I could look at you for hours.

When I look at the photos of C., I recognize my son in a way that I recognize no other person on earth. Part of me and part of my husband. Pure love.

What a beautiful, beautiful boy. You make me smile.

Numbers

Look at the ticker. 100 days. No more than 86, if I have my way about induction.

Touch wood that this is unnecessary information, but the Babe would have a good chance on her/his own at 26 weeks. I am old-fashioned, though, and will feel even better in two more weeks. And 4 more weeks, etc., etc.

She/he is a very obliging soul and wakes up to kick whenever I have a panic attack. You see a pregnant woman lightly slapping her belly? That's probably me waking up the Babe. Quite rude, I know, but the Momma needs to know that the panic can be shelved, at least for a couple of minutes.

If that chick from HR mentions the "Dependent information update" form to me one more time, I may have to destroy her. Yes, I have the form to fill in when the baby is born. Yes, I know my health coverage will not extend to her/him if I don't fill in the form and return it. Now... do you know that I have already had one occasion where such a form was rendered completely unnecessary?

I am coordinating a project at work that requires submissions of vital information to me from my colleagues. And there is one guy who hasn't done his work. Great. So I am the one who will look like I can't coordinate a project. Sigh.

I will be reducing the number of hours I am putting into the courses that I am taking, come November. I am already feeling quite prepared for the December examinations, and my advisor agrees. Thank God. I can't keep up this pace.

Weekend Report

We had a nice weekend. Weird weather, ranging from a blue-sky, cloudless, sunny day to snow. A blue jay found our bird feeder. My husband chased the stupid orange tabby out of our yard that keeps killing the sparrows. We rented movies and I worked on an important craft project. I finished two novels. It was homey.

We went to church on Sunday morning. I did a lot of thinking about my personal understanding of my own faith during the boring (read - too theological) sermon. I feel good about my thinking, and resolve to continue that process on a more regular basis. A continual evaluation of our spiritual existence is something we all need to do, regardless of our personal belief system. Our understanding of the world must always grow and adapt to accept and incorporate our daily experiences, no?

So my weekend reviews - books and movies.

On Beauty by Zadie Smith

I really did enjoy this book. If you have ever graced the hallowed halls of academia, you would probably find much to think about in the narrative. I especially liked the theme that dealt with liberalism vs. Conservatism. The argument was presented by one of the characters that liberals are liberal with everyone (homosexuals, minorities, immigrants, women, etc.) except for conservatives. It made me think about my personal intolerance for specific people I know with particularly conservative views. Also, the issue of race was explored in a way that made me think about my personal biases more closely. Four out of five stars from me.

London is the Best City in America by Laura Dave

Love, love, LOVED it. It took me only a few hours to read. It told the story of a young women who, after breaking off a relationship becomes completely stalled in her life. In returning to her family home for a weekend wedding, she starts to deal with this stuff. When I was finished, I did that thing where I go back and read my favourite chapters over again. A definite five out of five stars. Besides - GREAT title.

Movie: RV

Robin Williams. Too much poo poo humour at the beginning. A little dull at moments. Some fine physical comedy. Like the ending well enough. If you want, you can rent it.

Movie: Capote

I was well-informed before I started watching this that it was a character piece and not a plot-driven movie. Unfortunately, I was more in the mood for something exciting, plot-wise. Don't get me wrong, it was an excellent movie with some very fine acting. I just wasn't in the mood. A good renter, but make sure you are in the mood first.

From SHARE

A recent email from SHARE: If you watch this, you will discover the segment was more about the choice to use a surrogate than about Babyloss, but hey - something is better than nothing, right?

The response to the Today Show segment on the death of a baby was OVERWHELMING and the story broke all kinds of unprecedented records!!! NBC Today Show was concerned about losing viewership to the Mel Gibson interview with Diane Sawyer and the gap between the networks was narrowing but they won the Nielson rating by a whooping 1.5 million viewers (double their usual difference). They also had over 400,000 people view the piece online on CNBC and over 99,000 hits to the NBC website which usually averages about 17,000 hits. This was such an important story that has touched so many lives and Kathy personally received over 400 emails thanking her for starting the Jakob’s Room Project for family and friends to grieve their loss.

We understand they are going to do a follow up show !! PLEASE continue to write or call NBC, saying "thank you." Due to the response, they have reloaded the clip back up on their site as of 8:30 this evening. Yes, they are listening.

http://msnbc.msn.com/id/15227236/

Send emails to: Today@NBC.com and call: phone 212-664-4602

What the Heck?!?!?

I spent yesterday in bed with... no, not a cold. With hemorrhoids. How fun. I will spare you the gory details, but I required a day off my, well, butt to allow for the swelling to go down. Haven't had hemorrhoids? Oh, well, sorry about your luck. It seems that some people have backaches in the second trimester. I get hemorrhoids.

Today looked much brighter, with the swelling mostly gone and the ability to sit restored. Then I had breakfast. Perhaps I can blame my new prenatal supplement - I threw up. Then I had breakfast and another vitamin. Then I threw up.

Oh, I am a real joy.

All I can say is that I am glad it is cold season. When I phone in sick, I let me voice be a little more creaky than normal and the guy on the other end says "ooo, you sound sick." And I don't have to explain the mechanics of trying to elevate your butt while negotiating a 24 week tummy. Or explain that the puking is not normal, yet also not really worrisome.

I bet you wanted to know all that, didn't you??

So, anyways, for fellow sufferers, you must get one of these. It is less obvious than the rubber donut and works just as well (if not better).


And while my husband was at the store, he got one of these.



And I like 'em both.

Another lost soul

Please take a moment to offer Emma's Mum some support - she and her husband could definately use it right now.

Hello

So this is my plan:

• read blogs no more than once a day
• write posts no more than once every other day and no less than once a week
• limit my internet time (emailing, etc.)

I need to make space for life in my life. I need to telephone friends and work on my craft projects. I need to read my way through your book recommendations for me. And I need to find this time outside of the time that is already occupied by work and the two courses that I am taking. And husband time. And watching my favourite TV shows on tape (so I can ffwd the commercials and not get sucked in by some crappy other show that I don't want to watch).

Thank you for missing me, by the way. That is a pretty cool feeling.

So, book review time. No computer on the weekend meant that I read a book:

The Wonder Spot - Melissa Bank

I really liked it. It had a good narrative and an interesting (but not too screwed up) main character. I would recommend as a 4 out of 5 star read. Go to Amazon to read a synopsis. I may check out Melissa Bank's other novel when I am further on in my list.

Thanks to Julian's Mom for that one.

Okay. Time's up. Done blogging for the day. All's well with the Babe, though I think s/he may have turned rightside up in the night? There was a whole lot of movement in there. I am hoping s/he is still head down.

I shouldn't touch things...

I started messing around with the template and settings and now have misplaced my archives, etc. So, some moment when I have some time, I will fix that up.

Also, I think it would be good for me to get away from blogging for a while. It isn't helping me sort out my problems the way I had hoped. So I am deciding to take a little break. I need to try and devote more time to other aspects of my life.

I will likely check in as soon as I have some spare time. In the meantime, head over to www.october15th.com and check out the planned activities for Sunday!

Canadian Football League Day of Reckoning (and other Thanksgiving News)

Today is a big football day. Canadian football. Which is related to American football, not European football. And also related to rugby. As usual, my favourite team is doing nothing but stinking up the field.

I will be napping soon. We had a very successful family visit, with no discomfort or unpleasantness. But I am very tired. And I hours and hours of coursework to do for the classes I am taking, plus overtime work to take care of before tomorrow. Nap first.

I am proud of how I handled all of the pregnancy-related questions that I had to deal with. I answered them. I didn't get upset. Hooray for me.

The Babe was performing tricks. Bouncing little feet against the top of my belly. And the ultrasound photos that were given to us two weeks ago were a big hit.

Near the end of the visit, one of my family members told me of two of my third cousin's current pregnancies. Cousin A has just learned that her baby has an omphalocele and now must make a decision of how to continue her prenatal care, whether she will terminate (highly unlikely), where to deliver, etc. Cousin B has learned that her life-long liver disfunction could easily lead to a terminal heart condition in her developing baby.

I don't know how to feel about this. I guess I am just not surprised. And I am sad about that. I am sad that I am a person who has learned to expect the worst and am surprised when I learn that a baby has lived. I have to admit that I don't feel sad or worried, etc. etc. I just sort of feel like more dead babies are inevitable.

Dealing with my own anxieties - I had a weekend of slightly scary moments. I had horrible intestinal distress at 5 a.m. yesterday morning, making me worry about preterm labour (again - I have no history of this...why am I so crazy about it?). My Doppler saved my sanity until it was time for the Babe to get up and get moving.

Then I survived my first set of fetal hiccups. Fetal hiccups lasting longer than 10 minutes, occurring regularly (like daily) are a sign of cord compression. C. had hiccups constantly in those last weeks. The Babe started at about midnight last night. I lay there in bed, holding still. Making sure I could feel that rhythmic, light movement. Watching the clock. 6 minutes. Safe. Normal. Don't panic.

23 weeks is when the neurons that control the hiccups are developing. So I need to expect that Babe will be hiccupping more in the next few weeks. I will be the neurotic woman in the corner, holding the stopwatch.

The forest for the trees.

We are mere moments away from the Thanksgiving long weekend. Hooray for Monday off. Which, for me, means a wedding to attend and a family to feed. Which I am okay with - the last wedding of the season and the family that I can deal with (well, mostly).

I phoned to verify weekend details with one of my family members, PG. When we were discussing the upcoming wedding, PG asked if I had given any thought to who the other guests may be. How empathetic, I think to myself, that he would realize that going to weddings with people that I haven't seen since I was 7 is something that might be uncomfortable for me. That it is incredibly likely that someone who doesn't know our story (or worse, someone who does) will stick their foot in their mouth.

PG then goes on to point out that JF will be there, and reminds me that JF's father was killed in a horrible accident less than a year ago. So I should give some thought to what I intend to say to JF, you know, so I don't say something that I regret.

Um....Hello???? I can't tell you have disappointed I was in PG, that he wasn't able to see the implications of what he was saying to me. First, what on earth would I ever say to JF that would be so bad? Is she going to give any thought to how I might feel when she walks in with her 3 month old (doubt it)? Secondly, does anyone leave home and think "Oh, delphi might be there. I should remember not to gush about my new granddaughter and how everyone should have babies in their families" (um, that would be a resounding NO)? Did he imagine that I might say "so, how's life without the old man - I am so jealous!" (which is a variation on the "it must be nice to not have to chase after kids" that I get all the time)?

I think it is obvious that PG is nervous about seeing JF and is projecting that nervousness on to me. If anything, JF having a dead father helps me deal with (in my weird and sick way) the fact that she has a living infant. Puts us on an even playing field, in that sick way that my damaged psyche requires.

The thing that kills me is this: I deal with inappropriate comments on almost a DAILY basis. On the odd occasion where I have lamented this fact to PG, he has reminded me that I shouldn't take it to heart and that people mean well. Now he is warning me not to say those idiotic things to a bereaved daughter.... Seriously?

I can't really be angry with PG for this. I am just hurt that he doesn't understand me better - he is one of the people that I turn to when the chips are down. When he totally misses the point like this, it hurts me in a way that is hard to express.

I wish I had the courage and the opportunity to sit him down and explain it to him. More to the point, I wish I didn't have to.

-----

More related to looking forward to the weekend - I almost forgot to thaw the turkey. It is about 12 lbs and will have 2.5 days to thaw in the fridge... I have never thawed a turkey before, so I hope that my Betty Crocker cookbook is right with the time. Or it may be a helping of salmonella for my Thanksgiving guests. Yummmm - with a side of cranberry sauce.

P.S. I think we should ban the Rolling Stones from ever touring Canada again. The Rolling Stones Report on the daily news has been driving me nuts every since they landed in Halifax a couple of weeks ago. They are icons, I get it. I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!!!!

Happy Turkey, everyone!

Time to wake up.

I have spent a lot of time in the past couple of days again reviewing the literature related to cord accidents. I have been in touch with Dr. Collins (thanks for the push, Catherine) and I am feeling relatively confidant that I am as educated as I can be.

Next step - continue to educate my doctor (aside: I sure hope that she knows I trust her, even though I bring her volumes of Case Studies and am constantly quoting Dr. Collins).

Final step - come to the realization that, no matter how much research I do into cord accidents, there is no way to bring C. back to life. My brain understands, but my heart doesn't.

Nothing is going to bring him back.

The Prenatal Report - 22.5w

Monthly prenatal appointment today:

• Babe is right on for size based on last week's ultrasound
• My doctor is totally on board for the monitoring protocol
• I gained a perfect 5.25 lbs (I was fearing 8... OK, 4 would have been better)
• Fundal height measured a bit big (remind me how that is nothing to worry about...)
• Lovely little heartbeat, right in range

So there you have it. 22 weeks down. Let's not discuss how many to go.

Took the words right out of my fingers...

deadbabymama just wrote the rant I hadn't had a chance to write yet.

Exactly.

Just what we need, another deranged act of violence blamed on the insane dead-baby parents. Because that's what we all do after our babies die - go out and murder 5 (and counting...) second-through-sixth grade Amish girls.


P.S. Why does the media pronounce "dead baby" in terms that explains why a deranged man would kill innocent girls (you know, so he wouldn't have to molest them)? And why do people who accept that as an explaination find it odd that I don't care to be around pregnant people?

In my world, the math would work like this:
killing people = bad. very, very bad
avoiding people that make you feel sad = understandable

In the rest of the world:
killing people = understandable, he has a dead kid, afterall
avoiding people that make you feel sad = you shouldn't let it bother you, you aren't a very good person if you can't get past such a small detail, are you?

Huh?? Huh??

And today I feel loved.

Thanks to everyone for the very kind comments and emails. If I can figure out a way around the security software on my computer, I will attempt to join the world of Yahoo instant messaging. And, hopefully, eliminate the need for chatrooms in my life.

With a day's perspective, I have to say that the whole rant was built upon the foundation of an unmet need for instant gratification. There are several amazing women out in cyberspace that I could have emailed for support, or I could have blogged about what I was feeling. But I was in the mood for instant contact with the world of pregnancy-after-loss and, frankly, it is a pretty small world. Perhaps it isn't a world where 24-7 contact is available to those who want it.

Regardless, I have survived the disappointment quite well. And had a lovely weekend with my husband doing nothing special. It's just that I have been enjoying our time together so much. It is possible to be a little bored with a person when you have spent the better part of 8 years together. I have noticed in the last months that I am most certainly not bored, which is a lovely feeling. There is one thing going for me - my husband is the most interesting and enjoyable person I know. Good thing I married him.

I spent another few hours in the nursery tonight. I realized, now that we have purchased several gender-specific outfits, that the nursery closet would be a dead giveaway to anyone who opened the door. So I spent time moving all the gender-specific clothing to the back of the closet and hanging all of the whites and yellows at the front. And hanging the wrong-gender outfit that we have at the front, as a decoy. There are snoopy people in our family, so I have to think this way.

I am also spending time planning for Thanksgiving, coming this weekend. I am hosting our immediate families for the first time. It isn't really a big deal or anything. I am just trying to plan in advance due to the fact that I am tired most of the time. Our meal will be Sunday, so I will bake the pies on Friday and prepare the mashed potatoes and turnips on Saturday. My tiny kitchen does not lend itself to having a lot of activity all at once, so doing a little advanced cooking (and thus washing the dishes from said cooking in advance) will save a lot of hassle come Dinner Day.

I am not really sure why I am so keyed up for Dinner. I think it just comes down to the fact that I like to host things. It's fun. I am sort of looking forward to seeing our immediate family members. Then I remember that these people are the people who annoy me the most. Not necessarily all the time, but when they get down to the business of irritating me, they do it better than most. So I guess all I can do is hope for a not-annoying time.

In pregnancy news, the Babe is getting to be more active all the time. Which gives me ample opportunity to freak out when the activity stops. This morning, for example. Babe is usually pretty good about getting kicky when I start to roll around and wake up in the morning. Not so this morning. After a nice, sugary breakfast of Eggos with maple syrup, orange juice, and a banana, there was quite a bit of action. But enough time elapsed between my waking and Babe's aerobics that I went to that place in my head... where I was picking out a casket spray and making lists of everything that I would need to do to arrange bereavement leaves for my husband and me. My brain can be an ugly place to inhabit at moments.

A couple of times I have, in my mental dialogue with the Babe, referred to him/her by C's name. Normal, I suppose. My mom usually calls me by one of my siblings' names (if not all of them) before eventually getting to mine. But when the child in question is dead, it leaves you with a really horrified feeling.

And those are the fragments of my brain today.