Snow Talk

We got to enjoy the snow a bit this weekend before it turned to an icy, icky mess. Last year Spencer really wanted nothing to do with the snow. He humored me and went for a walk, but he wasn't liking it one bit. This year, I had to drag him inside before his gloveless (his choice, not mine) hands fell off.

We didn't really play in the snow, as much as we talked about it. I captured a little bit of it below. Let me translate for you in case you don't speak toddler-ease… He says the snow is cold, that snow is like sand (my boy is so smart – making similes at age 2!), that it's raining (it's not, but he hasn't caught on that snow is both a verb and a noun yet – any day now), and he pretends to eat the snow.

Let it snow

The snow is coming down in buckets and I'm sitting on the couch still in  my PJs drinking hot chocolate and eating cookies. Heaven!

This week has been a trial. Spence got sick on Sunday with a stomach flu and is just now getting better. I've been sick too – I'm not sure if I have a mild case of the flu too or if morning sickness has returned. It's been a looong week, but I'm happy to be able to start the final countdown to Christmas, time off, and some relaxation.

In the meantime, I'm going to savor the winter wonderland developing outside and try to feel the vacation vibes a little bit early.

Homeward bound

I'm still kind of feeling better. Though the nausea won't quite hit the road. I still have a few hours a day when I feel pretty horrible. But, a few hours a day is WAY better than ALL day, so I'll take it.

And I'm managing to distract myself from pregnancy woes by obsessing about other things – like how I'm going to actually bring this baby into the world. Even before I got pregnant, I started focusing on things about my last labor that didn't really sit well with me. There was the hellish drive to the hospital, the doctors who wouldn't allow me to do things that my MIA doctor had assured me would be ok, the nurses who couldn't get the IV in my arm, and the nurses whose idea of helping me breastfeed was to smoosh Spencer's face roughly on my boob. But, despite these unpleasantries, at the end of the experience, I was fine and had a healthy baby, so I shouldn't really complain – right?

Right. But, then I started noticing articles, documentaries, and books about non-hospital births.  I started hearing about how hospitals and OBs often make decisions based on convenience and avoiding lawsuits instead of what's actually best for the mother. And I started to seriously consider a home birth.

My biggest hang up about the home birth is its perception. About what friends and family will say when I tell them what I'm planning. (Hi Mom!) And I understand why they will have the reaction they will – home birth is still perceived as being this hippy, crystal gazing, alternative voodoo. And unless you seek out the real statistics, you're going to assume that it's somehow less safe than being in a hospital surrounded by doctors and medical equipment.

But, I've done my research and am perfectly comfortable with the safety aspect of home birth. And for the first time, I'm EXCITED about birth instead of feeling a sense of anxiety. I met with a midwife this morning and really liked her, so I'm going to make the transition after my next OB appointment in a couple of weeks. YAY!

Please don’t let this post jinx me…

I feel better today. Not quite back to normal, but much, much better. I had energy to clean (so very much needed), get a Christmas tree, eat apple cider donuts (ok, that wasn't any different, but had to note it since they're so yummy), decorate the tree, drink eggnog (again, noted for the yummy factor only) hang garland, deal with my cheapass landlord who didn't want to pay to fix our broken sinks (yes, plural), AND take a prenatal yoga class. Phew! I went a little crazy, but it felt so good not to feel sooo sick. I hope things continue in this direction!

Blame it on the hormones

I don't think it'd be abnormal or unusual to confess to being worried about the state of the world right now. There's the crappy economy, the terrorist attack in Mumbai, the threat of a nuclear or biological attack in the next 5 years, etc. etc. Turn on the news and pick something, anything to start worrying about.

But, I fear pregnancy has elevated my fear level. I haven't been sleeping well. I fall right asleep at night then I wake up at 3am and can't fall back to sleep. I try reading or watching mindless drivel on the TV (aka The Hills), but I can't get back to my zzz's. Some nights I worry about specific things like whether we're dumb for buying an apartment right now and what would happen if one of us lost our job. Or whether it's dangerous to live in NYC with all this terrorist talk and if I should be stockpiling canned goods and buying gas masks for our family.

In the daylight, the fears receed. I go about my day and do the things I'm required to do, but the worry is there in the back of my mind and the bile is there at the bottom of my throat (sorry if TMI).  I don't know if its the hormones elevating my anxiety. Or, maybe it's the weariness of being sick for 6 straight weeks that just taken me to the edge of crazy. I just know that I'm tired, really tired and want to have a restful night with no fear. No fear of the world I'm going to raise my kids in. No fear of my family's security. And no fear of running to the bathroom sick. Maybe I should send all this in letter to Santa – he can fix it right?