My peaceful place

I never feel quite as at ease as I do in a classroom. 

I am reminded of that fact today.  I am proctoring the entrance test for the private school at which I work, and even though it's only 6 hours, and even though the students work independently the whole time, I can't get enough of the atmosphere.  I know I'm not exactly teaching right now, but I'm surrounded by thinking brains and the timidity that only youth and uncertainty combined can bring.  Instructing the students on something as simple as how the test works and where the restrooms are makes me feel at home, like I belong here.

I'm starting my eighth year of teaching in the fall.  Eight and a half, if you count my student teaching in college.  I was 20 then, a mere 4 or 5 years older than my students.  They were still born in the eighties--this was a lovely fact.  We had the same basis of knowledge in terms of entertainment and basic cultural happenings.  Fast forward to now...my students this year were born in 1996 or 1997. 1997! This freaks me out a little bit.  They no longer know who OJ is. They didn't watch Full House or Friends or Seinfeld (except maybe now on Nick at Nite).  They grew up with computers and cell phones and texting.  They probably have no idea that you couldn't text on the first cell phone, or that the first ones weren't portable.  They wear eighties clothing now because they think it's in style, not realizing that neon, off the shoulder shirts, and leggings weren't invented last year.  As a teacher, you do have to shift how you relate to these students.  But I love them. 

You've probably figured out that I teach high school.  Little children scare me. Case and point: this morning, I had admissions testing for 5th and 6th graders. They drove me crazy and they didn't even speak.  They spun around in chairs, made faces at each other, and generally just annoyed me and made me nervous that they would fall off the chair. Now, if my 11th graders did this, I would simply give them my evil teacher stare and they would stop and we would move on. 

Teaching is a draining business; anyone who has taught in any capacity knows this.  I pour everything I have into teaching and at the end of the school year, I'm drained. I think, I can't do this again. I can't grade another essay or tell another student to stop talking.  Summer happens, as do days like today, where I know that my place is in the classroom. I am so at peace; just by giving one of my testers another sheet of scratch paper and seeing that shy smile, I am emboldened.  I can get up in front of a class of 16 year olds and know that I am supposed to be there.  That's my peaceful place.  And even when it doesn't seem peaceful, when they're taping themselves together or they're bleary-eyed after a late night football game, they're still my students.

Nine Weeks

In the name of trying to embrace and be truly excited about baby, I thought I'd do a weekly update.  Yes, I'm still a little nervous.  But, even if something does happen, at least I'll have a record of the happiness I experienced. So if you're in a difficult spot right now and I know many of you are, please don't feel compelled to read this.  I will still love you :)

Nine Weeks...

Size of Baby: A green olive (like almost an inch)

Total Weight Loss/Gain: up 5 pounds already.  I'm hoping I was underweight to begin with. How in the world have I gained 5 pounds?!

Maternity Clothes: nothing really. I did put on a Gap maternity shirt today (thanks Steph!) just because it was long and comfy, not to show off any bump at all.  I had to use a hairband to close my pants yesterday, but they were my skinny pants anyway.

Gender: DH thinks boy, everyone else seems to think girl. I have no feelings one way or the other.

What I miss: dirty martinis. I was watching Sex and the City last night and just kept thinking, all I really want right now is a dirty martini, with like 6 olives. The olive thing creeps me out considering that's the baby's size right now. I'd rather not equate the baby with martini olives, thank you.

Cravings: cheese, watermelon, ice cream at night. Mexican food

Symptoms:  nauseous all morning and then from about 6pm on.  Night is the worst, but no throwing up yet.  Tired. Boobs are a full A cup! (that's the best thing ever, coming from a girl who barely filled out a AA).

Best Moment of the Week: Seeing the baby on Monday.  It has arms and legs now!

Next appointment: Wednesday, July 18. Last appointment with my RE.

Hearts and Rainbows?

I haven't been very good at updating my blog lately.  I'm lacking inspiration right now, I think.  Things are progressing nicely with the pregnancy, but I still hesitate to write about it.  Why? Well...

• I have met some wonderful ladies through blogging, so many who are going through such hard times right now.  I don't want to be insensitive in writing about my happiness when so many others are suffering.
• I don't want to be all "rainbows and hearts" about things when I still remember so vividly what it's taken me to get here.  I am happy, but not the happy-go-lucky of many pregnant women who've never experienced loss.
• I'm still a Nervous Nelly.  We had our 8wk appointment today.  Everything looks good.  Dr. W. was very quick about it.  For this reason, I'm excited to go back to my OB doctor--she's a little more doting :).  Right after the appointment, I got on fbook.  One of my old acquaintances had just posted that she lost her baby at 16 wks due to a genetic abnormality.  I know that this is rare, but it still makes me think, makes me hesitant to be over-the-moon about the way things are progressing.  DH wonders why I'm still nervous.  He thinks that because my uterus is fixed and the heartbeat looks great that everything will just continue perfectly. I know better. I read the stories of women who have suffered still births and second trimester missed miscarriages. 
• The 12 week scan.  Scares me to death.  What if something's wrong with the baby?

I don't mean this to be negative or pessimistic.  I am thrilled to be pregnant.  I just wish all of the above thoughts weren't always lurking in my head.  I have faith that God never gives us more than we can handle (as I've said before).  I also know that fear is NOT from God.  So I will continue to pray for peace and the banishment of fear.  Little Baby B is our little wiggle worm and I already love him.

How you know when you read too much

I've been reading Game of  Thrones.  Admittedly, I'm only through book 2 (of 7), but I got sidetracked by fluff literature (Spring Fever) and reading In The Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson for a book club. 

I've been having some crazy, whacked-out dreams lately. I attribute this partly to the blueberry growing inside of me and partly to the ice cream I consume every night before bed (oops).  If you know me in real life, you know how out-of-character that is for me.  Jillian Michaels would shake her head if she saw me, but since Baby B, she's been relegated to the back of the closet anyway, so she can't see anything.  Anyway, the other night, I had a dream that I was in a castle, like a summer camp. Of course, because that makes logical sense.  And then I gave birth to a dragon. 

Yes, a dragon.

They pulled it out and were like, oh, it's a dragon.  And that's it.  Of course hubs wasn't there, but Dan from Gossip Girl was so of course everything was ok.  Again, very logical that he would be there.  (side note, Blake Lively was in my dream the night before.  Maybe my GG marathon was not such a good idea)  I didn't hold the dragon; I have no idea what happened to it.  The rest of the dream involved flying carpets and my dog trying to catch a ball that was being thrown by an airplane. 

I'm laughing to myself right now. Actually, I'm laughing out loud because I'm alone in my office.  Writing this dream down makes it seem even crazier than it did in my head. I realize this post has no true significance, but I hope maybe someone smiles after reading it.  All my blog friends are going through such tough times right now; I guess maybe this is the least I can do to brighten people's spirits. 

So why did I mention Game of Thrones? Because in the book, Danyrs is the Mother of Dragons, and she wants to rule.  In my dream I said, "I gave birth to a dragon; they say that the Mother of Dragons should rule the world." Oh. my. 

Happy Tuesday! Now go put your dog on a flying carpet and see if he can catch a ball.  It's quite a feat.

Show some love

I have nothing interesting to blog about, really, unless you want to hear about my awesome new blow dryer. Probably not. I see you yawning already. 

However, one of my bffs, DD, is TTC (going on 7 months of charting/OPKs) and is making her first dr. appt today.  I'm sure she could use some positive thoughts and support.  Her post today will definitely resonate with all of us out there who've been through the "it will happen," "just relax," "we got pregnant by accident!" "let's post pee sticks on fbook." and for the record, I will not post a pee stick on fbook, nor will I subscribe to B.aby G.aga so that people can see what's going on in my uterus every day.  No offense to those of you who like doing these things; they are just not my cup of tea.  I just would like to keep the contents of my uterus to myself.

The one thing that could make me happier right now would be her being pregnant.  Since we've both been TTC, this has been something we've wanted--to share this experience together.  So drop her a note, from those of us who've been or are still in the trenches of doubt, uncertainty, fear, and frustration.

Musings on 6 weeks, 4 days

I couldn't help but think about our little Malachi today, 6w4d into our new journey.  I miss him, even though he was only mine for 6w4d.  Despite how happy I was to see our Baby B today, I can't help but wonder what I would be feeling like right now, if Malachi hadn't grown his wings.  I believe that he was our messenger, our little angel whose passing meant that we found out my issues and were able to treat them.  But I still miss him. I wonder if I will ever stop missing him or remembering him.  I don't know if all the babies in the world can mend that little fissure in my heart that Malachi left, or maybe took with him, like Anne in Anne of Green Gables. 

Malachi is also the reason I am still cautiously optimisitc.  Even though Baby B looks great, little heart beating, I'm still cautiously guarding my heart.  DH asked if I would be calmer after today. Yes and no.  I'm not actively worrying about every little thing, but their is still a tug on my heart, maybe a little scar tissue from being hurt before.  When we're young, we jump into love with both feet.  We throw out "I love yous" like parade beads, and like thrown parade beads, we don't necessarily get anything in return.  And so we are heartbroken, and we move on.  We learn and though we still make mistakes in love, they're never as frivolous as the first mistakes we make.  And even when we find our mate, that scar tissue is still there, still a reminder.  Just like loss and new pregnancy. 

Every day is another day, and I am so happy to be on this new journey.  I welcome what the coming weeks bring.  I know I can't do anything to stop fate; I also have faith that God doesn't give us more than we can handle.  I will still be anxious before every appointment, especially the scans at 12 weeks, but I am happy. I am smiling.  And today, I heard the baby's heartbeat.  Today, I am pregnant.

The case of the melted meds

I am, quite simply, a very silly girl.  A little back story...

Progesterone level dropped last week--18 to 14.4 which I was told not to worry about--so Dr. W. put me on another supplement, an oral supplement to supplement the suppositories I already take 3xs a day (side note: thong panty liners are the best invention EVER).  I was worried about this, despite what Favorite Nurse said, but after calling her back, my mind was definitely put at ease.  So I am of course very diligent in taking these because I want little Baby B to get all the hormones it needs. 

Now to present time.  Summer is here in all its 100 degree glory.  I left my new meds in the back of my car for oh...7 hours yesterday.  They promptly stuck together.  The package information that I usually don't read because "stroke" as a side effect doesn't sound very pleasant informed me that I should not let this medicine be in temps past 86 degrees for more than a short period of time.  Oops. 

Pharmacy just informed me I can't use this medicine anymore.  Oops.  More money in the trashcan.  Now I'm just praying that the insurance company overrides that once-a-month thing because of my general stupidity.  And that I didn't damage Baby B with overheated progesterone pills last night and this morning. 

In other news, bawled this morning at work over textbooks. That's fun.  Oh and Baby B has another appointment on Wednesday. Fingers and toes crossed that there's a strong heartbeat.  I will be 6w4d, the exact day that Malachi left us last December. I feel like it's a paradox to both look forward to a day with so much excitement and fear.