BumpDate: 14 weeks

So, here we are... 14 weeks, officially entering into the second trimester.  We announced earlier this week, once I had notified my parents this past weekend, my brother's family and my best friend/honorary sister.  Then the photo from the previous post was posted to FaceBook.  I got three calls from my family within 10 minutes of each other.  So I had proceeded to shock those who had no idea.

That's the nice thing about living far away from family.  You can hide your stomach as much as you need while video-chatting or only posting photos of yourself where you don't look pregnant.  But that's probably the only nice thing.  I have one person left to notify before the entire cat is out of the bag -- the doctor that I work with.  I have plans on notifying him this afternoon.  If anyone hears a huge explosion at some point this afternoon, it's his head 'sploding from his mind being blown by having his only two coordinators being pregnant at the same time.  Honestly, I don't know how he doesn't know.  This stomach isn't in hiding -- if he seriously doesn't know, he must think that I'm a fat cow.

Being that I've entered into the second trimester, I'm waiting for my first trimester symptoms to go away.  I'm over the nauseous, like seriously OVER IT.  I want to enter into the trimester where I don't just want toast for dinner or don't even want to cook dinner for The Lady because I can't stand the thought of having to eat whatever it is that I'm making for her.

Over the weekend, we also found out that it's a boy.  The Scientist is, of course, over the moon.  I am still trying to pinch myself in hopes of waking up from a bad dream.  I didn't want a boy, but I didn't think I would be this disappointed about hearing the news that it was a boy.  I had just dreams about two girls, sisters, and all the great things that we would do together.  But as is the saying of my life... "You can't always get what you want -- but if you try sometimes, you just might find that you get what you need."  I have no doubt that once I meet little "Fish & Chips" that I'm going to love him over and over and over.  I think that most of my disappointment right now is grieving the other daughter that I'll never have.

I also found out yesterday that I am CMV negative.  What is that, you ask?  It's a herpes virus and with The Scientist being a Scientist, he knows viruses -- and it's a terrible virus if you catch it while pregnant as it can cause some major birth defects in the unborn.  Apparently, because I have a hot zone of a CMV contractor in The Lady (who is the perfect age to acquire it at daycare), I am no longer allowed to kiss her (save on her head or forehead), I can't wipe her boogers with my finger (which I absolutely LOVE doing), I can't share utensils or drinking cups with her, and I have to thoroughly wash my hands after each dirty diaper (which I've been doing -- most of the times anyways).  The thing that broke my heart yesterday was the fact that I couldn't kiss her on her cheeks or lips anymore (at least until Fish & Chips arrives).  I cried quite a while over that.  Crazy hormonal pregnant lady...

Speaking of ladies, she likes to take self portraits on my phone -- although she doesn't realize that she is actually taking her photo.  I totally "heart" them.

Spreading the news...

It's a boy!

Bumpdate Alert! 13 weeks edition

Edit: Written on last Thursday

I have officially entered into my second trimester.  Wahoo!

We won't be officially spilling the beans until next week when I receive the results to my fetal genetics testing.  At that point, we will be able to release the sex of the baby along with the announcement.  Even before I got pregnant, I knew how I wanted to announce this pregnancy.  With The Lady, we didn't really announce.  The Scientist was still pretty anxious about being a new dad and the news kind of dripped out rather than releasing the floodgates (which this one will be).  With this one (hopefully) being my last one, I wanted to do it big(ger) than we did with the first.

I still feel quite icky.  In trying to reflect when I was over my morning sickness with The Lady, I want to say that it continued until about 14 weeks.  So I'm hopeful that within the next two weeks, the ickiness will fade and normalcy will return (I have forgotten what it feels like to not feel icky and tired, though I don't think the tired feelings will be going anywhere).

I have spread the news a little at work.  My co-worker who will be leaving at any moment for maternity leave was told yesterday.  She had the balls to tell me that I am showing way too early for 13 weeks, that my bump was too big for 13 weeks.  Without being crass, she is a big girl and no one could really tell she was pregnant until she was 8 months along -- so I really don't think that she should be throwing any "your-bump-is-too-big" stones my way.  I honestly don't know why she said it -- you would think that she (the pregnant lady of all people) would know better than to say "boy, you look big!"

I have yet to tell the PI (principal investigator) that I work for.  He is not my supervisor (I told her a couple of weeks ago to inquire about coverage of an upcoming OB appointment) and he is a real douche-nozzle.  So I'm waiting for one of the days where I am really despising his attitude towards me to drop the bomb on him.  My co-worker said that when she told him of her pregnancy, he didn't even congratulate her!  But he is a post for another day.

Fingers are crossed that my first trimester symptoms will go away this week!

Wet feet & the pitter-patter of raccoon's feet

Yeah, so Saturday morning at 4:30am -- THIS happened....

This is after the water had receded quite a bit.

In case you can't tell and think that we just have shiny carpet, I awoke to 6 inches of water in my basement.  So there I was -- alone with my 17 month-old, two dogs, three cats, and 6 inches of water.  To say that "last weekend was stressful" was quite the understatement.

The Scientist left for one of his annual conference on Friday afternoon.  I had a fabulous week of girl time planned, which included lots of chick-flick watching and eating.  The powers that be had other plans...
Now before I continue with my story, the one thing that I must tell you is that I get Paranoid with a capital P at nightfall whenever The Scientist is gone.  So Friday night, it begins to rain & storm around 11pm-ish. This just feeds into my paranoia.  My thoughts quickly run to how much easier it is for someone to break into my house and trap my daughter and myself upstairs to kill us with there is lots of thunder and the dogs can't hear a break-in.  By checking the radar from my iPad in the darkness of my bedroom constantly, I learn that the storm is moving due-east and my house is sitting along the storm front line.  So we are continually battered by heavy rains and heavy winds for hours.

Around 4:30, both dogs were laying in my bedroom, which makes me even more paranoid since they can't hear what's going on downstairs.  I think that I hear a car turning on gravel, which makes me think that someone has drove into my driveway.  I get out of bed to look out the window to check and notice that my front yard is engulfed in water.  The entire front yard is water.  In the four years of living here, I had never seen anything like it.  So I think to myself "Self, The Scientist isn't going to believe you unless you get photographic evidence."

I head downstairs to take my photographs from the front door and I notice Norman (one of my cats) sitting at the top of the basement stairs, just staring down.  My instant reaction was "Holy Shit!  Someone's in the basement!!!!"  I reach my arm around the corner to flip on the lights, petrified of seeing someone standing at the foot of the stairs.  As I peek around the corner, all I see is water...

To make a really long story shorter, I had 6 inches of water in my basement.  I called insurance, they are covering it to our limit (which isn't that high).  The culprit ended up being a drain that was outside the basement door that couldn't keep up with the heavy rain for so long.  Thankfully, the three drains in our basement were working and the water was completely drained out by 7:00am.  We ended up being in a catastrophe area, according to my insurance company and couldn't get an emergency claim to come out and help me clean it.  The most that I could do was put a fan downstairs and then I put a fan on the steps pointing downward to keep the musty air down.  So my basement still sits wet -- just waiting for The Scientist and my father to come and rip out the carpet.  The house is beginning to get that damp basement smell.

Last night, this happened (though the photo was taken this morning as the number were still sitting on my phone)...

Before continuing, please know that I didn't end up making the call.  But I did walk downstairs with this dialed in, just in case someone was going to jump out at me.  So the night was normal, The Lady went to bed around 8pm.  I cleaned up after she fell asleep and then laid down next to her (in my bed) to watch a little television before falling asleep.  As I'm laying in bed, watching TV, Munk suddenly jumps up off his bed and starts barking downstairs.  I quickly flip on the downstairs landing light and he, Bishop (my other old, mostly deaf dog) and I all stand silently at the top of the stairs, just waiting for another noise.  Nothing comes.  So I go back to bed and continue watching my DVR'ed show.  Another minute later, Munk again jumps up from his bed and races to the top of the stairs, furiously barking down the stairs.  Now I start wigging out.  I dial 9-1-1 on my phone and have my thumb hovering over the "call" button as I slowly descend the stairs.  Although Munk is a ferocious watch dog, he is a complete scaredy-cat -- totally letting me go down to battle with the intruder myself.  My heart is pumping a thousand miles a minute as I sneak around downstairs, inspecting each of the entryways into my home (there are three separate doors).  All turn out to be locked and no signs of a burglar.

I go back upstairs, assuming that Munk must have heard the cats running around downstairs and that's what set him off.  I climb back into bed and then I heard the thumping that Munk must have heard earlier.  I silenced the TV at least three times to better hear the thumping.  Someone was on the roof!!!!  But the more that I listened to the thumping, I realized that the pattering were too close together for it to be a human.  I ruled out coyote as they can't climb and mountain lion as there aren't any in our area.  The only thing that I think could have been making those noises were fat-ass raccoons!  We had a raccoon living in an easement a couple of years back -- but we closed it off with liquid nail and those suckers wouldn't be able to get back in.  My only thought was they were returning for their stay at Casa de Scientist and realized that we had closed up shop!

I seriously can not wait for The Scientist to come home -- only so I can get a good night's sleep.

12 and Pinball

From some reason this is my most lasting memory of Sesame Street growing up (this and the little worm dude that lives with Oscar the Grouch)

Today, we have hit it!  We are at 12 weeks today.  I know that technically I'm not out of my first trimester until next Thursday, but I'm totally counting it today.

Puppy bomb!

As you can see in the photo, there hasn't been a whole lot of change.  And I don't know if I'm mentioned the fact, but I actually lost weight while in Ireland.  And due to the fact that I'm not taking the zofran and don't feel like eating as I normally do, I have been able to maintain the same weight for the past week and a half.  I realized that it's only 3 pounds, but it makes me feel a lot less heavy (I'm sure it's all psychological).

And almost as if my body was telling me that I couldn't be counting my chickens yet, today I have had some serious morning sickness.  I thought that I was going to be physically sick at least 3 times this morning -- to the point where my spit even changed (TMI?).  Am I the only one that gets really liquid-y spit and has a slightly different taste right before they heave?  Hmmmm, weird.  I had to have The Scientist bring in the zofran for me at work.  I would have just went home sick, but I have two patients on the schedule with another phone interview to do.  My co-worker is going out on maternity leave probably next week and I'm covering her studies, so I have to make sure that I know what I'm doing here.  I took the zofran about 90 minutes ago and still feel total yuck.

And as you can see, yesterday, The Scientist and I went in for the nuchal translucency ultrasound.  We got to see the wee one for about 10 minutes while the tech was moving the wand all over my stomach.  It's too early to tell the sex of the baby by ultrasound, so we didn't find that out yesterday.  After the ultrasound, we were to discuss our options with the doctor (who happens to be working in (not for) The Scientist's lab trying to make Lenti virus -- don't ask me, I really don't know what that is either).  We went from chromosomal testing with The Lady and we wanted to do that again this time.  With The Lady, we had the nuchal translucency ultrasound, which measured a fold behind the baby's neck and in combination with some blood work, the results tell you your risk for a chromosomal abnormality.  

This time at the time of my due date I will classified as "Advanced Maternal Age" (I'll be 35), we have a new option.  Actually the new option is REALLY new to the Clinic -- 3 months new and has an efficacy rate of 99%.  With a single blood test, they are able to give us a positive on the three main chromosomal abnormalities (Downs Syndrome, Trisomy 18, and Trisomy 13).  But they are also able to tell us the sex of the baby!!!!!!!  Being that they are looking at the DNA of the fetus (something about free floating fetus DNA in my blood -- again they were speaking science jargon) when they are looking for the chromosomal abnormalities, they also have the DNA right there to look for an X or a Y.  The results come back in 10 business days.  So by the time that I reach 14 weeks, we will know for certain if it is a boy or a girl.  And the best part is that they are calling me with the results -- not The Scientist who would withhold the information or give me incorrect information just to tease me (as is his way).

The Scientist leaves tomorrow afternoon for his yearly conference.  He will be gone for 6 days, which leaves me with The Lady.  And while I'm pretty exhausted 95% of the day, she has finally left her teething stint from earlier this week behind.  That involved her waking from 2am - 4am two nights in a row and just being a complete bear in the evenings, requiring my constant attention and holding.  According to The Scientist, this morning's report was a good one.  She slept late and ate well and was overall back to her Lovely Lady self.  Yeah!!!!

11 week update (original, I know)

So, today (actually written last Thursday), I'm officially 11 weeks.  We just got back from a family trip to Ireland on Monday evening and I can't distinguish which is the weary traveler and which is the weary baby-maker.

Belly with a peeking baby & spying puppy (sounds like a Chinese entree)
PS -- talk about manly looking forearms!  I swear I'm not buff at all...

As you can see, the bump is in full progress now.  It looks really low, so I'm not sure how much is baby and how much is just bloat.  People at Lady's (my daughter) daycare have asked me if I was pregnant last week.  And someone at work almost asked me yesterday, but I cut her off.  The words came out "Are you..." and she was looking at my stomach.  So today I made a conscious effort to wear clothes that show my gut  instead of disguising (as I have been in the last couple of weeks).  My thought -- reverse psychology.  If I don't try to hide my belly, people will be less likely to ask if I'm pregnant because they will just think I'm fat.  If I wear loose clothes, people will think I'm trying to hide something.  Paranoid much?

The nausea is still there somewhat.  While in Ireland, I forgot my morning sickness medication that I was prescribed from Emery (my OB).  It was there that I realized that the medication wasn't really doing anything.  I didn't feel any worse than I did with the medication -- just that plain ole' icky feeling.  I tried to eat little bits throughout the day and it seemed to work (though The Scientist's driving always made me nauseous).  So I stopped taking the Zofran completely.  I have waves of terrible nausea, but they are fleeting and tend to leave just as quickly as they arrived.  Being that my morning sickness isn't that severe, I've already spoken to The Scientist about my thoughts on this one being a boy.  He, of course, was elated, but we won't find out for certain until mid September.

We told his family while we were in Ireland.  I was only 10 weeks, but it's only two weeks shy of the end of the first trimester.  With all his family being together (which is an abnormal occurrence), we decided to break with our own rules and spread the joyful news.  They were over-the-moon, of course.  We will be telling my parents when they come out to visit in either two or three weeks.  At that point, the cat will be out of the bag.  My mother can't keep a secret to save her life.  My last pregnancy we told them at 11 weeks, but swore them to secrecy until we were ready for the news to come out.  A month later when I let her release the news on FaceBook, I got a congratulations from an aunt who told me that she knew for quite a while and was finally happy to be able to wish me well.  This time, we are prepared for the news to be heard 'round the world once my mom finds out.

I have a nuchal translucency ultrasound next Wednesday.  It's an ultrasound that measures the folds on the back of the baby's neck to see what the risk for a chromosomal abnormality is.  There we will get a better glimpse of the wee one.

And I think that this week is going to be the end of fat-phase and by next week, I should enter into the I-look-pregnant-phase.  It appears that the baby is going to double in size this week and that my uterus is finally going to pop out over the top of my pelvic bone.  I can think back to my first pregnancy and remember that at this phase, I was still not showing in the least.  This one is just proving to me how much abdominal work I'm going to have to do after the wee one comes to get some tone back.

With the early protruding belly and the shortness of breath I experience in climbing stairs already, this pregnancy is just showing me how out of shape I really am...

I'll let Paul do all the talking...

As sweet dear Paul Anka croons...  I'm having your baby.  Okay, not exactly your baby, but the scientist's baby.  I'll let that sink in...

Today I'm officially 9 weeks.  We went in for our first appointment on Tuesday and saw the little one.  And yes, there is only one in there (I made sure to double stress the singleness of that little fetus).  Everything looks great on the inside and the eviction arrival date is set as January 30, 2014.

If you are going to ask how I'm doing, don't (it'll just lead to a short list of loud complaints).  But if you are going to ask, I've seen better days.  Morning sickness kicked in at about 6.5 weeks.  I had morning sickness with my first, but this time it's different.  With my girl, I would wake up debilitatingly sick and have to roll onto my stomach and slowly creep to the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor to gain some footing before standing up.  I would head to the bathroom, take my zofran and be perfectly fine within minutes and for the rest of the day.  For part Deux, I wake feeling nauseous but not severely so.  I go to the bathroom, take my zofran and feel better within minutes for only minutes it seems.  Most of the day, I'm teetering between feeling exhausted and feeling like someone punched me in the gut.  The best way I can describe how I feel is if you don't eat to the point where you are starving hunger and are getting nauseous -- yeah, that's where I am most days all day.  Being that it feels like a nauseous hunger striking, I have had to problems eating through it (even though I feel just as terrible after I'm done eating).

I'm also exhausted, exhausted, exhausted (that made me tired just repeating that).  With a 16 month old to chase after who has more stores of energy than the Energizer Bunny, it's not like the first time when I could just lay around and rub my bloated stomach.  I seem to be able to keep up with her, but I always sag when it comes to making dinner (which I'm going to blame on the nauseous).  That poor little girl is going to be eating pork & beans or spaghettio's for the next month (in which I enter into my second trimester and get the mythical burst of energy).

But those are my only two complaints right now.  I feel full & bloated, but not uncomfortably so.  I also feel fat. Those things I'm not going to complain about.  I guess I stopped being so self-centered and vain.

I have a cousin who announced her pregnancy to our family early and she is only two weeks ahead of me.  The fact that we got pregnant so closely together is kind of crazy if you think about it.  I'm also hopeful that my brother and sister-in-law will be announcing at some point soon.  My s-i-l and I were pregnant together fairly closely the last time (babies born within 4.5 months of each other) and I know that they are trying.  So my chubby little fingers are crossed for them...

I think that I'm going to start weekly "bump" photos.  I never did those with my first and with this (hopefully) being my last -- it's either now or forever hold your peace.

Thirsty Thursdays

No need to call DFS...  She is actually screaming and didn't drink a single drop.  But if you squint real hard, you can imagine her as a smelly bum with really bad breath...

Does anyone remember these?  Just another excuse to drink a day earlier than the weekend starts?  Very popular in college.  Fun fact:  In my freshman year in college, my parents set up a system with my bank to transfer $25 from my savings account (I worked during high school and the summer before I left for college and did something outrageous -- I saved my $$$) into my checking account that was linked to my SHAZAM card (that's what they were called before they were called debit cards).  Did you get that?!?  I lived off of $25 a week!  Now I didn't have a car or utilities to pay, but I did still go out and drink every Tuesday (80's night!), Thursday(25 cent well drinks!), Friday, AND Saturday that first semester of my freshman year.  Talk about resourceful!

Nowadays, thirsty refers to coffee and unsweetened tea.  Man, have I gotten lame.  In fact, last night I bought a big bottle of Chimay Red (my absolutely FAV) and couldn't even finish a half of the glass...  I've trading in my bar fly status for Mommy yoga pants and baby boogers!  And if I've being honest with y'all, I actually enjoy this better.  The scientist is still able to attend happy hour pretty regularly.  At the beginning, I used to be upset that he still got the social life.  Due to his late working hours and not being expected to be home before 7:00pm, he doesn't have to ask someone to come home and take care of a kid -- he just gets to go like in the old single days.  But then I realized something really powerful.

If I had to choose between sitting at a bar and drinking with co-workers or coming home and spending time with my sweet girl.  I know who wins hands down everytime.

We are having our own growing issues -- her into her role as a toddler and me into my role as mama.  But in the early pre-dawn twilight minutes that I got to rock her this morning, I realized that those 20 minutes of rocking in her room with her head resting on my chest, her bedhead hair tickling my nose.  Those are the moments that make life worth getting out of bed in the morning.  And waking for moments like that are SOOOOO much better than waking up with cotton mouth and a pounding headache.

Heeelllllooooo in there.....

Just like Charlie Brown looking for Christmas cards and there aren't any... I'm shouting out to all the people reading this post -- and there aren't many...

This is me and I'm a scientist's widow, hence the name of the blog.  Two things that you need to know about me (there will be other things later)...

• I'm not officially a widow -- my husband is still here and kicking.  But his science work tends to keep him away from home a lot longer than most normal people's careers would.  On most nights and if I'm lucky, I see him for a total of 2 hours (but it is not unusual for him to come home after we have went to bed).  We also have a 13-month-old daughter, two dogs, and three cats.  So for most nights, I'm a (sometimes) strong, independent woman who acts as a single mom and furry caretaker.
• I come from a large Midwestern family (hence the cow calendar behind me).  He comes from a small East Coast-ian family.  And we are currently living over 600 miles away from my family in a city located on a Great Lake.  So we don't have any family support here.  Most often times, I need to utilize every ounce of energy to make this work (and sometimes it doesn't work).

This blog is a place to share my sometimes-funny, sometimes-crazy but always real stories about life as a scientist's widow.