...aaaand we're back

Thank God, a normal night of sleep for B last night. So maybe the bad night was all just about his being overstimulated all day and then going to bed late - although if that was the case, why did he sleep so well during the event...? Well, never mind. I won't question it! 

I have been trying to ask B questions in the hope that he'll answer yeah or no - but he doesn't seem to get it. I know this might end up being a lengthy process, encouraging B to talk. Somehow I don't think our parents or grandparents ever did this. But what do I know? Maybe they did.

Despite not having the balls to pull the trigger and start the room renovation, I have been making lots of plans for B's room. I want to refinish the rusted Radio Flyer a friend gave me for Christmas and put books in it; I also impulsively bought a cheap toy chest on eBay so there's somewhere to put his "downstairs toys". I don't know if he'll even like being in that room - what if he just screams to get out?? What if he hates sleeping in there? What if I did all of this for nothing? 

Well, it won't be for nothing, because at least eventually he will like his own room. And I know that it's good for him to be out of my room whether he knows it or not. Something tells me as long as he has toys he'll be totally fine. He may even be just old enough to really enjoy a space that's all his.

There was a thread today on my WTE board of second timers having anxiety about giving birth again. I'm glad I'm not alone in this. I have this distinct memory of walking the dog heavily pregnant and thinking how much harder it would be to be going for it a second time, knowing what to expect, rather than being a first timer and being able to convince yourself that it won't be that bad, that it'll probably be quicker and easier than you think. And here I am. And I do have a great deal of anxiety about the birth as I've endlessly written about. I wish I could get zen about it and feel positive - I mean, I have no reason to think I'll have a bad experience and every reason to think it'll be quicker/easier this time. Maybe as I get closer it'll be easier to calm my mind and get a positive mantra going. Right now, though, I'm really struggling.

Here is a picture of the toy chest I bought:

Room

Today it dawned on me that B having his own room serves more than just the purpose of his having a quiet place to sleep - it can also be a safe place for him to play. Right now I have to follow him around the house for him to have free reign around here, and he tears the place apart and I have to spend ages cleaning up after him, which is utterly exhausting. We have the upstairs, but it's very limiting in that once we're up there, we're up - I can't leave him up there while I pop down to grab something to eat or go to the bathroom. It would be much more convenient to have him have a safe place to play where I can go cook, work, clean, etc. I just need to get some kind of gate so I can have the door open but he still can't get out. I am absolutely dreading the day he can no longer hang out in the playpen, and this may be the solution.

We had a rough weekend. I visited a friend on the west side for lunch on Friday and got caught in 2 1/2 hour traffic on the way home; even the radio said they'd "never seen the 110 look like this". Normally it wouldn't matter - B could catch a nap and I could zone out and take a break from parenting. But for some reason, B wasn't having it - screamed the entire way, inconsolably. By the time we got home I was exhausted and frazzled; I just held B for a long time because he was so worked up. Saturday I passed on three things I really wanted to do because I was invited to an old time dancer's house (the widow of the guy who died shortly before B was born). I wasn't sure about bringing B but in the end decided everyone would be bummed not to see him. And he did charm everyone...but boy, was it tiring! We were there for four hours and I had to just chase him around the whole time, pulling breakables out of his hands and making sure he didn't wreck anything. I was completely worn out when we got home; I shuffled him to bed at 8:30, an hour and a half after his usual bedtime, thinking "he'll sleep hard tonight!" 

...umm...no. Two hours later he woke up screaming fit to beat Jesus. He never does that, so I went in to help him lie down and sleep again; no go. I turned on the light and picked him up and rocked him; he clung to me. But still wouldn't be comforted. I gave him some Tylenol thinking maybe he was teething; he does have several teeth coming in at once right now. He eagerly sucked it down and wouldn't let go of the plastic syringe, so I let him keep chewing on that, and gave him his toothbrush also to munch on. I got him to go back to sleep at that point...only to have him wake up several more times. I finally just had to let him cry it out - after about five minutes of screaming he settled down and slept. But it was awful - we haven't had a night like that since he was itty bitty. And now I'm wondering how many more nights are going to be like that...is tonight going to be like that? And what, exactly, is the problem? Is he in physical pain? Is he just having some kind of sleep regression and I need to stick to my guns and insist he go back to sleep? It's agonizing making that call. Several times last night I wondered if he should be taken to the ER. Oh, it's just awful.

It's not surprising that these days I loll around in bed as long as I can - I just can't get up the energy to start the day. It's the only time I have a moment to myself where I don't have to be "on". I'm just so tired all the time and have so many things hanging over my head - still no resolution on my hotel bill, now my Internet isn't working and I can't figure out how to fix it and I can't use my computer to get any work done, and I'm facing weeks of my house being a construction zone. I know these problems are minuscule compared to what some people are enduring right now, but I just feel exhausted and overwhelmed.

Tests and evaluations

Yesterday was B's 18 month checkup. As always they had me fill out a lengthy questionnaire before the appointment, and as always I found myself lying on a few questions in order to look like a more responsible parent than I actually am. When he was littler I would lie about co-sleeping, knowing it was frowned upon; now I lie about little things that are related to how lazy I am in general and not concerned about germs. But I was honest when I answered "no" to his being able to use at least five words. 

Once in the doctor's office I mentioned that B is not talking. At all. Well, in the last week he has started to say, "no" and "yeah", but interchangeably; I think they're just sounds to him, he doesn't seem to know what they mean. To me that's not "talking". He does not name things, although I have at least taught him where his nose is and his belly is, and most of the time he can point these out. He presents his feet when I ask him if it's time to put his shoes on, and seems to understand quite a bit, just hasn't taken that leap to actually saying words. The pediatrician said to work with him and if things are the same in two to three months, have him evaluated. Which was pretty much what I had been thinking - I'm not too concerned at the moment, but don't want to be neglectful, either. In my heart I feel like he's working up to it and will get there - but we'll see. A lot of it might very well be his environment, ie, me. A friend of mine pointed out that since I don't live with another adult, he doesn't hear conversation very often, at least not as much as a baby who lives with two or more people. Also, I'm very much in the habit of speaking for him (as in, asking him a question and then answering it), or just not expecting him to understand or be capable of things he can probably do, like get me things when asked or put things away. I need to start treating him like a child, not a baby, and have the expectation that he is capable. So I have been asking him questions and waiting for an answer, and if he does answer yes or no, following through with that so he understands what happens when he says yes or no. I know this may sound very obvious to some of you, but for me it's just a question of breaking old habits. For so long he's just been a little baby who had to bend to my will - now we're having lunch, take this drink, put these clothes on. Now I need to start presenting choices and listening to his opinion. It's a whole new world. 

Also at the doctor's office I sheepishly admitted that no, I have not been feeding him at least two portions of red meat a week. The doctor said in that case he'd like to do a blood draw for iron levels, which I agreed to because I figured I should have that information, too, to make sure our diet isn't harming him. Well, I didn't realize just how brutal drawing blood from a toddler would be. It was that newborn heel prick thing all over again - holding down your screaming child for probably 10-15 minutes while a nurse digs mercilessly in one arm, then another, with a needle. It was awful. And as of right now I have some results but not the iron levels. I don't know how long it'll take but I'm dreading the results. More guilt headed my way I'm sure.

I took myself off the B6 and Unisom regimen a couple of nights ago to see if I could stop now. I think I might continue a little longer. I've been waking up drenched in sweat and then freezing cold to the point of teeth chattering all night both nights, and today have been pretty nauseated. Back on the drugs. 

I'm so pleased I don't have another Kaiser appointment until end of October. I can't shake the feeling that these are the salad days - those weeks pre-week 20, before all the problems start happening. The gestational diabetes, the swelling, the protein in the urine, the searing heartburn, the insomnia, the general discomfort and incapacity. I keep thinking of Bed Rest friend who was under the impression that she was having the perfect, healthy pregnancy until her 20 week check up where they discovered he cervix had shortened dramatically and she was then and there put on hospital bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy. Things can turn on a dime like that so easily. As with everything you just have to cross your fingers and hope it doesn't happen to you. I'm somewhat bolstered by the fact that at sixteen weeks everything still looks good for me...but they did last time, too, so that kind of means nothing. Ugh. 

In other news, Mom Guru gave me several numbers for doulas. I'm excited to get to interviewing some of these ladies. I think settling on one will do a lot to ease my general anxiety.

First second tri check up

I had my (almost) sixteen week appointment today. It was very in and out, no fuss, no muss. Weight, pee, blood pressure, Doppler, ultrasound. Did my final blood draw for the NT scan. The only useful bit was I asked if I would be required to do those pesky NSTs at the end of the pregnancy even if I was having no problems - and the midwife said yes, most likely. Due to my age, of course. This kind of bums me out, considering the expense ($40 a pop) and possibly having to find something to do with B, which will be even more expensive. So I'm back to that odd place of being kind of grateful that we get such extensive care in this country (the rate of ultrasounds and any monitoring in other countries is very low, I've anecdotally noticed), and being resentful of all the hassle and expense which is almost entirely over nothing. No protein in my urine today, hooray! Was there any this early last time...? I seem to remember that being largely a third trimester issue.

I am cooking dinner for potentially eight of my book club gals tomorrow. I'm making this black bean/tortilla casserole that I've made before (it's relatively easy and a sure crowd pleaser, as most things involving tortillas and cheese tend to be), trying my hand at a sweet corn cake as a side, and making my favorite blackberry upside down cake for "afters". The sheer volume of food for that amount of people is mind blowing - how on earth do large families cope? More importantly, how do they pay for it???

B is now in the habit of saying "yeah" and "no" and "ow" indiscriminately - although he seems to grasp that no and ow are for times when he's not happy about something, most of the time I think he just likes how the words feel; the meaning is incidental. I still long for the day when we can actually communicate - although then I guess I have to cope with opinions, such as "you look ugly today." Most friends of mine with older kids tend to glaze over when I say I can't wait for him to talk - "believe me, you can wait," they say, picking dried food off their shirts. 

Thinking about my house being a construction zone for much of October fills me with dread. As does adding to my already considerable debt. But again and again I come back to the fact that B must have his own room, and trying to do this with a new baby in the house would be insane. So, it begins.

Signing off

Today I did The Thing that I've thought about for ages, and that gave me quite a bit of unrest. I got the bill for the next three months of sperm storage and instead of writing out a check, ticked the box that says I no longer wish to store these vials and instead am releasing them back to the facility. I tried to take a picture of this, but it didn't come out looking like anything, so no memorial of this moment!

My dream was to be able to sign off on the remaining vial(s) while having a healthy pregnancy under my belt, and I have achieved this dream. And that's something to sit with for a minute, right there. I could have given them up after coming to the conclusion that one child was best for me. I could have given them up, heartbroken, after a loss, thinking I wouldn't want to try again. I could have had to make this decision months ago when the pregnancy was so new anything could have happened. But no. I get to sign off happily and with no reservations, with a solid pregnancy. Naturally the old fatalist in me thinks, "now this is when something will go wrong," but I'm going to chase those thoughts away, because whether something goes wrong now or not, it certainly won't be because I signed my name to a piece of paper today. 

In other news, we're having sleep problems and food problems. It may be related to MY general laziness and crappy post-event schedule, but B rarely wants to eat lunch; I can't seem to find anything he doesn't want to just play with. Dinners have been hard, too...until tonight, when I made him his favorite curry which he gobbled up. He's woken about three nights since the event crying hysterically; I tried to pull him into my bed last night but he almost took a header off the side so I put him back in the pack-n-play, which resulted in more crying, but just for a couple of minutes. I think if this happens again I'll try to just comfort him while keeping him in the p-n-p; it's safer. He is cutting lots of teeth all at once right now so he's probably pretty uncomfortable, poor thing.

I had my handyman over for an estimate on building a room for B; it came in right where I thought. It could take up to three weeks(!) which doesn't thrill me, but again reminds me why I must do this now rather than wait until a) I'm bigger and feel like crap, or b) have a screaming newborn. As much as I'd love to wait I feel like I must do this now. It really is the only good time, and B definitely has to have his own room at some point. Honestly the thought of not having him at arm's length gives me tremendous anxiety - the very idea of him sleeping in an entirely different room! It's going to be an adjustment for both of us. But it's an important rite of passage so I need to just bite the bullet and do it. It will be the best thing, in the long run. 

Appointment tomorrow, plus second blood draw for the NT scan. It's been twelve days since the first draw; they said if there were any concerns I would have heard within eight to ten business days. Could it be I've survived the next of the hurdles - the genetic testing? Next up - third trimester, and all the fun things that start developing there, and of course, The Birth. I've had a lot of fears lately, probably because I've been watching Call the Midwife. Luckily I finished season two last night so I can put all of that aside for a little while. No need to get all worked up now - there's plenty of time to get worked up later-!

Weekend wrap up

It was an odd one. It started with a bizarre encounter with a very disturbed young man at my favorite Silverlake park. He was a slight teenager who was loitering around suspiciously, who I had noticed was watching a girl work out a little too closely. It's funny, whenever I have a weird episode with someone on the street, I always notice them being inappropriate before they even get to me. I remember as a kid my mother pulling me away from a man at the beach in a flesh colored Speedo standing in the waves, saying, "that man looks like he's about to do something unpleasant." So this kid makes a bee line for me, where I am sitting in the grass next to my stroller a good distance away from Bumpus who is wandering near some bushes.

"Do you have the time?" he asked.

"Ummm...twelve thirty," I responded.

"Is that your son?"

"Yes."

"What's your name?" that man is about to do something unpleasant...

"Hilary."

"My name's Mike," and he leans in way too close and kisses my hand. I dart up and say, "well, time to go!" and immediately shove the stroller over to where B is and don't leave his side again. Ugh! Creeps! Talk about rapist-in-training. The guy lingers around for a bit looking for another woman to harass and I keep my eyes glued to him, until he leaves the park. It kind of makes me not want to go there anymore, even though there were plenty of people around and nothing could have happened to me. The paranoiac in me wonders if he followed me home. And now my Internet has crapped out which leaves me with the side effect of no burglar alarm tonight. Sleep tight!

In other news, went to a very kid-friendly baby shower today, in which a gaggle of toddlers, babies, and kids laid ruin to this nice family's house. Oh, the mouthed toys, the crumbs smashed into carpets, the shoes on couches - the horror! It makes me sad that I am too uptight to probably ever be able to have large groups of kids over at this house...but this also means I get to enjoy an adult home with nice things in it and don't have to live in a padded romper room like most of my friends. Of course, I say that now.

Took B into the bouncy house. He found it horrifying. He clung to me until I convinced him it was ok to give it a little bounce. I can see how scary this must be to one who's just getting his bearings on hard ground and now we've gone and changed all the rules on him. Later I observed an older girl ripping chalk out of his hands and pushing him away from toys she was playing with. Sigh. I'm kind of accepting that this is a big part of having kids - watching other, bigger kids be mean to your kid, and just having to deal with it. On the bright side, he didn't seem to care. He was more interested in kicking the soccer ball around. He is 1/4 Brazilian after all.

15 weeks

I've been a bit chastened by the news of a fellow blogger losing her twin boys at 20 weeks, a few years (and a lot of struggles) after losing a baby boy at the same point in the pregnancy. I could say how lucky I feel to have a healthy child and another on the way - and I do. I never take either of them for granted, believe me. But it doesn't feel right to say that right now, so I will just say what we all know is true - that life totally sucks sometimes, and some people just can't seem to catch a fucking break. And I hate it and it's so unfair. And one of the main disadvantages of being an atheist at times like this is there's no comfort - all you can do is offer condolences to the person suffering and try to chase away fears that you might have that experience, too. Sometimes faith in a bigger plan or some kind of reward after we die would feel really good, you know? Reality is a bitch. 

So, on that upbeat note, I was asked to post my pickle recipe. I'm a little reluctant to because I tried one a few nights ago and they're not that great. I think I overcooked them. They are very limp and not crunchy and taste kind of "old", like that last pickle swimming in questionable liquid at the back of your grandmother's fridge. Perhaps if I didn't do the hot water bath at all and just let them soak in the brine, or did it a few minutes less. I'll figure it out. 

In other news, I couldn't be more relieved that our heat wave is over. I used to love the heat...but now it's just a huge pain in the ass. It means hot, cranky kid, limited options as far as activities, and hundreds in A/C bills. Personally I'm psyched to get started with the festive season - fires in the fireplace, baking, Halloween, soups for lunch, Christmas decorating. 

I feel decent. I may even be experiencing some early flutters - that sudden "kick" feeling that is nothing like digestive movement. That was always my favorite thing about pregnancy, the movement part. Still checking the heartbeat every day. It's easy to find at this stage. I am eager to make a big announcement but still need to wait until I can tell my bandleader & his wife, and I won't see them for two more weeks - and then it's just ten days until the gender scan, so I may just wait until I have all of the information. It will be fun to announce the baby by name, you know?