Labor Day will have a whole different meaning this year…

Monday I had my OB appointment.

I have spent less time at the Department of Motor Vehicles.
Heck, I’ve spent less time delivering my other babies.

My day began with my children waking me up — too early. I asked them to give me a minute to wake up. A minute turned into an hour and a half. Of all of the days for my children to watch tv quietly…

I raced around, knowing that going to an OB appointment unshowered was NOT an option for me.

Somehow, I made it in time – after dropping my three other children off at a friend’s home to stay for the duration.

Little did I know that the duration would be a sweet forever.

My appointment was a 9:45. I was promptly given a medical sugar drink to test my blood sugar. That meant I had to wait an hour. I had hoped that the doctor could check me for my exam during that time. Unfortunately, I wasn’t called back to the exam room until they were drawing my blood from the sugar test.

I got into the exam room and, because I am now considered geriatric in OB years, I had to have the heart monitor belt things strapped over my belly.

Honestly, I cannot express the anxiety that those things typically evoke. I saw a picture of a lady wearing one in one of my pregnancy books, Sunday evening, and started feeling so anxious all over again. I would rather be locked in a closet with the lights out, than wear those strappy heart monitors. My husband reminds me that they are important for the baby. But I want to be able to move when I am having a raging contraction.

But I digress… they didn’t bother me this time… but I wasn’t in labor either.

When my doctor came back in, we discussed my anxiety I have been feeling about the baby coming before I can make it to the hospital. (I tried linking to my post about that, for those who need some of my labor and delivery background, but blogger is acting odd.)

We had casually mentioned inducing labor during a prior discussion on this. And I’d sort of blown that idea off. But this baby’s birth is looming and causing me some stress. So we broached the topic again.

It looks like I will be induced on September 3rd – Labor Day. This way, I can relax and not worry about dropping the baby on the side of the road on the drive over.

This makes me feel MUCH better. Though, Seamus was three weeks early, and the 3rd is just 2 weeks before my due date. (I am ever the worry-wart …)

Again, because I am a geriatric OB patient, the doctor wanted an ultrasound to make sure the baby is growing properly. But it was noon and the office was closing for lunch. So, I had to drive 20 minutes to pick up the kids and drive 20 minutes back to make it back by 1:00 in hopes of getting right into the ultrasound room.

What I didn’t anticipate was that the office personnel would not realize that the entrance door was still locked from lunch and didn’t notice it until 1:30…

kids + waiting + a mom who has had a long day at the doctors = disaster

Once in the ultrasound room, there was much crying and gnashing of teeth, as they had had enough. From the kids, not me… though I was this close to it myself.

But I did get some sweet-as-sugar pictures of our new babe. He reminded me of Abbie’s ultrasound photos.

I can’t wait to met him.

And honestly, I can’t imagine that the next 6 weeks will feel any longer than that long appointment at the doctor’s office.

The Name Game

I have always fancied myself a bit eccentric. Not (hopefully) eccentric, in the way we tend to speak of little old ladies who wear outfits with matching shirt, pants, socks, shoes, earrings, nail polish-type eccentric.

But just slightly off center.

Not, over the cliff.

The first time my mom let me go to a hairstylist by myself (8th grade), she picked me up and was in shock at my short spiky crop cut.

When I was in high school, I had plum hair. And I wore white lipstick.

I’ve said before, I wish I had had one moment of clarity when I could have had a normal photo taken of me. I suppose there are, but they also contain the awful prom dates I managed to snag. That’s an entire week of blog posts in itself.

My best friend was an Annapolis, MD prep. We always joked about how different we looked when together. Sort of like the clothing version of Jack Sprat and his wife. Me with my plumb asymmetrical hair and intense eye shadow and esprit cowboy boots with long johns under a skirt (hey, I was still a girl!) and her, with her expensive Georgetown cut and color, natural makeup, tweed skirt and cashmere sweaters.

Seriously. We couldn’t have been more opposite in the clothing department.

But we had so MUCH in common and managed to balance each other out. We always found something absolutely hysterical in any situation. When she had drama in her life, I was the rock. When I had some drama with one of my skateboarding,mohawk wearing beaus, she backed me up and helped get my feet re grounded.

One thing we spent a lot of time doing one summer, was making up names for our future children. This was when we knew we would be living in the same town, on the same street with husbands who were also best friends (this was during our moments of optimism, when we figured I would one day have to marry someone with normal hair and goals).

Of course, our names were as different as our choice in clothes.

I picked names like Celia and Padric. She chose names like Caroline.

Years later, after a stupid fallout, and fortunately, regaining our friendship, we both have had the opportunity to choose names for children. And it is still fun.

Names are fun. And they have become so fashionable in the past decade. (maybe they always were?) Actually, I should say, unusual names have become quite fashionable.

It probably started with Demi Moore naming her daughters Rumer, Scout and Tallulah.

Naming my children has been quite an adventure for Sean and I. I still love the unusual.

Somehow, by a miracle of the Lord, we both wanted Abigael as a daughter’s name. There was never any doubt. (though, I was miffed that it suddenly shot up from nowhere to the top 10 list of names, the year she was born). Boys names were harder.

We wanted traditional Gaelic names. We both have  Irish ancestry  and loved the traditional names. However, they tend to have odd, unpronounceable looking spellings. Take “Sean” as a simple example. My husband has had his name mispronounced – rhyming with “bean” – countless times.

Abigael isn’t a Gaelic name. It’s Hebrew. But the meaning was perfect (a father’s joy) and we chose to spell it with a “gael” at the end – a Gaelic spelling.

Our second born, is Quinlan. We call him Quinn. Not too difficult. Though, when he was little, people thought he was saying Ken or Kenny.

Next, is Seamus – pronounced Shea/Shay-mus. Unfortunately, we have probably doomed him to a life of a mispronounced name. I remember taking him to a checkup, telling the receptionist his name. She wrote the pronunciation out phonetically. When the nurse came out to call us back she call for Sea-mus… We knew we’d get that… but hearing it shouted across the waiting room made my skin crawl.

This baby has a name. The name is not crazy to pronounce or hard to read. But it is a traditional Gaelic name. (though, he has no middle name yet…)

I’m curious if there are any guesses on his name?

Dancing Queen

This past Saturday marked the beginning of the end of Abigael’s dance career.

All year long she has dreaded going to dance class, but she has looked forward to her recital with total excitement. Almost to the level of a holiday or birthday. Not quite… but almost.

My parents came to town to see her performance. After all, who can resist cute little girls twirling aimlessly around stage. Clueless to everything but the music in their own heads.

Friday night was rehearsal. As my southern mamaw says, it was hotter than Helen Foster’s hat band… I thought I was so prepared with my sweatshirt. Stupid me. How could I forget, that once school is out, it is impossible to guarantee that any requests will be received by the proper authority.

But the dance instructors were optimistic and assured us that the building would be plenty cooled off for the recital.

I’m tellin’ y’all – they couldn’t have been more wrong.

It was hot. It was hotter than hot. Worse yet, as we all know heat rises, and my poor family had to sit in the balcony, where it was well over 100 degrees. Abbie and I were able to sit in the cool 95 degree lower level (due to the fact that we had to go in and out of the auditorium for her performances.)

But, oooooohhhhh the cuteness… it was unbearable and thankfully, allowed me brief respites from the heat.

Abigael was in the 4th dance – her ballet. They danced to A Mother’s Prayer, by Celine Dion. That in itself is enough to send me to the floor in a heap of blubbering tears. But with my sweet girl dancing around the stage to it… Oh, how I love that girl!!

After intermission came her tap performance. The tap song was the 80’s hit “I Want Candy” (Bow Wow Wow)… Good heavens. The giggles I had to suppress…

Once it was all over, she was ready for her flowers. Every star knows that flowers follow a great performance.

I present: My Dancing Queen

Oh, the makeup…

waiting to go on stage

this is her “solo” during the ballet — each girl had to stand and do some moves

On a totally different note — I’ve been meaning to post photos from our camping trip (here) They don’t show much camping, but they show the fun we had:

click on this one to enlarge and you’ll be able to tell how much dirt Seamus was eating…

We are having…

a boy!

Yesterday, I had my first ultrasound. And not only was I shocked at the news of another boy, but also to find out that I am already 18 weeks! I’m almost halfway through this pregnancy. I had thought maybe 13 weeks… I was a bit off. My official due date is September 17th. But with my past record, it will probably be around Labor Day (so funny) Of course, I probably just jinxed it and now will have to be induced the first of October.

So Abbie and I will be the only girls. We will officially be outnumbered forever more… (this could have tied it ;-)

But we are very excited. Everything looks good – baby is healthy and no problems were seen.

We don’t have a scanner anymore (shattered glass on the scanner bed), so I can’t post the ultrasound. But I’m gonna try to take a photo of the photo to post.

In other news, Janice, at 5 Minutes for Mom, gave me the Thinking Blogger Award.

I thought people thought my brains and thinking cap had been tossed up during all of my stomach viruses!!

Thank you, Janice.

Check back for an update on who I choose. (Most people have already received it, so I want to pick those who make me think that haven’t already been picked)

Still weathering the storm

As those of you who regularly read my blog know, we have been sick sick sick for the past 14 months. (and you are probably super-tired of hearing about it too!)

This month has already been a doozy and it is only the 11th…

As you may know, it started last Wednesday night around 9:00 pm. Both Abbie and Quinn ended up vomiting. When I blogged about it, it was only 1:30 in the morning.

Turns out, it continued until 4:30 am, with poor Abbie being the last to stop.

Thursday, I thought I was in the clear.

Once again, I was wrong.

5:00 Friday morning I awoke knowing it wouldn’t be long before I was running for the pan. Sean was feeling the same way. The kids were wonderful, thank the Lord, so we were able to rest without having to be after them too. All it took was for them to see the pot by my bed for them to know what was going on. Having just experienced it themselves, I think they were more sympathetic…

They immediately got to work on some get well cards.

This was Abbie’s card to me: (with her spellings)

Dear Mom,
I hope you feel better.
I sind this note to you becus I love you.
So much & you are buthefull.
I love you more thin anayone.
Your just like a shoowting star.
Your a daisy. A sweet one to.
Your a butterfly that’s looking at a flower.
Your a dog (*my note: this may not sound so good, but coming from Abbie, who LOVES and ADORES animals, I take it as a huge compliment.)
A swam.
A butufull bird.
Someone who is sweet.
Your a toolip.
A dafadill.
A rose.
A hissing cat. (*my note: not sure I understand this one, though I certainly come across as one at times!!)
A butfull marmade.
A raindeer.
A dog ear (*my note: ????)
And a sweet sonding birdsong.

Oh, how I love cards from the heart!

But wait! The story doesn’t end there!

Easter sunday I had to stay home with Seamus, who had not thrown up, but from his diaper changes it is OBVIOUS that something is not right inside of him…

Then Sunday night, around 9:00 again, Abbie threw up again.

(I was supposed to have my doctor’s appt. and ultrasound Monday, but had to reschedule for next monday… didn’t think it would be wise to take a child with a stomach virus to an office of pregnant women…)

Still more!

Today, Quinn was not himself – not hungry, laying around… A couple of times he said he wasn’t feeling quite right, but then later would say he was fine.

I got home from work tonight to find a pot in the kid’s bathroom. Sean told me Quinn had finally “blown” around 9:00 (What is with that time!!??)

Once again, I am sitting up, listening to every moan and noise that comes from their rooms, ready to run straight in there to help wipe foreheads and mouths.

I have been drinking DanActive (an immunity strenghtening drink from Dannon), since Sunday. I am praying that it had gone into effect. I also saw that Purity Dairies has Sweet Acidophilus Milk, (acidophilus cultures are an immune strenghtening culture). I plan on picking that up too. TODAY!

I have to say that one of the amazing “side effects” to all of this, is that it seems as if the Lord may be using all of this vomit to get me through some of my anxiety (panic attacks) about throwing up. Sort of like taking a person who is afraid of heights to the top of the highest building… I am surrounded by people throwing up. I, myself, have been in the midst of it. I feel twinges of anxiety about it all, but I haven’t gone into a full-blown attack. Praise the Lord for that!

Please continue to pray for our family’s health.

Hopefully I won’t have too many more “vomit posts”…