mommy healing powers.

Yesterday was so perfect. It was a beautiful day, Brandon got to come home for lunch, I got a lot of cleaning done, and we got to see our beautiful son's face for the first time!

Say hello to Mr. Tyson Lee Sillivan!

Of course, our little stud was super stubborn and refused to put his arms down or turn to a position where we could get a good look at him so this was the best picture we got. I get Round 2 with my little man and his perfect profile on Monday morning. 

That night, Brandon and I ate dinner, watched a little tv, and were in bed at about 10 p.m. We fell asleep talking about Ty and his cuteness and our dreams for him (which is pretty much how we always fall asleep these days). 

But then, at about 3 a.m. I woke up from being so uncomfortable and hot. I got up, checked the thermostat (which was on 65) and just as I was about to get back into bed, the nauseousness hit. Mind you, I haven't felt nauseous since my first trimester... and only once during that entire period did it wake me up from my slumber. I instantly ran to the guest bathroom because I knew that Brandon had an important day the next morning and needed a good night's sleep. And the sickness came on. I stared into that toilet bowl for what felt like an eternity... only leaving it to get a glass of water and a pillow. Just when I thought I was beginning to feel a bit better, I'd lay on the cold tile in my misery and then a second, third, and fourth wave of nauseousness would hit.

At about 4:30 a.m. I felt defeated and was pushed to my brink. The tears came and I sat there on the bathroom floor sobbing and dry heaving and feeling not much aside from self-pity. And at that moment I wished for my mom. 

I know, even then I felt a little silly. My husband was asleep in a room less than 15 feet away from me and he would have gladly held my hair back and calmed me down if I would have just woken him up. And it's not like me being sick away from home was something new... I haven't lived at home in almost 7 years. But I couldn't help it... in that particular moment, there wasn't much I wanted more. I may have even called her if my phone hadn't been in the bedroom and I wouldn't have been terrified of projectile vomiting everywhere the moment I stood up. So instead, I did the next best thing and cried myself to sleep on the bathroom floor. 

This morning, when Brandon woke up and I told him about my terrible night (after getting mad at me for not waking him), he admitted that he, too, sometimes wished for his mom when he wasn't feeling well. He confessed that just last week when he had a sinus infection and strep throat at the same time, he had wished his mom lived closer so that she could care for him (I had done my best to nurse him back to health but the man was milking his illness a little much in my opinion...) and it made me wonder, what is it about a mom that can instantly comfort us? 

Will I get this mommy healing power once Ty is born? Will he come running to me to kiss his boo-boos and dry his tears? I've seen myself as a lot of things but maternal has never really been one of them. In fact, when our dogs start acting ill, I just get hysterical. Brandon's usually the level-headed one who knows all the tricks in the book to get their little tails wagging again. Will it just come to me like everyone keeps saying it will? Like the moment Ty is born, this secret chamber in my brain that houses all the remedies in the world will just open up and I'll be all like "Eureka! The child is crying! Bring him an antacid and lay him on his belly!" That'd be awesome... but I'm thinking it probably won't happen. (Actually... an antacid and being laid on his belly would probably be the worst thing you could do... come to think of it.)

Fact of the matter is... I know nothing about babies. Or what to do when they're crying. But I do know that my mom does. So thank God she's only a phone call away because I certainly won't be afraid to call her at 4 a.m. when it comes to my little man. And maybe I'll pick up a few tricks of the trade and learn a little somethin-somethin too. 

nesting.

I have been waiting for this. Praying for it, really. Truly hoping that I would be one of those women who got to experience the so-called phase of pregnancy termed "nesting". 

I tend to not be a neat-freak (understatement of the year)... and my house can get a little out of control from time to time... so when I heard that many women experience a time in their pregnancy where they feel this uncontrollable urge to clean and organize and scrub baseboards, I was like, "YES. I want that."

But I didn't know when to expect it. 

My first trimester was hard. Like why-do-women-even-want-babies-after-all-this-misery hard. And it didn't help that I hadn't fully accepted that there was this little being growing inside of me. I was nauseous, tired, and just really wanted a glass of wine with my dinner. When I wasn't throwing up, I was cramping, and when I wasn't cramping, I was sleeping. I think I remember telling Brandon (with complete seriousness) that if he wanted more babies he was going to have to get someone else pregnant. (Now, of course, I completely take that back.) Everyone kept telling me that the second trimester would be better and I remember thinking that it better be or I was going to stab everyone in the face. But cleaning? Cleaning was the LAST thing on my mind. 

It's weird because almost the day that I hit the second trimester, I felt better. Like myself again. Like, "Oh, hi, Katie... welcome back! Now if you could just send that demon-person that had taken your place in your absence to the hell where they came from, that would be great." I had more energy. My appetite returned to normal. And the nauseousness that had controlled my life for 3 months vanished into thin air. I got to finish enjoying the summer and find out we were having a little boy and feel him kick and turn and I fell in love. But, no... no cleaning. 

And then last week I hit my third trimester. And I expected to feel different the day it I hit the mark just like I had for my second trimester. But alas... nada. I think I actually took a 4 hour nap and when I woke up I had a migraine and I remember thinking, "Ohmigod. I've taken a step back! I'm slipping back into pregnancy-hell!" But as the week flew by, I realized that not much had changed. 

Or so I had thought. 

Apparently, this past weekend I had hit the "nesting" faze of my pregnancy and hadn't even realized it. Here, in my little 'ole head, I was thinking I was just "picking up". I went through all of Brandon and I's dressers and closets to find clothes that we could donate to Goodwill. I organized our "junk basket" in the living room. I did more loads of laundry then I think I've ever done in my life. I swept, and mopped, and dusted and cleaned parts of my house that I hadn't touched since we first moved in. But it wasn't until Brandon walked into the kitchen with me on my hands and knees scrubbing the cabinets and and the floors with a sponge and stood over me asking what exactly I was doing when I responded, "Well, cleaning the floors, of course. All of this area is going to be the parts of the house that our little man is going to be able to reach so I'm just making sure it's properly cleaned." As soon as I said it, I dropped the sponge, looked up at Brandon and smiled from ear-to-ear.. "Ohmigod. Am I nesting?" He raised his eyebrows and responded, "Well considering the entire house smells like Clorox and PineSol, I'm going to go with a 'yes' on that one." 

Hallelujah! And the crazy thing is, I don't even hate it. Normally I despise cleaning. Truly. But last night, Brandon had to literally pry the broom out of my hands so that we could watch The Walking Dead together... and all I could think of during the entire show was my mental list of cleaning projects I could tackle tomorrow. 

Which is now today. So please excuse me while I go clean. I need to take full advantage of this in case it's a fluke. 

who said shopping for baby girls was more fun?

When I first found out I was pregnant with a boy I was ecstatic (obviously) but then then I was like... "Oh no, what if he doesn't like to shop?". And when I first went shopping for my little bubs, I was blown away with the girl-to-boy ratio of baby clothing. Imagine racks and racks of little girl dresses and outfits and waaay back in the far corner, one itty bitty wall of baby boy apparel. Womp womp. 

But not to fear... there is a lot of adorable stuff for baby boys. You just have to search for it. Which kinda makes it more fun. 

1. George Alphabet Wall Art

2. Favorite Colorblock One-piece

3. Mamas & Papas Juice High Chair

4. Infantino Breathe Carrier

5. Favorite Velour Footed One-piece

6. Skip Hop Tree Friends Activity Gym

7. Favorite Fleece Jacket

8. Disney Bodysuit with Grow-an-Inch Snaps

delivering a baby.

I gotta say... one of the things that drives me the most crazy about being pregnant is when people ask me the simple question, "So who is you doctor?"

I know, I know. The question is simple enough but I've got to tell you, my response always brings raised eyebrows and a bit of judgment.

Example...

Random Woman: "So who is your doctor?"

Me: "Well, I am choosing not to use a doctor and am using a midwife instead."

Random Woman: "A midwife?"

Me: "Well, yes. I would like to deliver naturally without an epidural and a midwife was the best fit for me."

Random Woman: "Wait. You want to have the baby without an epidural?! Good luck with that."

Of course, the conversation can vary a bit but for the most part, it always has the same outcome. And bottom line... it really drives me nuts.

Before I go off on this tangent, let me start by saying that I am not delivering naturally to show how tough I am or be able to put myself on a pedestal above other mothers' who delivered differently. It was a decision I thought long and hard about, weighing the pros and cons, and figuring out which way I knew I would want my birthing experience to be. Please, please keep this in mind.

But I've got to say.... I really think a lot of people have a misconception about midwives. You imagine them to be all granola and hippy and "let mother earth heal your pain, my child" but the reality is, they're not. Not to worry... Brandon had this misconception as well. When I first told him that I'd like to interview a midwife for the delivery, he freaked out telling me that he just didn't want to have the baby in our living room while our family sat around chanting spiritual encouragements.

Umm... what??

Truth of the matter is, though, that my midwife is very professional, very educated, and I'm certain that if you met her in the hospital setting that I meet her in regularly, you'd never assume that she was a midwife. You'd most likely assume that she was an OBGYN. Except you would notice that she took more time with you. And was more on your level. And was very encouraging for even the most frightened mothers-to-be (like myself). And yes, I will be delivering in a hospital.

I feel comfortable and confident around her. She makes me feel at ease with the changes that are going on with my body. She's been in my shoes. And she's funny. Like thank-God-I'm-not-the-only-one-who-thinks-half-of-these-pregnancy-rules-are-crock funny. But most of all, I like her. And I know that she truly wants me to succeed in my chosen method of delivery. So why wouldn't I want her to be the one to deliver my baby? After meeting her, even Brandon can't help but say that he's glad we chose to go this route.

And as far as the epidural is concerned, it's a decision I made the moment I found out I was pregnant. Pregnancy is a beautiful thing. Truly. And I feel so unbelievably blessed that I get to experience it. I know that there are millions of women out there who have a hard time conceiving and it almost doesn't seem fair that Brandon and I got pregnant without even trying. So I don't want to take a moment of any of this for granted. And I just don't believe that giving birth is something to be numbed... like a headache. Or a broken leg. It's a miracle and it's meant to be experienced. Yes, I know it'll be painful. I am fully aware that it just may be one of the most excruciating things I'll ever do. But I hope that through every labor pain I can remember that delivering a baby is a gift from God. And I want to be able to literally feel that gift in every limb of my body, painful or not, because I know that the end result will be worth it.

Now... this is the way I choose to give birth. I am by no means saying this is the "right way" because frankly, there is no "right way". Choosing your method of delivery is like buying a camera. If you and I were to go into Best Buy right now to buy a camera, chances are we'd choose different cameras because we were both looking for a camera that best suited us and the way that we intended to use it. Every woman is different, so why do we seem so surprised and discouraging when a woman chooses a different method of delivery than the one we intended to use?

Food for thought.

Rant over.

love it & really?

Sorry for the lack of posts! Broken laptops can do that... that and my complete lack of motivation to do basically anything but spend time with Brandon... 

Love it.

- Baby clothes. I mean, could there be anything cuter? Imagine perfect little outfits that your husband would wear except 10 times smaller. And you better believe my son is going to be dressed like a little Brandon-mini-me.
- I think it's finally starting to hit Brandon that we're going to have a baby in less than 3 months (and, no, it hasn't quite hit me yet). There's nothing that makes my eyes swell with tears more then having him rub my belly and talk to our little boy. He tells our son all the things he plans on teaching him and showing him and how excited he is to meet him. Fatherhood is going to look good on that man.
- Baby consignment shops. Could there be anything greater? A seersucker romper for $3? Yes please. Sweet little onesies that still have the tags on them for 50 cents? Don't mind if I do. It's like crack for mommies.
- My subtle cravings for carrot cake and strawberry Pop Tarts. I don't hate it. My thighs do... but I don't.
- People are finally starting to notice that I have a belly from being pregnant and not from being a complete fatty! (Insert angel's chorus here.)
- Surprise dates with my husband. I gotta tell you... not much can make me giddier than having Brandon call me on his way home from work and tell me to get dressed because he's taking me out for a night on the town. Holding hands across the table, sharing dessert, and laughing until it literally hurts makes me fall for him even more (and I didn't even know that was possible). 


Really?

- Maternity clothes. You're given two choices: ugly as sin or expensive as sin. I had finally found a maternity line that I loved except there was ZERO justification to spend $220 on a top that I'd only wear for two months. Looks like I'll be sticking to my trusty leggings and oversized sweatshirts. Sexyy.
- Acid reflux. There's nothing I love more then vomiting in my mouth and being forced to swallow it for hours at a time. Get Tums, they said... it'll help, they said. They're all liars. Kill. Me. Now.
- People who judge me for choosing to go with a midwife for my unsedated delivery. I can't even tell you how many stare at me wide-eyed and tell me I'm crazy when I tell them I don't want an epidural or to deliver with an OBGYN. (This is a rant for another post on another day...).
- Aaand my insomnia has gotten worse. God, I hope this is just prep for the baby and not for the rest of my life. It'd be nice to sleep for periods of longer than 2 hours at a time.
- Holy nipples. 'Nuff said. 
- And umm... where has my belly button gone? If you find it, please send it home. 
- About this "nesting" faze... I'd like to get in on that. Motivation to clean something would be killer right about now. 
- Getting the email from my midwife congratulating me on entering my third trimester. And to inform me that in the next 3 months I should be expected to gain 11 pounds. That's like me adding TWO Lola's to my midsection. No ma'am.... ain't nobody got time for that. 
- And don't ask how... but Brandon and I definitely watched a video of Ricky Lake giving birth. My eyes are still burning.