Sunday, September 25, 2011

Belly button blues

Summer was recently looking through photos of her newborn self when she noticed a partial umbilical cord dangling from her belly. She was fascinated as we explained how babies cannot eat in utero and thus received nourishment from this direct link with their mothers. With pride, I told Summer how when she was born I cut her umbilical cord. Her reaction was unexpected. She burst into tears and became hysterical. After calming down a bit, she sobbed:

I don't want my baby brother to be cut!!

Sweet, tender-hearted Summer is already looking after her unborn sibling (with no evidence to support her claims, Summer is 100% certain that she is going to have a baby brother). 

Sunday, September 11, 2011

knocked up

so our astute readers and friends have probably already put two and two together.

emily disappearing entirely from the fabric of society has historically only meant one thing: emily is pregnant.

since mother nature has robbed me blind of my maternal right to keep little baby to myself for any significant portion of time, i decided it’s probably best to just be out with it.
i’m pregnant. i’m sick. i haven’t left the house or worn pants (or a bra) or stood entirely upright in weeks, and i probably won’t for many more weeks to come. at least once a day, i think i'm going to die. plus, my skin has turned this strange green color, and my teeth don’t get brushed nearly as often as they should. there. i said it. now everybody knows.
as this is my third pregnancy battling hyperemesis gravidarum, we finally consider ourselves experienced with the condition and have come a long way in our ability to manage the inescapable misery and endless woe (am I being dramatic enough yet?) that is HG.  now, first off, i am grateful every day that i don’t need PICC lines or stomach tubes and that i am not sick for the entirety of my pregnancy (knock on wood), but it’s still a far cry from the early pregnancy experience i’d like to have (that’s right…you know who you are).
sparing the gory details, the long and the short of a day-in-the-life is it’s pretty much like groundhog day around here.  i spend mornings up in my bed, then i move downstairs to the couch, then i move back upstairs to my bed, then i lather, rinse, sleep a bit, and repeat. and inevitably, when I wake up the next day i’m all, “what?!  no, not this again! no more sonny and cher!”
we do home urinalysis every morning  to check ketone levels in my urine and are prepared to go in for IV rehydration at the first sign of trouble.  we closely monitor my body weight (and % body weight lost), and bryan and my mom (my heroes) administer three to six suppositories a day to help me get food in and keep food down. for some reason, breyer’s mint chocolate chip ice cream stays down the best, and i spend a lot of my time eating/trying to eat that. and ice chips.
speaking of my mom administering suppositories, she has mercifully come out to live with us to take care of summer and afton (and me!), for which we can never thank her enough (and also my father for loaning us his dear companion). we learned quickly during  baby number one that our pregnancies, God willing there to be more, would be group efforts, and i owe so much to my family and friends for their support and sacrifice, especially my mother and, an all-too-often unsung hero, my husband.
when i walked into the temple that windy april morning seven years ago with bryan, i could not have imagined the poise with which he would shoulder the great burden of caring for a very sick (and grumpy) wife and two young (and energetic) children, while working his day job and cleaning and cooking and shopping and doing everything that i know you can imagine needs to be done. i picked good.
anyway, while you might not see it in my eyes or hear it in my voice for some time yet, we are thrilled to be welcoming crazy wheeler threeler to the family. i recently saw little baby: giant head, little peanut body, heart beating away, and i whispered to my new babe, "well, hello, there.  so you're what all this trouble is about. (dramatic pause) carry on, then."
we have been waiting and praying and trying for this privilege for a long time. and the moment i discovered we were expecting, i was, as i always am, overwhelmed by that purest of joys and fell to my knees and thanked the Lord. an image of myself i keep close as we wade through the dark days ahead.
emily out.

Tuesday, September 06, 2011