Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Bestill my beating heart

I had my OB visit today and Rob and I got to hear the baby's heartbeat! Like we did with Sam, Rob and I recorded a short video of the beautiful sound. The baby was kicking like crazy as we were listening and the doctor commented, "Wow, you have an active one already!"

Needless to say, we are thrilled as we took a sigh of relief to be out of the woods.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Checking in

Hey! Still here! Still pregnant! I'm 11 weeks today and all is well. I know I shouldn't have had such a long gap between my last post and now, but I've been immensely fatigued and sick beyond all that is decent and holy. The doctors tell me this is a good sign. I'm not sure I share the sentiment but am so thankful things are progressing nicely.

Will check in again soon with more news and excitement.

For what it's worth, my life is really not that exciting and it often takes me 5 weeks or so to have enough material to fill up one post. But please, keep stroking my ego and check back often! And leave some comments, damn it!

Sunday, November 04, 2007


Friday night I had the scare of a lifetime. Sam and I were waiting for Rob to come home from work so we could have our big family-Friday night out. At 5:15pm or so, I got up from the recliner, where I had been sitting for a half hour, to get an apple. (I had been resting because I had some cramping that was stronger than the normal pregnancy aches and pains.)

When I reached the refrigerator, I felt something leaking out of me, which caught me by surprise but that which I had quickly dismissed as typical pregnancy stuff. A few seconds later I felt another gush of fluid and I immediately closed the fridge door and headed for the bathroom. When I reached the hall bath, I pulled my pants down, sat down on the toilet and looked in horror as my underwear and shorts were soaked with blood. I continued to bleed into the toilet while I tried to wipe away the nightmare. I broke into sobs and cried over and over, "No, God, no. Please no." Sam heard me crying and he yelled from the other room, "Mama laugh!" He happily ran into the bathroom to see what all the fun was and he stopped short when he saw the blood on my shorts and that Mama was indeed crying. My sweet son came over to me and gently rubbed my arm and softly corrected himself, "Mama cry."

After a few minutes I was able to get up and reach the phone. I called Rob at work and told him through hysterical sobs that I was bleeding. He hung up after telling me he'd be right home. I then called my parents and told my father that I was bleeding heavily and that I was afraid I was having a miscarriage. My mom got on the phone and tried to talk me through my horrible ordeal. My mom's first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage and I was asking her what had happened to her. I could barely talk. I was so upset and scared. This couldn't be happening.

Rob called me from the road and we quickly negotiated arrangements for Sam so he and I could go to the hospital. Rob called his parents, who live 4 miles away, and his mother was over in minutes. We left the house by 6pm and headed for triage. Rob and I held hands in the car and rode in silence, struggling with our own thoughts of what might be happening.

When we arrived at the hospital, the bleeding had slowed but not stopped. We signed in and were told we would likely be there for a few hours. To us, this was an emergency for which I should be seen immediately. The triage nurse told me that, unfortunately, if I am miscarrying there is nothing they can do to stop it. I still hadn't stopped crying.

I was called back for bloodwork and the ultrasound relatively quickly. The ultrasound technician settled down for her work when I asked her if she would turn the monitor so I could see as well. She nicely told me that she can't do that and quickly got to work. Rob could see the monitor, so I laid there and watched his face for signs of relief. Twenty minutes passed and the ultrasound tech was still measuring and reviewing. After what seemed like an eternity, Rob squeezed my hand as his eyes filled up with tears. He saw the baby and his/her beating heart. At the end of the exam, the tech finally turned the monitor so I could see our baby. The heartbeat was beating strong at 186 beats per minute. A wave of relief rushed over me and I began to cry again - this time happy tears.

We still had to wait for the doctor to review the scan. I went to the bathroom to clean up and change and found I was still bleeding. I still had a sick feeling in my stomach but I was enormously relieved that the baby was still alive.

My parents had arrived at the hospital right as my ultrasound was over. Rob met them in the lobby when he told them that we saw a heartbeat. All three of them welled up with tears (my Mom did more than well) and came to meet me in triage. We all waited for the doctor's report.

An hour later, Rob and I were called back to discuss the results with the triage nurse. She informed us that the ultrasound results were completely normal. She explained the placenta is fine and placed in a good spot in my uterus. The baby is fine and all is well. The nurse explained that the uterus is an extremely vascular area and bleeding can happen for a number of reasons. It could have been caused from a blood clot, a broken blood vessel or a tear from the placenta growing up the uterus. I was advised to go home and rest, avoid walking, standing and lifting.

Everything was fine. Thank God, everything was fine.

Today, two days later, we are still reeling from our experience. We are so deeply grateful that everything is fine. I will follow up with my obstetrician on Monday. I think we will all take a collective sigh of relief when this first trimester is over.

As I was typing this blog, I laughed out loud at a funny commercial. Sam came running from his play room and said, "Mama! What's wrong?" I told him that I was just laughing and he gently rubbed my belly and said, "Mama, be happy." When I go to the bathroom he follows me and checks to make sure "Mama's pants all clean." It amazes me how much this experience affected him - what he saw and how it made him feel. On Friday, Rob and I talked about our night as we laid in bed. Rob said, "God forbid that something might have happened, Shan. I understand why they tell you to wait until 12 weeks to tell people of your pregnancy. But for us, so many people supported us, so we let it out. But how would we have told Sam?" That question brought silence between us again. My husband held me that night as we fell asleep. He is my protector. Sam is following close in his footsteps.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

October 2007 in pictures

Enjoy the pictures from October!

Sam with his Growing Tree. We bought this for him when he turned one and we take a picture of him and his tree every year on his birthday.

Captain Sam the fearsome pirate and Mom with her gratuitous cleavage shot.

All ready to Trick-or-Treat!

"What?! There is a mutiny on the bounty?!"

"My faithful subjects will be rewarded. All others will walk the plank!"

"Look Dad! I want that pumpkin!"
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Thursday, October 25, 2007

June 10, 2008

Hi. Today was a pretty cool day. I saw a friend for lunch and Sam and I ran a few errands. Oh yeah, and we saw a picture of our new baby for the very first time. We even heard the heartbeat. Yeah, it was pretty cool. This casual composure is totally fake because I'M SO FREAKING EXCITED!!!!

The newest member of the Sinanian family, Tiny Baby as Sam calls him/her, will arrive around June 10, 2008. We have just seven short months to go. There is so much to do and prepare for in that time. The main thing being that I need to wrap my brain around the fact that YES, I am indeed pregnant, and YES we're having another baby. Holy Shit, people. While I sit here in utter disbelief, feast your eyes on Tiny's first headshot. There are even little arms already! How beautiful!

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Monday, October 22, 2007

All grown up

Sam woke up from his nap today and spralled out on the carpet to take in a few minutes of "Go, Diego, Go!" while he relaxed. He was lying on the floor, arm perched under his head for a pillow, with his legs casually crossed and just chilled. As I walked past, I flashed to 12 years from now when he is a teenage boy, doing that exact same thing, watching car remodeling shows or MTV.

A bit later, I was straightening up the office when he came in holding a cheese stick.

Sam asked, "Mama, Sam have cheese please?"

"Did you get that out of the fridge by yourself?"

Sam replied, "Yes."

"Did you close the door?"

"Yes!" he said, with a tinge of "no duh, Mom!" to his voice.

I gladly opened the cheese stick wrapper for him and sighed because, like it or not, he is still growing up.

Friday, October 05, 2007

Happy Birthday, Sam

My Sweet Sam,
Time has gone so quickly since your last birthday. Look at how much you've grown!

Mommy and Sam (age 1)

Sam (age 2)

Two years ago, you blessed me with your birth and you continue to be my miracle. You humble me with your tenderness and amaze me with your keen observations. You don't miss a thing! This past year your personality and vocabulary have exploded! You delight Daddy and me every day.

I feel so blessed that God gave me such a unique and amazing child. I love to watch you grow and learn. You've even taught me many things in your two short years. You've taught me what it is to love with every fiber of my being. I've learned to have patience when I thought I was at the end of my rope. I now know that the stubborn children are more work, but that they love as hard as they fuss. I have learned that being your Mommy makes me whole.

Happy birthday, my sweet son. May this year bring you fascinating discoveries, new adventures and more love than you can imagine. You are my little buddy, my sweet son and my very heart.

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Friday, September 21, 2007


It is interesting to see how many words have the word "rage" embedded in them. I feel like one of those words right now. I don't know how to continue trying to feel normal when I'm jacked-up on hormones and waiting for the end of another failed cycle. These injectable hormones make me feel like someone, something, I've never felt before. I feel such intense pressure in my head from the severe headaches they cause and I have this rage inside me because I just want this to fucking work. I keep telling myself:

Don't get discouraged.
Have an alcoholic beverage.
It can take months to get pregnant, on average.
Don't disparage.
I wish we had insurance coverage.
The cost of these drugs is outrageous.
At least I have the help of amazing doctors. To not would be a tragedy.

And mostly:

Keep up the courage to continue.

It is all worth it in the end.

Torment the dog to amuse the child

Here is a video of me chasing my poor dog with a nasal aspirator while Sam squeals with delight. Yes, I make a game of chasing my loving pet with bathroom toiletries; the nasal aspirator being a favorite because the swift puff of air it delivers sends Emma running for the hills, leaving me and Sam in her wake.

Click HERE for the video.
(It's a bit dark, but you can still see the action.)

Monday, September 17, 2007


A dear friend of mine recently travelled to Colorado and New Mexico with her family for vacation. We met for lunch today after our 2-week hiatus and she handed me a small gift she picked up for me while away. Inside the small, green bag was a circular maplewood box with an engraving and inlaid turquoise stone atop. Attached was a card which reads:

Legend of the Dreambox
The Legend of the Dreambox (often attributed to Lemuria) suggests writing down your fondest dream, greatest desire, strongest wish on a small piece of paper, putting that paper in a Dreambox and placing it beside your bed. Every evening as you retire and every morning as you rise, hold your Dreambox and think of your dream, believing with all your heart that it is so. Legend has it, if done faithfully...your dream will come true.

Engraved on the top of the box is Kokopelli, an ancient Native-American Deity of fertility. He is depicted as a humpbacked flute player, and is thought to carry unborn babies on his back and deliver them to women.

I cried when I saw the small gift my friend had brought to me. Although it may seem like a "trinket" as she put it, this gift means more to me than just that. I am so blessed to have friends who think of me and show their love and support during this difficult time. Thanks, Friend. I appreciate you more than you know. I will certainly use my Dreambox and hope that Kokopelli stops by for a visit soon!

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Well, crap.

Today feels like a tough day. Last Wednesday I learned that our first medicated cycle failed and I have a cyst to boot. I have to take birth control pills until the cyst goes away, not for fear of getting pregnant but to hasten the departure of the unwelcome guest on my right ovary.

I am in wait mode, which seems to be the hardest part about infertility treatments. And I feel like I'm always doing it.

There isn't much to say. I have a sad feeling in my heart and I really hope the next cycle, whenever that my be, works.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Sam is 22 months old!

Our little Sam is 22 months old. It still amazes me how fast the time has gone. Here is a brief synopsis of the wondrous and amazing toddler-like things he is doing now:

He reads books to me and Rob, filling in blanks as we go. He knows almost all of Goodnight Moon and Snuggle Puppy, just to name a few.

He is doing rather well with identifying his colors, which we practice at every chance. He loves to color with his markers - taking the caps on and off and being sure to "snap" the caps on fully. He is so thorough.

He calls his Grandparents by their first names - this being my in-laws, whom I refer to by their first names, but always as Grandma and Grandpa to Sam. I'm not quite sure they like it as it seems a bit impersonal, but it is adorable when he sees Grandpa and exclaims with an air of surprise, "Bob!"

He sings Row, Row, Row your boat, Happy Birthday and another lullaby I sing to him that I don't know the name of but one that my mom sang to me as a kid.

He swims like a fish, sans floaties, and jumps off the side of the pool.

He says "Please" and "Thank you" with alarming regularity.

He asks to use the potty constantly, even though he has never actually "used the potty."

He knows the names of my friends and their kids and asks about them regularly. It is so sweet.

When asked, "Sam, where do we put our money?" he replies "In the bank!"

When I buckle him in his car seat, he reminds me that he buckles up "for safety."

He continues to amaze us in so many ways and he gets more and more cute every day. :)

Deja vu

I just finished my first cycle of injectable medications and we had our IUI on Saturday morning. There isn't really a whole lot to say right now. I have to wait two long and arduous weeks before I find out if this whole gig worked.

Until then, we wait!!

(crossing fingers, rubbing lucky rabbit's foot, praying, throwing gobs of change into wishing wells, hugging Sam a little tighter for good luck and generally obsessing.)

Monday, July 09, 2007

Step 3 of 1,000,....yeah, yeah, I think you get it

I had my post -op appointment today. I sat with my ass hanging out from the paper drape for a good 15 minutes before I was seen. My incisions were examined and the bruise around my belly button, which has lightened to a lovely shade of yellow, were all given the OK. I can resume normal activity, which to Rob means sex and to me means trying to kill myself at the gym. Either way, I end up breathless and sweaty and feel better when I'm finished. Ahem... moving on.

The doctor also told us that I need to start injectable medications at the end of the month. I have an appointment for two weeks from today (why is this shit always timed in minimum 2-week increments?) to have a consultation on shooting up. Of course the clinic didn't phrase it that way. Hell, they can't even say "intercourse" and insist on using the term "relations." Every time I hear the nurse or doctor tell us to have "relations" I think of the Klump family in the movie The Nutty Professor badgering the poor woman at dinner about having "relations" with Sherman. Then I suddenly want to fart and start cheering "Hercules! Hercules!"

So, that is all there is to say about that. On a closing note, I just have to get pregnant now because of this great news. Being pregnant never looked so good! Riiiiiight.

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Step 2 of 1,000,000

The surgery was a success. My fallopian tubes are clear and I didn't have any endometriosis on my ovaries. The doctor found some new endometriosis other various places and removed it with a laser. He removed the fluid that prevents me from getting pregnant and also removed a ton of adhesions that had formed from my c-section scar. I had thick stalks of scar tissue pulling on my bladder and uterus. I'm glad to have that removed so peeing won't be such an issue like it was before. Rob and I watched the video of the surgery, complete with narration by Dr. Loy which was interesting and nauseating all at the same time. I have still pictures as well and considered posting some here, but thought better of it. We go on Monday for our post-op appointment and to discuss our options.

At the pre-op appointment, Rob and I asked several questions regarding my hormone levels. I asked if my prognosis is grim and I was told, "No, it isn't grim." The doctor told us we could try on our own after the surgery but wouldn't suggest trying for more than a month before coming in and starting injectable medications. They are expensive - about $1000 a month and we're not sure if I'll respond well, but we're going to try.

I'm anxious to talk to Dr. Loy about the results of my surgery while I'm not under the influence of anesthesia. I don't remember talking to him at all, and Rob's memory was a bit sketchy because he was given so much information. I had seriously thought of bringing a tape recorder to the hospital to record the post-op conversation, but I thought that might be over doing it a little.

So, step 2 is complete. I made it through and we got good news. Whew.


Wednesday, June 20, 2007

A not-so-perfect 10

Tonight Sam was playing with his blocks. He was taking them out of the box, one by one and stacking them on the tile. As he reached for each block, he counted.

Sam counted to TEN!!

I'm still standing here beside myself in amazement. Rob and I were so shocked that Sam counted for the next five minutes before we thought of recording it on our video camera.

10. That is a big number. OK, so he missed 4 and 7 a few times, but he made up for it by repeating 6 and 8 at least three times! I helped him along when he seemed stuck, but by-and-by he counted to 10 all by himself!

Wow. He is counting to ten and I'm still counting the ways in which I love him.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Pomegranate - Wear to make aware

I have a healthy, happy son. I am blessed to have my miracle baby. He was hard-won and we're trying to give him a sibling. I am 32 years old and have endometriosis. To add insult to injury, I've recently been diagnosed with what seems to be premature ovarian failure. My infertility has worsened since giving birth to Sam. This makes me angry and sad and desperate to move quickly, for whatever window of opportunity I have is quickly closing.

Some may say that I should be happy with what I have - that some women never experience pregnancy or have the end result of a healthy baby. "Never worse than never again," is something a fellow infertile blogger wrote. The news of my failing ovaries blindsided me. I did not have Sam prepared to stop at one. Yes, I enjoyed every milestone of Sam's infancy the best I could, but I did not live it like it was my last. I've always dreamed of two or three children. I want another baby. If that makes me selfish or greedy, then tell that to my heart.

Infertility is lonely. It is all consuming and the emotions it brings are very hard to understand unless you've lived it. The shame, depression and guilt of infertility often cause debilitating silence of the sufferer. No one knows what say. I don't know what else to talk about. I feel so alone. Then I read another post of one of my frequented blogs. The History of Infertility's Common Thread helps women like me to not feel so alone. Please read this blog post that I've pasted below. If you see a man or woman with a pomegranate-colored bracelet on their right wrist, say a prayer for that person that they will overcome their struggles with infertility. Perhaps say a kind word (don't say "Just relax" or "Don't worry!") or just simply acknowledge that you know what the bracelet means.

For anyone who has ever had a miscarriage, struggled with pregnancy, and all things infertile...there is a movement upon us that you might want to join. It's rather simple actually: a discreet ribbon on your right wrist to signal to others that they are not alone in their struggles.

As someone who has had 5 m/c but am currently 5 months pregnant (YEAH), I wonder who looks at my big belly with sadness because they are in the month-to-month struggle. I mentioned to a friend that I wished there was some secret nod or international sign as if to say, this belly was hardwon. Well, she posted this quandary on her blog (http://www.stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/) and the response has been quite overwhelming...and a movement has been born!

The pomegranate-colored thread holds a two-fold purpose: to identify and create community between those experiencing infertility as well as create a starting point for a conversation. Women pregnant through any means, natural or A.R.T., families created through adoption or surrogacy, or couples trying to conceive during infertility or secondary infertility can wear the thread, identifying themselves to others in this silent community. At the same time, the string serves as a gateway to conversations about infertility when people inquire about its purpose. These conversations are imperative if we are ever to remove the social stigma attached to infertility. Tie on the thread because you’re not alone. Wear to make aware. Join us in starting this conversation about infertility by purchasing this pomegranate-coloured thread (#814 by DMC) at any craft, knitting, or variety store such as Walmart or Target. Tie it on your right wrist. Notice it on others. Just thought I would pass the word along!

Friday, June 15, 2007

Step 1 of 1,000,000

The surgery has been scheduled for June 29, 2007.

So now? We wait.

Monday, June 11, 2007

And men think women never fake it

My brain actually hurts. It is so filled with thoughts that it has swollen to twice its size and is pressing on my skull. Or so it seems. It has only been 5 days since the fateful phone call yet it seems like an eternity. I still don't have my surgery scheduled. I called last week and left a message for the scheduling lady. At the end of her voice mail greeting, she informed her callers that multiple calls will not help, but rather delay a return call. I understand that desperate patients (ahem) have the propensity to call several times an hour and she would probably spend more time checking her voice mail than actually doing work, but I happen to be one of those desperate and emotional patients. Perhaps "patient" isn't the word we should be using here. How about client? That seems more fitting.

I often wonder what it must be like to work at an infertility clinic. I hold my doctor in the highest regard; an almost God-like regard. His nurses are great too. The office is extremely efficient and I hardly ever wait more than 5 minutes when I have a appointment. The reason that the scheduling lady hasn't called me back is legitimate. She is on vacation. However somewhere in my crazy oh-my-God-my-biological-clock-is-about-to-explode mind, I think that these people should never vacation, or eat lunch or take bathroom breaks. The future of my family or quite possibly the human race lies in their hands. They should work tirelessly, day and night to find cures and soothe the over-active minds of infertile women.

I've always be a planner. That might even be an understatement as I'm always thinking not only days ahead, but months and years. It is a physical impossibility for me to shut my mind off, while Rob on the other hand can actually decide to not think about something. I have thought of every what-if scenario regarding my infertility issues that I can imagine and my planned response for each. Rob lovingly told me this weekend that there are so many things that I can't control, that worry will not change these things and if everything comes out OK (which he also assured me it will) then my endless hours of worry were for naught. I agree with his logic. I just don't know what to do with myself in the meantime.

My eyes have been burning since Wednesday. My throat houses a permanent lump and I am on the verge of a sob all day. I have been pretty good at distracting myself with working out, shopping, cleaning and visiting with friends, but in reality I'm just covering up my worry with these things. The only thing that can completely take me away from the chaos is being with Sam and even then I return when I realize he may never have a sibling. My eyes fill with tears when he does something amazing, which is ALL THE TIME. He is so wonderful - beyond words- that I can't imagine not having more. I think secondary infertility is so much worse than primary infertility because you know what you're missing if you can't have more.

When I read back over this I think, "My God, Shannon, you're so dramatic." I am tempted to delete the whole post and put on the Tough-y Tiger act. But then instead of dramatic I'd be fake and, to me, that is so much worse.

In my heart I know that things will be fine. One way or another, I'll find peace with whatever happens, be it another child or the mother of just my incredible son. I tell myself to try to breathe deeply and have faith. The planner in me is screaming for answers faster than they are coming. Even if this whole journey takes years, I'd be OK with it if I knew the outcome. The not knowing is the hardest part. The hoping for the best and preparing for the worst is exhausting. The self-imposed guilt is overwhelming. The thoughts of insane selfishness of wanting more when I already have more that I could ever wish for wear me down. It is selfish, I suppose. Sam is so silly and smart and such a sweet soul that I want more. I want another baby to snuggle close and watch grow. I want Sam to have a sibling to fight with, teach and learn from. I want the time to slow down because my baby is no longer a baby and is growing faster than I like.

Deep breath.

The scheduling lady will be back on Wednesday. Hopefully she'll call me back this week to get my surgery on the books. Until then, I'll try to focus on making it to Wednesday without going ape shit. Just two more days.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

What is it worth?

A phone call I received today at 4:30pm changed everything.

When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to grow up. I used to look at my parents with envy as they sat on the couch in the evenings, relaxing and watching TV. Man, they had it so easy. I still had homework to do. My day hadn't ended like theirs had when they left the office. I just couldn't wait to grow up. I wanted boobs, and my period and boys to notice me. I used to dream of being a woman and a wife. It seems the part of me that took heed of my 10-year old wish was my ovaries. They have aged quicker than the rest of me, according to my blood tests and my egg reserve is low. I heard this today on the phone. This is when everything changed.

I called the RE's office this week. Something seemed off with me. My periods were coming early and I certainly hadn't gotten pregnant in the months we've been trying, I wasn't too alarmed. But still, something didn't set right with me. The nurse asked that I have some blood tests done to check out my hormone levels. "Let's see what your ovaries are up to, " she said. That very day I slapped my arm down on the table, donned a tourniquet and pumped out a vial or two for the nice phlebotamist lady. "Your doctor will have the results tomorrow. Have a nice day."

I was not prepared for the news. I know I have endometriosis, but I never thought that my clock was ticking so loudly. I was informed today that my FSH levels are high which means that my ovaries are having to work harder to produce viable eggs. My egg count and quality is low and I will have to use injectable medication to help me produce some good, strong eggs. This is after surgery to clean out the endometriosis, which might be as soon as next week. The nurse urged me, "While I don't want you to be alarmed, I DO want you to understand how serious this is." I asked my questions and took my notes. She asked me to call back in the morning to talk to the scheduling person to get surgery on the books. With my head still spinning, I thanked her for the call, hung up and began to shake. Over dinner, I explained to my loving and amazingly supportive husband the news. He is 110% behind me and is ready to get on with this business. I am aboard the infertility roller coaster again, buckled in and holding on tight!

Injectables? Surgery? Increased chance for multiples? Low egg reserve? I'm only thirty-freaking-two. This isn't supposed to happen for at least 10 years. Hell, a 60-year old woman just gave birth to TWINS. How can this be happening!? I don't want to grow up so fast! Slow down! I didn't mean it when I said I wanted to be old! I was only 10! What the hell did I know?

My mind has been racing since I hung up this afternoon. I have already started asking myself so many questions. "Is it worth going through all this when we already have a wonderful child? Should we just stop at one?" I remember how desperate and emotional I felt when I was trying to get pregnant with Sam. The imagined pregnancy symptoms and the crushing disappointment every month when the tests showed negative. I remember my difficult pregnancy and delivery. The 37 hours of labor that ended in a cesarean. The preeclampsia and 8 days in the hospital. I remember all of it. But what casts away those unsettling memories is the thought that I have an amazing and beautiful son who completes me in more ways than I can imagine. Sam makes me a better person, and since becoming his Mom, I can look inside myself and like what I see. Knowing what it is like to love Sam makes all of surgery and treatments worth it. I would do it all a million times over to get Sam. When I look at Sam and he delights me with another silly antic, I think, "How can I not try?"

So long are the idealistic dreams of conceiving naturally. Somehow though, I know this is how it is meant to happen for us. I believe that all things happen in the right order. The infertility experience and taxing delivery of Sam brought Rob and I so much closer. We have an understanding and experience that only he and I share. We know what we're capable of and what we're willing to do for our family. We're excited and holding our heads up strong in the face of this new adventure. Just think! As early as next month, I will be batshit crazy on injected hormones! Aren't you excited!? We sure are.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Tidbit Round-up

I went out for our quarterly Girl's Night with my girlfriends last week. While I was waiting for them to arrive, I was hit on by a man. I know! Pick yourself up off the floor and keep reading. This man, was unfortunately SIXTY years old. This drunken, squinty-eyed man was stumbling into tables and would spontaneously break into song, bastardizing the Beatles and Elton John. It was frightening and annoying and looking back on the situation I would have been a rude bitch to they guy from the word go had I known he was going to hang around the entire evening. Now, mind you, it is not that I want to be hit on by anyone other than my husband, but a girl likes to know she's still got it, whatever "it" may be. I apparently do and it is aging and moldy.


Sam's swim lessons are coming along, well, swimmingly. He is improving every day and yet I still can't believe we have 25 more lessons before this is over. Can you tell I'm growing tired of the daily trek to the pool?


Rob and I are going to attempt to make a headboard for our bed this weekend. We have decided to go with the upholstered headboard style and picked out the design and fabric of our liking. I think the padded headboard will serve me well for evenings when I've had too much of my job and need a good head banging.


I bought two pairs of espadrilles last week. One pair is all stripey and has ties that go around my ankles and I'm not sure if they're cutting edge cute or way ugly, but I'm going to go with the cute theory until one of my girlfriends has the guts to tell me to take them off and never wear them again.


I was not able to sign up for the Danskin Triathlon this year. I was very much anticipating doing this race again, but alas it filled up in two days and I missed the boat. SO! Instead my husband is taking me to the lovely Leu Gardens for the Spring Moon stroll which consists of sitting amidst beautiful botanical gardens, while sipping wine and groovin' to live Jazz. I had to miss out on the Moon Stroll last year because the triathlon was the following morning. But THIS YEAR I plan on packing my picnic basket, plopping my butt down on the grass and polishing off a bottle of wine myself! AND! Since the Moon Stroll falls on the day between my birthday and Mother's Day, Rob is thrilled he can wrap my gifts up in one evening and exclaim, "Happy Mother's Day, Birthday Girl!"


Rob and I have planned a trip to New York in mid-May. We're super excited about the trip as it is the first trip we've planned since our Honeymoon. We're due!


I got a new car.


Sam can climb up on our glider chair now which he does often and rocks himself while he watches Noggin. I hate to have to break it to him, but we're going to sell that lovely glider chair so we can purchase a big fat recliner instead.


I've decided to never weigh myself again. End of story.


There is nothing else new to report. You've just read my entire life's happenings.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Splish splash

If today was my last day on earth, I'd feel like I spent it wisely and with a happy heart. I love my child beyond words. He is growing and learning every day and he is such a rock star.

Sam had his second swim lesson today. I arrived at the Y about an hour before his lesson so that I could do the step/strength/kill-Shannon class. Sam was a bit apprehensive about the day care, but thankfully Pam was there to calm his fears and more importantly play with him on the playground! I made it through the class with 5 minutes to spare before the girl from the day care came to get me. I hurried to get my little man, with a sigh of relief as he saved me from the remainder of the grueling ab routine I was struggling through. He waved goodbye to Pam (my savior) and we went to the locker room for a quick change.

Sam recognized the routine from the day before and let out a few whimpers in protest. When his lesson started, he entered the pool with a bit of trepidation, but quickly picked up where he left off from yesterday. We still focused on wall work, but today we did more underwater drills and he actually swam a few feet to get himself to the wall! I was squealing with delight and clapping and singing Sam's praises. Through his protesting, he would stop and clap for himself and then sign "more." When Dawn put Sam on his back today, he relaxed much more than yesterday and was able to float, with assistance of course.

The best part of today's swim lesson was when Sam and I were back in the locker room. I had changed him into a dry diaper and warm clothes when he turned and gave me the biggest hug he has ever given me. This wasn't just a casual hug. This was a wrap-his-arms-around-my-neck-and-squeeze hug. He didn't let go right away. He stood and hugged me tight as I sat cross-legged on the floor of the locker room. I rubbed his back and thought to myself, "THIS is what being a Mom is all about." I could feel Sam communicating to me, "I love you, Mommy." And in my firm squeeze back, I was saying, "I love you too, Sam."

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Swim Lesson #1

Happy Sam before the lesson.

Today was the first day of Sam's swim lessons. He is enrolled in the Safe Start program through the YMCA which is affiliated with ISR. He goes 10 minutes a day, 5 days a week for 6 weeks. This is a swim survival course that teaches babies to swim to safety should they fall in a pool or lake. If they can't reach the side, they learn how to roll on their back to catch their breath, and then roll back over and swim to the side.

I had heard horror stories of the ISR technique. Unknowing parents told of children being "thrown in the water while they scream and flail" for weeks on end. I had done hours of research on the swim survival technique that was right for us and decided that I'd put the rumors to rest and give it a try ourselves.

Rob came to the pool today to witness Sam's first lesson. Sam's instructor, Ms. Dawn, coached us on being supportive, happy-faced and encouraging while Sam was in the water. She gently eased him in the water and held him for a few minutes to earn his trust. He cried as soon as we handed him over, mostly from stranger anxiety and not because of tortouous swim techniques I had heard about. Today the focus was getting Sam used to holding himself on the side of the pool with both hands and without support. Dawn also put Sam under water a few times, teaching him how to hold his breath and search for the side himself. He did great! He did cry the entire lesson, but he swallowed much less air and water than we anticipated! Rob and I feel great about these lessons and I look forward to a summer of swimming with my confident toddler!

Bird is the word. And car, and banana...

Sam has really taken off with the speaking recently. Rob and I compiled a mental list of all of the words he has said and I thought I better document it now before the list becomes too long and I use up all the space on the Internet chronicling my sons vast vocabulary.

Sam's current word list:
  1. Hello
  2. bye bye
  3. car
  4. cat
  5. dog
  6. banana
  7. bath
  8. night night
  9. bird
  10. ball
  11. bubbles
  12. eat
  13. sit
  14. chair
  15. shoes
  16. socks
  17. water
  18. milk
  19. go
  20. more
  21. help
  22. hat
  23. fish
  24. out
  25. down
  26. up
  27. Mama
  28. Dada
  29. Emma
  30. Nana
  31. book
  32. TV
  33. fan
  34. call (which really means "phone")
  35. gone
  36. hot
  37. cold
  38. nay nay (his name for his pacifier)
  39. no
  40. yeah (he says it Rain Man style)
  41. rock
  42. cheese
  43. please (he signs this one like a champ)
  44. uv you (I love you)
  45. ocker (locker)

These are the words I can think of at the moment. If I think of more later, I'll be sure to edit this post. I know you won't sleep tonight unless you know ALL of the words Sam can say. ;)