Marty's Sleep (or lack thereof)

I'm going to start Marty on a sleep routine. Not sure how to go about this. I tried laying him down a little earlier tonight at bedtime. I had to go back in three times to pick him up and cuddle, sway, rock, feed, soothe, etc. etc. etc. He fell asleep earlier than usual (7:45 instead of 8-8:30). What do I do and not do to get him proper sleep? He's not a good sleeper during the day, which I'm told could just be his style. He sleeps good at night, but I think he deserves some long naps during the day--and so do I...~*

My Sweet Son

Our son, Martin George Sultes III—‘Marty’ for short—was born on August 6th, 2009 at 4:07am. He is quickly developing a personality. He has the independence and determination of his mom and the quiet resolve and playfulness of his dad. Marty is very inquisitive and loves to explore his surroundings. Smiles alight across his face to music and he stops mid-cry to hear singing. Anyone who holds him simply melts.

There are many special things about Marty. One of those things is that he was born with an extra #21 chromosome. The long title for this is Non-disjunctional Trisomy 21, or what is better known as Down syndrome. Down syndrome is not a disease or an illness. It is an unexplainable chromosomal occurrence in about 1 in 800 babies.

God's faithfulness in preparing us for Marty began even before he became a part of our lives. The desire to work with individuals with special needs had been in my heart since high school and inspired Martin to work as a staff member at a group home in Minnesota. All throughout my pregnancy, I was in constant prayer for our son. In my heart I knew he was going to do great things. I even wrote him a letter which encouraged him to "change the world." I knew deep down he would, I just wasn’t sure how.

Fast-forward to a crisp, early August morning—Marty’s birthday. Everyone who came to visit him told us how precious he was. We couldn’t agree more. I was overwhelmed by such a powerful love for this angelic bundle. He was perfect; our “little porcelain doll.” The most beautiful baby I had ever seen was in my arms and he was mine.

Our last day in the hospital, I was restless and felt overcome with anxious thoughts. To quiet my mind in the still hours before the dawn, I turned in my Bible to a bookmarked Psalm. I let the words of my favorite passage wash over me:

How precious [concerning] me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you... (Psalm 139:17-18a)

I drank in more of the Psalm with delight. This passage of scripture has been my favorite for years, bringing me comfort and peace on countless occasions. I sensed that it was going to be Marty's life verse. I prayed for our little one and thanked God for his precious life.

Before leaving the hospital, a pediatrician came to do Marty’s last check-up. But the visit was anything but routine. She informed us that Marty had a heart murmur. She also informed us that Marty displayed physical characteristics consistent with Down syndrome and wanted to run some tests to be sure. It felt as if the room was suddenly closing in on me. Choking back tears of disbelief, I stepped away to regain my composure. The words of Psalm 139 rushed in:

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. (Psalm 139:13-16)

God’s faithfulness. "Ok, ok." I whispered, trusting that everything was indeed in God’s hands. A week later, the phone call came confirming Marty's diagnosis. Marty’s life verse, Psalm 139, looped in the background of my myriad of emotions. Fear, joy, worry, happiness, sadness, peace—a mixture of colorful cement pouring the foundation of love for our sweet child.

At first we weren’t sure what to expect but we knew we were about to embark on an amazing journey. At 14 weeks, Marty is meeting all the typical baby milestones. He is in the Early On program here in Michigan and continues to wow his teachers and family. And as for Marty’s heart, the doctors believe the problem may fix itself.

We are very proud of Marty’s accomplishments. He is a great blessing and gift. We love him beyond words and we feel very privileged to raise him. We see Marty complete in the person God made him. He is not handicapped or mentally ill; he is far from slow and he is definitely not ‘retarded.’ His life verse explains it all; Marty is fearfully and wonderfully made. We want the world to greet our son with as much enthusiasm and joy as we have. We look forward to watching how Marty will learn and grow and how we are going to learn and grow as well.

 

Learning to be a Mom

My husband gave me a sideways look in the hospital when I wasn't sure if I was feeding our son the right way. "I thought you knew how to do all this stuff." he said. I know that there are those natural "motherly instincts" that women have hard-wired into their system, but there are just some things that women turned mothers simply learn as they go--usually by trial and error. Perhaps maternity leave is the training course for such learning to occur. It's not so much R&R with the new baby as it is a chance for new moms to try, try--and try--again.

I am starting to pick up cues from my son which make me feel like Sherlock Holmes, that mastermind of mystery solving. At first when he cried, I'd go down the list. Is he fed? Is his diaper dirty? Does he have gas? Going through the list can be exhausting. I have confused his cry and spent too much time feeding only to find out he's tired or wants to suck on his soothie. By the time I figured this out, he's ready to eat.

I'm learning as I go. Someday I'll be a pro at this~*

Mom's Garden

I don't know how she does it, but it happens. For as long as I can remember, my mom has been planting and shifting, moving and sculpting new dimensions in her yard.

It's a vast, green place with lots of potential which eventually sprouts to life each spring at the hands of my mother. This yard is her ever changing canvas. I used to think she'd be content leaving it a certain way each year once she'd found the perfect spot to tame. But she'd layout and execute her latest impressive ideas the following years.

She's like her Creator in more ways than she can know. Never content to leave a work of art as is. Weeding and plucking, moving and shifting, planting and re-planting as she see fits. And it's continually more beautiful and marvelous than the former.~*

Zoo

I'm going to the zoo again today. I think I will take my camera as this is a shot from my last zoo trip a few weeks ago. Doesn't he pose nicely?~*

Garage Sale Therapy

As I have mentioned before, I am my mother's child. And this woman has instilled in me the thrill of seeking bargains. Upon entering a store, I immediately screen the back for those bright signs announcing "clearance." I don't think I've ever paid full price for anything.

I told myself I'd be done with garage sales for the season, seeing as I am moving and more to pack isn't exactly the wisest thing to do. But how can I pass up wooden toddler chairs marked two for $1? Didn't my mother raise me better than that?

Besides, going to garage sales takes my mind off the stress of moving and trying to find a house. It brings me back to nesting, preparing for my son. If this takes the form of stocking up on toys that are twice his age limit, so be it.~*

Happy (Early) Memorial Day

Saw a bunch of grilling on the morning shows earlier today. Makes me excited for summer holidays.~*

Third Tri Experiences so Far

1. Very, very tired. Tasks take more out of me than I thought they would and I just want to sleep and sleep and sleep.
2. Swollen feet and hands. Bought some Dr. Scholl's inserts to ease my aching feets. I love running cold water on my hands.
3. Dizziness. I feel like I'm going to faint even though I haven't been doing anything but sit there. Also, I see many swirly shiny dots if I sit up too fast.
4. Becoming full quicker. I can't eat as much as I used to like in the 1st and 2nd tri because the space is now limited; my stomach is a pancake and I get heartburn more often. Yay...
5. Pressure. Squatting makes me feel like I'm going to give birth, so packing is interesting.
6. Headaches. Extra strength Tylenol and the chiropractor both help with this. I love going to the chiropractor.
7. Houdini belly button. It disappars and reappears when it wants to.
8. Bursts of energy. Sends me into nesting mode.
9. Cry baby. Last week I was bawling on Monday. I'm moved to tears watching TV sometimes.
10. Anxiety. Questions: Can I really handle the stress of a screaming baby or a tantrumonius two year old? Screaming children in Babies-R-Us and Target last week made me want to grind my teeth.~*

Dahlias at Jasmine's

Apprehension

*Sigh*

Now that graduation is over, I can think of the thing that has been looming over my head all semester that I've just been trying to ignore: moving.

Before, if a thought of moving home made its way into my mind, I thought of how fun and relaxing it would be. I'd see my family more often and we wouldn't have to drive 24 hours for a holiday.

Maybe it's those pregnancy hormones fluxuating that's made me all emotional about the upcoming adjustment. So many new beginnings happening at once: I'm a college graduate about to begin a career in the field of my choice, I'm an expectant mother about to give birth to a son--two big beginnings in such a small amount of time. So many questions paw at my mind.

Those thoughts of going home have finally sunk now, sunk below the sweetness into the bitter pit of my being. I don't want to go home, because I feel like I am home...~*

Third Trimester Beginnings

I'm growing in more ways than one these days. My body's response: stretch marks.

I had none on my stomach but other aspects of my physique seemed to display those most honorable badges of motherhood unashamedly. Then today, as I was trying on my no-longer-fitting summer clothes--including a now not-so-attractive pair of lime green shorts--I saw them. Creeping up on my now underbelly, those dreaded marks had made their way from my thighs and hips to my torso. And this is only the beginning of my third trimester. I've got a few more miles to go.

My son has become more and more active as the months progress from little kicks ever so often to a full-fledged tap dance complete with somersaults and backflips. He's very responsive to touch and responds excitedly within seconds of hearing loud noises or feeling something icy cold coming down the pikes.

A friend's mother pointed out that my "nesting" phase has been taking the form of garage "sailing," as I like to call it. Guilty as charged. Swooping in like a hawk, I now zip past those items I used to pick up for myself and zoning in specifically on those brightly colored children's items priced so inexpensively it should be illegal.

What do I do when I'm not trudging across lawns and driveways for the latest bargains? I peruse Craig's List and map out the nearest thrift stores that could possess some treasures just waiting for me.~*

So Much Swirling

There is so much swirling going on in my head right now. I feel like Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day. Swirling, twirling, up in the air things.

Where will they land?~*

Little Peanut

This weekend I had a house full of teenage boys. I didn't have much time to let the news that we're having a boy sink in. Now that the stillness has returned to my home, I can ponder over the joy of having a son.

I keep looking back at our ultrasound photos. I see his little toes and I can't wait to tickle them. His body is cradled in another photo, his hands close to his face. He's my little peanut.~*

Boy Oh Boy

We found out this past Friday on my husband's 30th birthday that we are going to have a son. His name will be Martin George Sultes III.

Right now I have my 3 oldest nephews over. They're playing video games, being loud and they create messes. I'm in training, I suppose...~*

1st Centering Class

This morning was supposed to be a relaxing and fun time to meet with the midwives and learn some things about my pregnancy. It began to crash and burn when they sent me to the wrong clinic.

After I picked up some Caribou, I drove to my destination. Furiously I found a parking spot and hightailed it up to the second floor to find a note directing me halfway across the hospital to an auditorium. After I finally found the place, I took my blood pressure and handed it to the nurse who looked for my chart, but couldn't find it. She told me I was at the wrong class in the wrong place. I gave her the letter I received about the class a few days prior, which didn't mention anything about a different location. Feeling ridiculous, I put my coat back on as the nurse tried to contact someone for me at the correct location across town. She gave me some paper directions and saw me on my way. I sat in my Jeep and cried for a bit. I didn't know how to figure out that paper map. But determined to go to this class, I wiped my tears with a Caribou napkin and figured out how to program my destination into GPS so I could zoom to the next place.

The tragic morning ended on a good note when I was welcome with many friendly faces, apologies, and a gift bag filled with goodies at the next stop. I began to relax as I chewed a NutriGrain Bar and looked through my new binder full of information. The baby, I found out, is at my belly button now. I was able to listen to it's baby's cowboy gallup heartbeat again, laugh, and model the belly band I was wearing to the class. Still feeling high strung from the morning, but perhaps next time will be less stressful.~*

Nesting Momma

My mom has reassured me there's hope for our housing situation. Now it's just the process that's driving me nuts.

Maybe it's torture, but I keep looking online at the house we want to buy. My realtor and the brooker for the house have not gotten back to me yet. My mom's under the weather, so she can't go look just now. I wish I were there myself to mosy around a bit, to drive over there and take a peak in the windows, "kick-the-tires" a bit, see how many miles are put on it.

The last house we were scoping out was sold. Perhaps it was for the best. I just can't imagine how I'd feel if this new gem were to be snatched up before my eyes while I'm a sitting duck in Minnesota.

If you'd like to see what house that's torturing me, take a look: http://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/22629-Maxine-St_Saint-Clair-Shores_MI_48080_1106739679#SendFc .

After all is said and done, I know it is in God's hands. God knows my heart and he knows where to place us. If he's gone to prepare a place for me in Heaven, how much more so here on earth? I will, then, await his precious preparations. It takes all the stress off my hands and allows me to rely on him who knows best. In the meantime, God, grant this nesting momma peace.~*

No Nest to Rest In

I've been house hunting from a distance (me in Minnesota, the destination, Michigan) these past couple months. I thought once we had found the house we'd call home...then it sold. I was really sad and began to start looking again. My present sadness doesn't begin to compare to that.

Today I found my dream house. A quaint little home with enough room for us, complete with little features that relfect me: arched doorways, stone pathway, and a bay window. Appliances are updated. The price and neighborhood, just right.

I both E-mailed, called my mom and my realtor as soon as I could. Then I made the mistake of calling the mortgage center. It had to happen sooner or later. Speaking to an emotional pregnant woman, the man on the reciever laid out all the harsh realities and obstacles he could, seperating me from my dream house in five minutes flat. I felt even more nestless than before and began choking up on the phone. I hung up when I could stifle it no longer, letting the jerking sobs come in waves as the unknown future set in.

This is no attempt to keep up with the Jones'. I want a place to raise our family. My mom had said that I would begin nesting soon. She herself was painting walls and scrubbing the kitchen floor days before she had my brother. This is where I'm at. The feelings are way too real to describe. I don't have a nest for my little one, and I'm feeling a little lost without it.~*

Baby Movements

It sort of feels like little thumb, or a bump. Then other times it feels like a little ball rolling around. A flutter, a poke. A nudge to let me know the waistline on my jeans is invading it's space.

In about 2.5 weeks, we will finally find out what our little one is. I think I'm having a girl, but this girl is really active if that's the case. Perhaps it is a boy afterall...~*

Aggravated

So I asked my teacher last week on Tuesday if we had an exam in another one of her classes that day since I hadn't heard about it in our previous classes. She assured me that we indeed wouldn't be having an exam that day; it was being rescheduled for the following Thursday.

Today is Tuesday, one week after my conversation with my teacher. I showed up to class today expecting to take more notes for our upcoming exam this Thursday. Instead the teacher begins to hand out scantrons and #2 pencils. I was really caught off-guard. What was happening? When I asked the teacher concerning my confusion, she believed I had been mistaken--that I had somehow confused the paper that was due on Thursday with the exam today. I began to relay our exact conversation just the week prior where she informed me of the exam taking place this Thursday. The teacher shrugged and explained that the exam had been mentioned in class before (the class that I had missed last Thursday).

I wasn't getting anywhere with my evidence. I asked if I could take the exam at another time because she had misinformed me of the date. She said the test isn't worth much compared to the paper due in a few days and told me not to worry about it. Some other students tried to comfort me by adding their unhelpful and unwanted remarks: "It's super-easy." "Just guess." "Go for the big numbers on the test; think about the big picture."

That's not the point. I hate being unprepared for important things, like tests and assignments. Coupled with the fact that my teacher gave me the wrong information about the actual date of the exam and thinks nothing of it further aggravates me.

I took the test and guessed on 95% of my answers; the exam had to do with statistical numbers of people in poverty worldwide. This is a test I definately would have liked to have been more prepared for. I'm still heated over this whole incident and I am contemplating going to the department chair with a complaint. The teacher is supposed to go by the syllabus handed out on the first day of class. If there is a change to the syllabus, the teacher should inform the students in writing via e-mail or hardcopy. Mentioning an exam date change one class before the exam is to be given (while informing someone else of an entirely different date) is not any way to structure a class.

Craigslist Junkie: Feeling Like a New Mom Already

I am a garage sale fanatic. I love them. If I see one, I'm willing to stop. I don't do the drive-by to see what they've got method, because 90% of the time, they've got goods that aren't necessarily big-ticket items. I'm a big bargain hunter and it's thrilling to see what I can get with as little money as possible.

The sad thing about garage sales is that they usually only happen about one season a year. What am I to do the rest of the 3 seasons?

Craigslist. I'm two for two so far:

1. Oak crib/toddler bed with near brand new matress in pristine condition + matching oak changing table with new changing pad. Items retail at over $350. Cragislist steal: $150.
2. Baby Trend Galaxy Travel System stroller. Includes mom tray for keys and coffee, baby tray that flips open, one-handed closing system, car seat which latches onto stroller base, car seat base for car plus an additional base for travel. Retails at over $250. Craigslist bargain: $100.

My mom has told me to stop buying items because other people are going to want to buy me these things. "Not big items." I told her. Yet she continued to reassure me that people are going to want to buy me big items. She said I should stick to buying cutsie items, like clothes, instead.

That's not the trend I've always seen at baby showers. Everyone, including myself, loves to buy baby clothes. Although people's choices may not be sizeably correct (like buying Christmas items for a newborn when the baby will be here in August), I'd still like to give them the desire of their hearts and not force them to buy those only big things left on my registry, like a highchair.

Laying Low

Over the weekend my Dr told me to take it easy. So I took her advice and laid around all weekend long. In this span of time, I vegged out in front of my TV and laptop and watched the first 3 seasons of The Office.~*

Relief

I was having some concerns last week after working out. But today I went in for a just-in-case visit with my midwife and she reasurred me that I and baby Sultes are absolutely as healthy as can be. I got to know what blood type I was (my husband doesn't have to be tested for his blood now) and that all my tests came back with good results. She said "It's as good as it gets," which flooded my heart and mind with relief.

I was even able to hear the heartbeat again! Baby Sultes had moved a few inches above where he or she was comfortably nesting last week. I knew I felt slightly Poohish for a good reason.

There is an indescribeable joy that comes with knowing everything is going smoothly. Praise God for a healthy pregnancy!~*

Feeling Like Pooh

Not only do I have "rumblies in my tummy" and also the need to snack on "small smackerals" of whatever I can rumage up in my fridge, my t-shirts are starting to creep up on me. My once too-big work polo kept meeting in the middle of my tummy this morning.

Either this is pregnancy or I need to do some Pooh Bear stretches. "Up, down, touch the ground..."~*

Searching for a Packzi

Packzi ("poonch-skey") is a wonderful Polish pastry that resembles, but is not to be confused with, a jelly-filled doughnut with powdered sugar on top. It is the meal of choice on Fat Tuesday, the day before Ash Wednesday--the beginning of Lent.

Fat Tuesday is the day to get all your goodies in before sacrificing them in a fast that lasts up until Easter Sunday, were we get to gorge ourselves again on chocolate bunnies. Lent is a time to remember Jesus' sacrifice for us on Calvary.

And this Fat Tuesday will mark the 4th straight year in a row where I've had to miss out on Packzi's. In Michigan, they're easy to find. Even in the most minute grocery outlet, there are packages of Packzi's. The hard-core fans of this 1000+ calorie treat wait in line, days--even nights--before the big feasting day to purchase boxes of these things. The very smart and savvy consumer places their order well in advance online to ensure they get their goods.

I have tried to search for these delicatable polish patries before in Minnesota. I walked into Cub my first year here to find the store void of Packzi's. I asked the baker if they even sold Packzi's. He looked at me like I had 3 heads. Online on blogs similar to this one, others complain in exhaustion about their efforts of trying to locate a Paczki in vain.

Sigh. Heritage lost, my unborn child in the womb might never get to experience the sweet goodness that is the Paczki until they are old enough to chew it someday.~*

Pasta With Red Sauce, Please

My longest lasting craving thus far has been mouth watering, savory pasta with red sauce. It brings me back, I think, to those early few weeks of undiscovered pregnancy at the Olive Garden where I ate my fill--literally--after a weekend bout of morning sickness.

My hubby is making a special trip on his way home to help satisfy this craving, yet again. The warm, tart classic linguine alla marinara with crisp side salad and toasty, buttery breadsticks awaits me.

Yum.~*

Baby Update

Yesterday was our first official Dr. apt with the midwives. It was really great because I got to hear the baby's "strong" heartbeat! It sounded like a little train. I cried. Martin kissed me. He was relieved to finally hear some feedback from the womb.

On a more personal note, lately I've been noticing one of the most dreaded, ugly signs of pregnancy: stretch marks. If you're squeemish already, stop reading. If your intrigued or sympathetic or can relate to my plight, move on.

The first new stretch mark I noticed looked like a bruise. That's what Martin thought it was. "No, it's a stretch mark," I reassured him. He didn't look convinced. "Is it painful?" he asked. The mark is not painful, but the process sure is.

Then I noticed other colors of stretch marks, all brand new, today. I thought I had chicken pox because instead of being a light blue, they were bright pink. Oh the joys of becoming a mother. Time to hit the gym I suppose.

This is another fascinating discovery. The midwife--and many other reliable resources--told me I need to exercise while I'm pregnant; that I will be much happier and healthier later on if I do. I start this week with a light routine and have changed some of my eating habits. Apparently I was not supposed to be drinking so much juice. Water is now my hydration drug of choice. I can tell you it's done wonders for my cold today. I feel 10x better than I did this morning, or even this afternoon.

Well, I'll keep you updated on all the glory and anguish each step of the way whether you like it or not. Stay tuned if you're still able to stomach all the wonderful, exciting and sometimes not so glamorous aspects of becoming a mommy.~*

Stress: Let Me Process

Where to live. Where to work. Here, there.

Expensive rent in Minneapolis. Very inexpensive house in Michigan.

Teaching Fellows in St. Paul; more experience now equals better opportunities later. No jobs as of yet from my hometown; still looking--both me and Martin.

Insurance here.

Family there.

Sigh.~*

Feeling Squeemish

I'm still eeked about a mouse being in our apartment. I put nothing on the floor except my shoes and I check the inside out everytime I put them on.

Apparently the friend who recommended the ultrasonic mouse repellent saw a mouse again in her apartment this morning. Now every bump or rustle, every unnatural, non-human sound sends shivers up my spine. I've turned up my music as a distraction and am trying to go about life as usual. I can't help but think, however, how every dark corner in the room could hide a mouse.

I want to buy a cat.~*

The Tail of "Despereaux"

It scurried toward me really fast. My first and only reaction was to scream at the very top of my lungs three times as it darted away from me into our bedroom. Martin dashed down the hallway, not to find a robber, but me--perched atop our couch in the living room still in shock. What I saw in the blink of an eye was a very small but unwelcome mouse.

I got to texting right away, trying to figure out what I could do about our new friend. "LOL's" flowed on from friends wishing me luck with our great mouse caper. Martin, on the other hand, was laxidaisically folding clothes in our bedroom, trying to convince me--still perched atop the couch--that the mouse probably found the hole it came out of, with a little help from my sonic screams, and left.

Slowly, donning my tall winter boots and a cell phone, I made my way into our room. I kicked some socks toward Martin to assit him in his folding and kept my eyes on all corners of the room. I was somewhat comforted by talking to my sister in Michigan. Yet my mom's age-old advice of in the background of "It's more afraid of you than you are of it," did not seem to help calm my nerves as I anxiously awaited the mouse's return. Martin kept reassuring me, "It's probably gone...it's just a little mouse!"

It was very little, and very brave. We called it "Despereaux."

Despereaux didn't stay hidden for long. As soon as Martin was done folding clothes, he walked toward the door and the mouse made a break for it. Darting around a few lone socks, it rapidly made its way toward the only exit that just so happened to be right in front of me. I know now my lungs are in excellent condition and I doubt anymore my ability to scream in the face of certain danger. Poor Despereaux didn't anticipate being greeted, once more, by my screams of terror. He confusedly ran into a box of children's books sitting by our dresser and bolted for the living room.

I didn't mean to scare the little creature. It was pure reaction.

My next reaction was to call security. I stood on our computer chair in the living room as officer so-and-so half-heartedly scanned the premises with his Mag-lite. "Nope, there's nothing we can do." I was convinced this guy had nothing else better to do than find that mouse and put him outside. Martin moved some furniture around as the officer stood trying not to laugh out loud at our peril. "You guys would never survive in Arizona!" he chuckled. I wanted throw a pillow at him. He told us to buy some traps and left after a pathetic two-minute search and rescue.

We've installed some plug-in sonic-repellers since Friday and haven't seen Despereaux since. But we've only braved our home since yesterday night. I'm still wearing shoes around the apartment, just in case. I also double check our hallway where I first met our friend. There are no plugs in the other half of our living quarters. I guess I'll have to rely on screaming to repel any mice that Despereaux hasn't told his story to.~*

Good Advice

My friend Jessica called me yesterday and I was telling her about my latest pregnancy happenings that are not so grand. I told her about the dreams I'd been having and my nosebleeds. We both laughed a little about the new wacked-out things your body does once it's got a passenger on board.

But then she gave me some good advice. She said just because it's a symptom, doesn't mean it has to be that way. God cares about the little things just as much as the big things. Why not pray about pregnancy symptoms, like nightmares?

She gave me an example of what her friend did when she was pregnant. Her friend prayed all throughout her pregnancy that her baby wouldn't be a constant crier. When the baby was finally born, it only cried when it needed something and it was an otherwise very happy baby. Laughing, Jessica said that her baby was a constant crier--that maybe she should've been bold enough to pray for what her friend did. Anyway, Jessica encouraged me to pray about the nightmares again.

That's exactly what I did last night. I got into bed with my Bible and read some of the Psalms--the Psalms are always encouraging. I also prayed before I went to bed that I would sleep soundly and not have any nightmares.

I slept very soundly, didn't have to get up until 5:30am to use the restroom, fell back asleep and dreamt only once at the very end about something indifferent. God is good.~*

Nightmares and Nosebleeds

I'm trying to sleep soundly, but I wake up in a cold sweat because of nightmares. I've heard this is normal for pregnancy.

I also had my first massive nosebleed--also normal for pregnancy.

Oh the joys of pregnancy.~*

Growing Baby - 9 wks

Yesterday, my baby went from embryo stage to official fetus stage. This means that the baby actually resembles a human being now instead of a dinosaur. This was an exciting transformation for me! I can picture arms and legs, toes and fingers instead of a sea creature with little nubbies. Either way, no matter what it looks like, it's a beautiful, amazing thing that is taking place inside of me.~*

Pregnancy Journal

My good pal who now lives in Colorado sent me the Pregnancy Journal this past week. She said she had one when she was expecting and loved it so much that she sent me one too.

I was actually eyeing this journal in the bookstore a few days prior and decided to go for a less expensive, yet also less informative and less inspiring, journal instead. I'm happy I didn't make the purchase because this gift came only a few days after browsing.

After having the journal for nearly half a week, I can now see why over a million copies of this journal have been sold. It's so fun to read! The journal is set up for each day of each week, provides daily baby growth information, mommy nutrition, interesting facts, and places to record how mom's doing. I recommend this for anybody who's expecting.~*

Sleep

For the past couple weeks, I couldn't really sleep much. Even though I've been exhausted, not much sleep would come. So much has been running through my brain, as you can imagine. Not to mention how horribly uncomfortable I've been as my body adjusts to it's new passenger.

But yesterday--ah yesterday--sweet sleep. I've been getting tired around 12pm and at 9:30pm. Yesterday I obeyed natural gravity after training at NCU. The 9:30pm mark arrrived and laid in bed with my laptop and Evan Almighty. No sooner did my head hit the pillow did I doze off into sound sleep. Martin came home early from young adults to hang out with me, but blessedly let me sleep instead. I am very proud to say that I got a full 8.5 hours of needed rest. I'm sure the same pattern will follow tonight.

Sweet dreams~*

Out With It

Whew! I can finally blog about this now that my family has been told. WE'RE EXPECTING! It was really quite funny, actually. When we were away on our weekend getaway for our anniversary, I wasn't feeling good at all on Saturday night. I told myself I need to stop eating when I'm full, thinking that my stomach yuckiness was due to eating large meals that weekend. I had every intention of relaxing in front of the fire that night down in the lobby with our hosts but I high-tailed it up to the bedroom where I stayed the rest of the night.

The next day we went to the Olive Garden with another couple from our college. I like the Olive Garden, but I usually can't finish my meal when I go there because they stock you up on so much food. Well, I had a big bowl of salad, four breadsticks, my ENTIRE entree--a massive bowl of pasta and Tiramisu for dessert. When I had ordered the dessert, the husband of the other couple we were with went to use the restroom. When he returned, he told me that I should ask the waiter for my dessert because it was taking a while for them to bring it. I explained to him that I already ate it. He didn't believe me. "Bring it out, I want to see what it looks like!" I told him I couldn't--it was gone--I already ate it. "Are you sure you're not pregnant?" he asked. "I don't know!" I said.

That following Saturday, I convinced my husband to go with me to purchase a pregnancy test because, with the previous symptoms and others, I thought I might be pregnant. "No, you won't be pregnant," he said, "You haven't been pregnant before." "Have a little patience! I'm new to this!" I said. "Me too!" he replied.

Sunday morning, early. I take the test, set it face down like they tell you to on the sink and wait a few seconds before looking at it. At first, nothing. But then.... a very positive test! Shaking, I clasp my hand to my mouth to keep from letting out some shocked sound. I look at the instructions, look at the test. Instructions. Test. Instructions...test. Still shaking, I take the test and walk the long hallway to my bedroom to tell my sleeping husband his wife is pregnant and that he's going to be a dad.

WE'RE THRILLED! Mom and baby are doing fine. I'm nearly 8 weeks and no morning sickness yet. I'm feeling achy at times, but nothing too dramatic. I also feel slightly superhero-ish; my taste-buds and sense of smell are enhanced--which can be a blessing and a curse. It's fun to watch what new developments are happening each week. It's also fun to see Martin go from never serious to "safety-dad". Stay tuned!