quite lucrative. The difference being that I don't want those jobs. I could (in my younger and skinnier days) have been a stripper had I so desired. So why didn't I? Because morally it felt wrong to me. But it was my decision. If a woman wants to be a prostitute, why should society stop her?

If prostitution is legal, it can be enforced thus offering women in that profession some protection. It would keep minors away from the profession and get rid of the men who seek to take advantage of women making money in an illegal fashion.

"But it's degrading to women!" the hardcore feminists will scream. To which I simply shrug my shoulders. Sex can be powerful. In fact, sex can be a powerful weapon. Being in control of your sexuality can be empowering. And let's not delude ourselves here. Men pay for sex every single night, we just don't notice it. I asked the Sperm Donor one night if he had ever paid for sex. His response? "Not with cash." Thinking about it, it makes perfect sense. If a guy wants to seduce a woman, what does he do? Buy her drinks, buy her dinner, buy her flowers etc. Where's it all leading? This isn't the 1900's. It's leading where (hopefully) both halves of the couple want it to lead.

Taking the stigma away from prostitution, removing it from the "taboo" list and working towards a healthier mindset about sex in general is a step in the right direction. I, for one, am all for it and can't wait to hear Stephen Harper's Conservatives fumble their way through this one. Bring on the political missteps! Now...where's my popcorn?

Our First Fight

Trouble Maker definitely earned her nickname last night. Although, I think my sister should take partial blame. I was talking to Tracy last night and she asked if her niece was allowing me to sleep at nights. I jokingly responded: "very rarely." She cursed me!

I went to bed at 10pm all set to get a good night's sleep before yet another week of work. Right around that time the little Trouble Maker decided to lodge herself on my right side. Head and arms pressing on my right hip and feet firmly lodged against my back. Oh. My. God. The pain! The pressure on my right hip was pinching nerves and the pain in my back felt like I had fallen down a flight of stairs.

I tried everything. There was no getting the Trouble Maker to move. I did laps around the house, I poked and prodded at my belly, I tried reasoning with her and even tried blackmailing her! "Mommy will eat that chocolate cake you've been wanting if you just move a little bit!" No such luck. I muttered under my breath, I tried stretching, a hot shower, a heating pad...nothing! On my fifth lap around the house I passed the Sperm Donor. I asked him if it was wrong to want to swear at my unborn child. He said: "yeah, probably" and even tried to help as the baby usually moves when he touches my stomach.

Eventually I just gave up and curled up in bed determined to get some sleep at least. It was now 3am and I had to be up in 3 hours! As I laid there in pain and muttering under my breath to the Trouble Maker I couldn't help but smile. As painful and tiring as it was, it beats the hell out of the alternative. Not having her causing me pain at all. How ironic that something many women would spend their Monday complaining about has actually put me in a good mood today. Even with the lack of sleep! Yet one more gift that I can thank Kaycie for.

Of course, when I woke up this morning, the Trouble Maker had moved to the middle of my belly again and was happily kicking away.

Friday Funnies

Today's edition of Friday Funnies is coming right from my own house! First for a quick recap, I moved from a city to a small town last September. A definite change of pace, but one that I was ready for at that time. Fast forward almost one year to the day...

The Welcome Wagon (aka one lady looking for gossip) showed up at the door. Better late then never? Anyway, she handed me some flowers, some papers, and some gift certificates from the four various businesses in town. I nodded and smiled and did my best to avoid her obviously prodding questions and she soon left me alone.

This is when I started going through all the papers to see what goodies were there. Of course, I couldn't resist taking a picture of the flowers she brought me...



But wait, what is that in front of the flowers? It was a blank postcard that came with my welcome package. I guess to send to someone you forgot to tell that you moved? Let's take a closer look at that postcard shall we?



No, you're not seeing things. That is a postcard of a bunch of dead birds! Curiosity got the best of me and I flipped the card over...



Well thank goodness this is a duck and goose hunter's hunting paradise. Just what I've always looked for in a home! It honestly doesn't get much more redneck than this!

Just had to share and let you all join in the laughter of what I've gotten myself into. *sigh*

Another blanket

I couldn't resist! I saw some blankets like this for sale online and thought to myself: "I can make that!" After doing some google research to figure out what the heck I was doing I went fabric shopping. I also made the mistake of looking online for fabric. I now know what is out there. My local post office is going to become overwhelmed with incoming fabric orders.

Anyway, it's the first one I've done, but I had so much fun I'm sure there will be more in the future. For a first attempt I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

Here's the front...made up of four different patterns of flannel:



A close-up of the front so you can see the "rock star" idea that I went with:




The back is done with the super-soft minky fabric again. However, this time I cut it all individually and X-stitched it to the front flannel for that quilt look:



The ruffled look on the front will only become even more ragged and soft with each washing. Here's one of the blanket all washed and folded up ready for baby:



That'll be it for new projects for about the next month. I need to catch up on some receiving blankets, burp cloths, scratch mittens and hats. I want complete sets for everything I've done so far. After that it will be on to something new. Now, what should I sew next...

Celebrating and catching up...

I had initially meant to get this post up yesterday, but an impossibly slow Internet connection prevented me from doing much of anything. Ahhh, the joys of small town life.

Anyway, yesterday was one of those days where two good things happened on the same day. It was Yasmin's birthday. Happy Birthday Yaz! It hurts that I wasn't able to spend the day with her, but we have a great day planned for Saturday, so at least I have that to look forward to. It was also the day that I hit 28 weeks. Third trimester! I never thought I would get this far. I had such a feeling of peace and happiness when I woke up yesterday morning.

Another great thing happened yesterday as well. The photographer that I went to last weekend emailed me a couple of the pictures that she had taken. I still have to wait a couple more weeks for the edited final versions, but I was so happy I got to see at least a couple!

When I hired this photographer I told her about Kaycie and that I wanted the pictures to reflect the fact that I wasn't the naive, happy, pregnant person. That I am all too aware that pregnancy is a hope...a chance, not a promise, of a baby. I also wanted a couple of the pictures to represent more than just myself. I wanted them to represent all women who go through a subsequent pregnancy after a devastating loss. The fear and hope that, all too often, exist simultaneously within us. That is what these two pictures below are of. I think she did a great job.

28 Weeks:






28 weeks 1 day down, 11 weeks 6 days to go.

Pregnant me vs. Non-pregnant me

For the last 27 and a half weeks there's been a battle waging. The battle between Pregnant me, and Non-pregnant me. I've got to say, up until very recently, Non-pregnant me has definitely been winning. This battle started as self-preservation. It was easier to believe I was Non-pregnant me in order to not get my hopes up too high. I've been waiting for the day when Pregnant me would take over and I think that day is coming soon.

This weekend proved that denial might not be an option for much longer. Here's how the weekend played out:

Non-pregnant me - "I'm going to get so much done this weekend! So many appointments and things to do plus some shopping and of course, house cleaning, laundry and cooking!"

Pregnant me - "Guess again sucker!"

Non-pregnant me got off to a great start at 5am on Saturday morning. Up and getting things accomplished and had my blood tests and glucose test done by 9am. Followed that with breakfast, shopping, more appointments, shopping, pictures, more running around and finally got home at 10pm.

Pregnant me was quiet all day letting Non-pregnant me lead the show. However, Pregnant me was apparently just biding her time. Sunday brought this:

Non-pregnant me - "One more day off still to get all the house cleaning, laundry and cooking done. I can probably also get some sewing done!"

Pregnant me - "Kiss my ass Non-Pregnant me. You had your day yesterday. Today is my day and we're going to sleep, watch some DVDs and sleep some more. I might allow some sewing if I get some rest first. Try any funny stuff and I'll make you so sick you'll be begging for your pillow."

Evidently Pregnant me is quite the bitch and definitely won that round. I finally had to bow to the pregnancy and admit that maybe, just maybe, I can't put in a 17 hour day and expect to feel 100% the next day. Time to huddle up with Non-pregnant me and devise a strategy. Maybe if we sneak in a little house cleaning and laundry each night during the week we can get a little bit more of the other stuff accomplished on the weekends!

A New Addiction

My name is Keri and I'm addicted to fabric. I've felt the addiction coming on for a while now but fully realized it yesterday when I walked into my local fabric store and felt disappointment because no new fabrics had come in. I honestly have no idea where this addiction came from!

I think it's an extension of my shopping addiction. I love colours, fabrics, and designs, and clothes shopping has always been a hobby. I think the sewing I've been doing recently has opened up my mind to the possibility of making my own clothes. Especially summer dresses, basic cotton dresses, and tops. These "comfy" clothes have always been my favourite yet I'm so often disappointed that I can't find the style or colours I want in the stores. Hopefully by next summer I'll be able to make some of my own!

Another aspect I love is the sewing itself. It keeps my hands busy yet my mind is usually free to wander. I love to daydream and just let my thoughts go and sewing gives me the perfect opportunity. Of course, as an added bonus I love the things I'm making. Last night I tried scratch mittens for the first time and really loved making them! So easy to make out of leftover fabric scraps. Not too long ago while shopping I was looking at buying some scratch mittens (once again disappointed with the boring fabrics and colours). I remember thinking "$4 for scratch mittens, that's not bad at all." I am now scoffing at that! I can make my own for about .25 cents/pair!

Here's the pair I made last night...



They were definitely a learning experience as it was the first time I've ever sewn elastic into anything, but hey...learn something new every day right!

I apparently also have issues with the idea that everything needs to match. Hence the matching receiving blankets and burp cloths...



There will soon be a matching receiving blanket for these burp cloths as well...



And yup, you guessed it, tonight I'll be doing scratch mittens to match all of these blankets and burp cloths!

Of course, with this being a Christmas baby I couldn't turn down making a blanket out of some cute Christmas material!



I'm going to have to start making some of this stuff to sell. Pretty soon I'll have wayyy to much for my little one to ever use! I have a few more projects I want to do over the next couple of weeks as well so I'm sure there will be even more pictures coming!

Finally!

I finally finished my first ever baby blanket for my baby. Professional it definitely is not, but at least I tried! It took me an entire evening and was full of swearing (I hate satin binding!), but it's done, and it's not completely horrible! It will definitely be the "grubby" blanket or the "Sperm Donor takes baby to the farm" blanket, but oh well!

Made with patterned cotton flannel on one side and super plush Minky fabric on the other it will be soft and cuddly if nothing else! Most of these blankets that I've seen for sale are simply stitched together with no binding on the outer edge. Now I know why. What a pain in the ass! Unfortunately, it really does add that final touch that I love, so I'm stuck working with the stupid stuff! Hopefully I get better at working with it over the next few blankets. More pictures to come over the next few days as I work on some receiving blankets and burp cloths!








The angle that I took the pictures at really make the blanket look bigger than it actually is. I think the finished size was 30" x 36" a little bit bigger than your standard receiving blanket. Can't wait to go fabric shopping for some more fun patterns!

United we stand?

I've tried very hard to keep politics away from this blog...I really have, honest! But to not write about something that irks me is to deny who I am as a person. With that little disclaimer in place, what has me riled up today? Feminists.

Yup, I'm a feminist and I'm pissed off at other feminists! The problem lies in the definition, or more accurately, lack of definition of the word "feminist." I think we can all agree that at its most basic level, feminism is equality for all regardless of gender. Right?

So what's the problem then? If we can all agree on that, then surely the vast majority of people in today's day and age would assume that feminism is making great strides. The actual root of the problem seems to be in the definition of "equality." Specifically that equality = choice. If every person is equal to every other person, then no one person should be able to make choices for another person. Sounds about right until the ultimate choice discussion comes up...abortion.

I've read some blogs recently (because I'm curious and apparently love to piss myself off) by a new wave of feminists. Calling themselves the "mama grizzlies" (thank you Sarah Palin *rolls eyes*)they are Conservative and calling themselves feminists. Saying "once we take marriage and abortion rights out of the equation, we are all feminists." Seriously...you can't make this stuff up people! They're out there, and even worse...they vote!

The very rights they wrap themselves in they seek to deny to other women. I have a problem with someone calling themselves a feminist yet in the next breath telling me that because I'm a woman I can't decide what to do with my own body. That someone else (aka the government - vastly over-populated with white, middle aged males) should make that decision for me. If you are a feminist, a true feminist, the very foundation of that belief system must be trust. Trust women to know what is best for their life and to make their own decisions. All of them.

It's a ...

Anti-climatic to post this now since everyone who wanted to know, already knows, but still...this is about my memories, so I need to write it down!

On August 4th when I had my Level II ultrasound down I asked the technician and Dr M if they were able to determine the gender. They said yes and asked if I wanted to know. Instead of being told there, I asked them to write it down on a piece of paper for me. I hate hospitals, I hate ultrasounds, and I hated the idea of finding out in the same room where I was given Kaycie's fatal diagnosis. I can't believe I lasted as long as I did without looking, but Yasmin and I made sure the envelope was sealed up perfectly!





After Yasmin's wedding it was time to wander down by the lake and look at the envelope. I had myself convinced - completely convinced - that I was having a boy. You can imagine my surprise when I opened the paper and saw "female." That's right, I'm having a girl! My second daughter and Kaycie's little sister. I was definitely in shock. In fact, I don't think it really started to sink in until the next morning.

The next day after the Rider game it was time to tell my sister whether she was getting a niece or a nephew. This one was going to be a big surprise since I had told her that I forgot to ask at my ultrasound what the gender was (yeah right!). I decided to have some fun with her and send her on a treasure hunt all around her house until she finally found the envelope that would tell her the news. Here's what her clues looked like...



Anyone else get the feeling that I have too much time on my hands?

Anyway, Tracy was so excited to be getting a niece that the conversation immediately turned to names and shopping! After going out for breakfast on Sunday morning we decided to go and do some shopping since we now knew what we were shopping for! I was looking for a "take baby home from the hospital" outfit and Tracy was looking for "anything pink." While I didn't find the outfit I was looking for, we found something else...a SALE! Yup, all the summer clothes were on clearance. After some quick finger math I figured out that next summer half pint would be in the 6-9 month size range. Then Tracy and I went a little nuts.



Only three of the items there (the sleepers and the pink leopard spotted onesie) are for newborns. The rest is all for next summer! But honestly, everything laid out in that picture came to a total price of $60 including tax. How could I go wrong!?!

So what's up next? I am still living life in three week increments. Starting on September 18th I have three weeks of fun in a row. For the next two weeks, house organizing, some sewing (that should be interesting!), and some sleep!

Thank you Yasmin and Tracy for a truly fun and amazing weekend. Love you both so much!

Rider Pride

What a weekend! After a beautiful wedding on Friday night, it was off to Edmonton on Saturday for my first ever live football game. I'll be the first to admit that I don't know alot about football. My whole reason for going to this game was for the fans. The Saskatchewan Roughriders really do have the best fans! The atmosphere at the games in contagious and such fun to be around.

Of course, I had to get into the spirit of things even with my big belly! Can't hide it, so might as well embrace it!



Tracy wore her jersey and we were off to the game! My maternity shirt definitely got alot of attention. Towards the end of the game I couldn't walk more than five feet without some strange guy wanting to high-5 me. Kinda like "way to go for breeding the next generation of fans!" Even if they were a bunch of drunks, it was still a blast!

The seats were amazing, second row and practically on the field with the guys. This was the view from our seats....



Very nice view!

It was hard to believe that this was an away game. The Rider fans definitely outnumbered the Eskimos. I'm already looking forward to next summer when we go to a home game. I'll definitely be painting my face for that one. I'm sure we'll see alot more guys like this...



We truly do have the best fans in the CFL!

Picture Perfect

Friday, August 27th, 2010 was a very special day. My best friend Yasmin got married. I absolutely loved how she did it. Casual, quiet, last minute, and at a very beautiful spot!



With only around 40 people in attendance it was the perfect size. Everyone got to visit with everyone else and pretty much everyone knew each other. It seemed to be a very low stress wedding, although I'm sure Yasmin would disagree with me! I especially loved the party favours she did for the tables.



Enough coffee for one pot and truly the perfect blend and the perfect couple!

After building a life together, two children together, two more children completing the family, years of building a relationship, it was such an honour to watch two such beautiful and amazing people get married.



I love you guys!

xoxo

Friday Funnies

In honour of Yasmin's wedding today I had to post this! Thank goodness she's already at the lake and won't see this post until after the wedding. Since she's getting married on the beach, here's hoping that nothing like this happens!



Congratulations Yasmin and Dustin! Wishing you both a lifetime of love and happiness!

xoxo

Feet? What Feet?

Ok, it's not as bad as that yet, but it will get there soon! I'm already trying to figure out what type of winter shoes I can buy that I can put on myself without being able to see my feet. Good problem to have!

I can actually still see my feet...I just have to bend forward a lil' ways to do it. Which, according to the Sperm Donor, isn't nearly as amusing as watching me try to get up off the bed. I've developed a system of rolling onto my side, pushing myself up on all fours, then backing off the bed until my feet touch the floor. While watching me do this one night last week the Sperm Donor started saying: "BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!" Like a truck backing up with a warning sound. Needless to say, if I could have caught him he would have been in a world of pain!

I haven't completely lost my sense of humour about it though. If I were watching a friend of mine get off a bed that way I'd likely laugh too. I'm sure it does look pretty amusing!

In honour of reaching 24 weeks yesterday I took some belly pictures. Try not to laugh too hard, I'm only going to get bigger!

The day I've been waiting for

Today is the day. We made it to 24 weeks! Why is 24 weeks such a big deal? Because 24 weeks is considered viability. The point at which, if born, a healthy baby has a good chance of surviving.

Of course it wouldn't be optimal if a baby were born at this point. It would be months in the NICU, touch and go for awhile with many ups and downs. On top of all of that there could be developmental problems later on in life. But still...when you go from one baby who was given zero chance of survival even at full term to another baby that has been deemed healthy (so far) and at the 24 week mark...what an amazing feeling.

I think the actual percentage is upwards of 80% or more chance of survival if born today. I'll take those odds! It is still such a rollercoaster but just for one minute, just for today, I want to take a second and pat myself on the back. Take a break from the constant worry and stress and be thankful that we made it this far.

As if to make today even more poignant, Asher (a special day means no sarcastic "pet" names like Sperm Donor) felt the baby kick for the first time last night. While he and I are not together, I've given him free rein to touch my stomach at any time. I think it's important for both him and the baby. Every time he touches my stomach the baby kicks, but last night was the first time he felt it. He didn't say much about it, but he went very quiet. I think it affected him more than he's letting on.

As for me, I'm just excited about this weekend! So many good things happening that I will have a ton to post about next week. I just need to get through the next 48 hours of work so I can get out of here!

Babyloss Meme

This meme (I have yet to figure out what a "meme" really is although I hear the word alot lately) is going around various blogs with invitations to all babyloss mothers and fathers to copy and add their own answers. I've been feeling really down and melancholy lately so I thought I would give it a try. For any other babyloss moms (and dads) that blog, please copy to your own blogs and add your answers if you'd like. The only way to make discussing baby and pregnancy loss less taboo is to talk about it more.

1. What do you want people to know about the child (or children) you have lost?

I think the most important thing that I would like people to know is that when I grieve for Kaycie I'm not just grieving the physical loss of her. I'm grieving all the hopes, dreams, and plans I had for her and for us. I want people to know that I held her and that handing her back to the nurses was the hardest thing I've ever done in my entire life. I want people to know that I think about her every single day and I will continue to until the day I die.

2. What names did you give (or plan to give) your child(ren) and why?

When I first found out I was pregnant my first instinct was that I was having a girl. It didn't take me long to come up with the name Casey. Of course, I wanted a unique way of spelling it hence: Kaycie. I loved the name Kaycie because it was feminine without being too "girly." The middle names were a little bit harder. Ultimately I had decided to go with Kaycie Joy Peyton after my mom and Asher's mom. However, when we found out we were going to lose Kaycie I decided to drop the two middle names in case I ever wanted to use them again.

After my targeted level II ultrasound they told me my instinct was correct and I was having a girl. However, after giving birth, the geneticist that examined Kaycie informed me that she was actually a he. Looking back now I should have questioned that because it went against everything I knew instinctively. Anyway, at that point we went with Lennon as the middle name and kept Kaycie as the first name. A few weeks later my doctor called with the chromosome analysis. She casually mentioned that Kaycie was a girl. With the double X in the chromosome report, there was no mistaking it this time. Yasmin had already given me a piece of jewellery with Kaycie's initials on it so I knew I definitely wanted to keep the "L" middle name. I decided to go with Lily. I've always loved the name and I knew using a flower would give me a way to memorialize Kaycie very easily. All of this contributed to her very short name which took a long time to get: Kaycie Lily

3. What rituals or ways of memorializing your child(ren) seem to best help you cope with your loss.

For me spending time alone in nature is the best way for me to cope. Being outside surrounded by nature makes me feel closer to Kaycie and allows me just to let the feelings come and embrace them. I don't have to worry that I will make anyone uncomfortable or that my emotions are out of place. I can just be me.

4. What are the kindest and/or most helpful things people have said to you? What are the worst?

I think the kindest thing that anyone has ever said to me was: "The ONLY thing you have to do right now is breathe." It reminded me that it was ok that the house wasn't clean, food wasn't cooked, bills weren't paid and phone calls weren't returned. That it was ok that I had experienced something that was so devastating and life altering that simply breathing and making it through each minute, hour, and day were enough. They followed that with a great quote: "To bury a parent is horrible. To bury your own child is unnatural." The truest statement I have ever heard.

I think the worst thing that anyone has ever said to me was: "Your daughter is in a better place now." While I understand it was said with good intentions, it was definitely the wrong thing to say. What better place could there be for my daughter than safe in her mother's loving arms? The platitudes that people say when they don't know what to say almost always do more harm than good. Please remember that if you are faced with a similar situation the kindest thing to say is: "I'm sorry for your loss" and leave it at that.

A woman on my support board put together the following video to illustrate how it feels to be grieving and constantly hear these types of platitudes. Remember, we hear these things from dozens, sometimes hundreds of people. Eventually a grieving mother will snap!

You can see the video here.

5. Who is your hero? Who helps you make it through the dark days better than anyone else on the planet?

This is a tough one. My heroes are the thousands of other women who have gone through the same thing. The women who continue to go back to a website and reach out to new members to show them that they too will survive. The ones who take time out of their busy lives to help those who are in their darkest hour. The women who have shown me that you can survive and maybe, just maybe, find a little goodness in a terrible tragedy.

The people who help me make it through the dark days? That would be my sister and Yasmin. The two women in my "real life" who are always there when I need to vent or cry or just be myself. The women who either console me or make me laugh depending on what I need. The ones who distract me when I need to get my mind off things and the ones who have held my hand for the last 14 months. I have no idea where I would be without them.

6. Is there anything you need to say or want to say but haven't been able to? Can you say it now?

There is something that I've both needed and wanted to say, but no, I can't say it yet. Maybe by the end of the year I'll be able to. If I'm able I'll come back to this post then.

7. How are you doing? How are you really doing?

When people ask me how I'm doing it is so easy and convenient to say "fine." It's what everyone says. How am I really doing? I'm struggling. I'll admit that. I've been dealt some pretty tough blows over the last 14 months. I'm still standing, but I'm definitely starting to sway. I just really want to curl up under my covers in bed and sleep for a week. Since that's not an option, I'll do what Zohra always says: keep on keeping on!

It's a zoo!

I made reference to this in my last post and figured I had better clear up the confusion. I have cats. Well, sort of. I had noticed a stray hanging around the house for the last year looking for scraps or anything the dogs dug up. I would shoo her away assuming she belonged to a neighbour. Last month I went outside to water my plants and this stray went darting out from underneath the deck, across the driveway and into some bushes. I didn't think anything of it until something else caught my eye. I turned and looked around again and saw a small procession of kittens following their mom from underneath the deck over to the bushes. First one, then another, then another and then a straggler! I hung around outside for awhile and thought I counted five kittens!

The Sperm Donor happened to be over that night so I called for him to come outside. By now the kittens had disappeared but I explained what I had seen. His response was classic as always. "Kittens!?! How did that happen?" I stared at him for a minute then looked down at my rapidly expanding belly before saying: "Well, if you haven't figured that out by now..." the Sperm Donor laughed and went back downstairs. Of course, being the softy that I am I couldn't let those poor kittens scavenge for food so I snuck some cream outside for them (without the Sperm Donor knowing).

The next day when I got home from work there was a bag of cat food on the kitchen table. What the hell? Apparently the cuteness of the kittens had gotten into that concrete heart of his and he had decided to feed them. I for one was thrilled! I couldn't stand the idea of the poor kittens having to go through trash to find food. I happily put out food and water and waited to see what was going to happen. Here is what I saw...

Ignore the fuzziness of the pictures, I had to take them through my (very dirty) kitchen window.

Feeding time at the zoo!!!



This is when I realized that I had gotten it wrong. There weren't five kittens, there were seven!



With full bellies, it was time for a nap.




The boxes they're laying on were actually set outside so I could take them for recycling. They have since been turned into a bed/playground for the kittens. As much as I hate it, I'll suck up the white trash look of a bunch of messy cardboard since it makes them so happy!

So what to do now? They're sticking around and get quite demanding if I don't feed them on time, but they won't let me get near them yet. They are easily at an age where they can be separated from their mother yet I have no idea how to go about doing it. We have homes for all of them we just need to catch them! Any ideas? As cute as they are, I can't afford to feed eight cats forever!