Exer-saucer fun

Samuel loves his Exer-saucer.  We had some fun while Daddy and Matthew went to the store. 

The rogue agent

I have a problem.  A personal problem. And so this blog is about to get really personal because I need some serious help, so I'm going to have to tell you all about it.

Bertha has gone rogue.


(Big) Bertha is my left boob.


My "extra" pumping has been, until this point, something I have done in order to build up a giant (and I mean giant) supply of extra breast milk and also something I've done to continue burning as many calories as humanly possible (hey, I love my ice cream).  Samuel has slept through almost every single night since he was about 6 weeks old.  He is now 6 1/2 months old.  I have not slept through the night since sometime during my pregnancy with Samuel because, since he started sleeping through the night, I've been awakened by painful boobs (mostly my left) and gotten up to pump.  I did this with Matthew, too, to build up my supply. So every night since Samuel was 6 weeks old I've pumped and typically I would get I'd say maybe 10-11 ounces of milk in my night pumping. Samuel drinks 7.5 oz bottles. Sometimes I've gone through spells where I'd get 15 ounces of milk, and I would like to tell you that 9 or 10 of those ounces were pumped from Bertha alone. I said that at 6 months I was going to stop the middle of the night pumping. I have no idea how to do this.

With Matthew, around 6 months, he started waking up consistently in the night to eat.  And I'd feed him and he'd always eat way less than the 10 ounces I had been pumping, so for a month or so he did this and my supply decreased and I wasn't in pain because he drinking, but just not that much.   Then, when he started sleeping again, so did I and it was pretty nice.

But this is not happening now. Samuel woke up in the night for about like 4-5 days and I fed him and those nights I didn't pump, and I thought we had a nice streak going that would end my pumping drama.  But then he started sleeping again and I was still waking up in pain.  My supply had definitely gone down but was still there. I was pumping maybe 8 ounces instead of like 10, and Bertha was putting out 5-6. But then I started working nights at the ER (just 3 nights in a row) and so I had to pump in the middle of the night. And now I've been done with nights for like a week or so, but for some reason, the last couple of days my supply has just skyrocketed. I am trying to force myself to stay in bed and not wake up in the middle of the night, but like 5:30 rolls around (which has been my wake up time the last few days) and I am in so much pain I absolutely have to pump. It's like, I had no idea I had bread tissue up by my collar bone. Seriously. And I've gotten like 15 ounces, with 9 coming from Bertha. And after I pump, oh my gosh, the relief.  My aunt Linda once said that pumping that much milk after you're that full is better than sex.  So, so, true.

But...this cannot continue. Because I only have one more day of waking up at 5:30 for work (Thank you, God) and then I will be sleeping until like 7 and I'm not going to be happy when Bertha wakes me at 5:00 or 5:30.

So what do I do? How do I tame this beast? I need to sleep in the middle of the night. But my schedule is so erratic. It changes weekly, if not, monthly, with each rotation and so, therefore, does my pumping schedule, so that's probably not good for tying to decrease things.  Do I just pump until I'm not in pain? (Because today, that was like 6 ounces out of Bertha alone until I was not in pain) or do I set an alarm at like 2 or 3, before I'm bursting, and wake up and pump just like 3 ounces out of Bertha? And how long do I do all this for? How long is it going to take to tame this?  Do I need a stepwise program here to decrease my addiction, here? I'm not sure I can go cold turkey. I'd be in so much pain that'd I'd be awake for hours in the night thinking about my pain when getting up to pump and going back to bed takes 20 minutes to 30 minutes. Not sure how long it would take to decrease things, though, if I went cold turkey.

Has anyone ever dealt with this before? Things just worked so seemlessly with Matthew, but with Matthew I was nursing more often than I was pumping and now that's not really the case with my schedule. I think the pump has caused my problems, which have not really been problems until I decided I really, really, need to sleep through the night.

So, nursing friends, and particularly those who pump a lot (I think I even have some whose kids never took the breast and they exclusively pumped...) fix my problem. Please.

The 6 month saga

The moral of this post is as follows: drop out of medical school.

I am delayed on Samuel's 6 month post because I've been waiting for the story to finish so I could give you the entire thing.  Knock on wood, somebody, but I think I'm ready to tell you the saga.

So like a week or so before Samuel turned 6 months I thought it was time to try solids. I made my own oatmeal cereal from steel cut oats. I was so super mom. Only the healthiest for my baby. So Samuel did fine with it for a few days but then we started pooping a crazy amount. Like 7-8 times a day. And then it got worse. His little bottom became flaming read, his poop started having mucus in it, and my happy little baby was super fussy all the time.  Then, at his 6 month check up he weighed 15 lbs 12 oz and had dropped to the 17% and was only 25 3/4 inches long, had dropped to the 10%.  My pediatrician was not worried, just said it was an allergy to oats.   But I, you see, I am in medical school. So, clearly, my son had some horrible, rare disease.

The rare disease I diagnosed him with was Celiac's disease, an autoimmune condition where the body cannot tolerate gluten and alters the intestine so it cannot absorb nutrients. People who have this disease are in horrible pain experience horrible diarrhea, and cannot gain weight.  Oats are often contaminated with gluten. I was certain this was it. I talked with a friend whose son has a milk allergy (pretty common) when she has dairy in her diet (because, clearly, Samuel had developed a milk allergy suddenly, at 6 months old, as well) and learned that the mucus can stay in the poop long after the offending agent was removed.  About 3 days after we stopped the oats, Samuel was much less fussy and his bottom cleared up, but his constant pooping didn't get better and his poop still had mucus. I fretted. I was convinced something was horribly wrong, so I went gluten free for a day until I decided...perhaps totally changing my diet was a bit premature.

He was doing better on the fussy scale, but I was so certain he wasn't gaining any weight. We were weighing him at home on our fool proof cookie sheet laying on top of a postal scale. Error free---for sure. And our scale showed us he was losing weight. Celiacs. For sure. I started him on rice cereal (store bought, this time, I was done being super mom) and that night he had one episode of diarrhea. I made Tim call Gerber who said that there is a chance it could have been contaminated with Gluten. Celiac's for sure.

The next day he came down with a fever.  I stopped the rice cereal and continued him on just homemade fruits and veggies. THEN a few days after the fever was gone, he broke out in a rash.

An allergy? I didn't think so. I suddenly had enough clinical foresight to note the rash was viral, but I still took him to the doctor (who agreed with me...).  I told her all about my woes, how he was certain to have Celiac's disease, how I was not looking forward to going gluten free. How he was losing weight. We weighed him. 16 lbs 8 oz (two weeks after his 15 lbs 12 oz) 20%, right back to where he belonged. He's not fussy at all now, and is doing quite well on his fruits and veggies and his pooping, praise God, is now well under control and fully back to normal.  I'm still a little hesitant to re-introduce rice cereal, but I am hopeful his diarrhea that night was from his virus. The oats...I'm still out on that. But if he had Celiac's disease, I think he'd be reacting to the gluten in my diet and losing weight.

Crisis averted.   So we will try rice again in a week or so. And who, knows maybe oats too (rolled this time, not steel cut).  This whole incident may have just been a long virus.

But, for now, he is a happy go lucky (albeit short, he's still in the 10%) 6 month old baby who can now sit up (pretty well) and who loves to spend time on his hands and knees rocking back and forth.  It will not be long now until he's chasing after his brother.

I promise, I do not over diagnose other people and other people's kids with rare diseases.  Just me. And my own kids.   It's exhausting, being me.   I think its more exhausting being Tim, who has to listen to my nonsense.  Medical school friends totally understand, because I know I'm not alone. Medical school and parenting don't mix.

Matthew's favorite thing in the world is to take pictures with my phone. Don't tell him that we got him his very own kid camera for his birthday. I think I'm more excited then he will be, cause then I can get my phone back. But here are a few he has snapped of Samuel:

At the doctor getting his 6 month shots...I had no idea Matthew even had my phone:

This one is from like 5 months old, but it's still cute. I am terrible about loading pictures from our camera onto my computer...so a lot of blog post pictures are limited by what's on my phone.

5 months old!

Ok, so I am really behind with the monthly posts on Samuel, cause he will be 6 months in 2 weeks. Alas, time flies.

Well, we went to the neurosurgeon to discuss his head and she diagnosed him with "mild to moderate plagiocephaly."  She recommended that we try aggressive "positional changes" to keep him off of the right side of his head in order to see if we get any change.  She thinks that with work, we can avoid the helmet, which seems to be a lot of work. You have to go to the doctor all the time with the helmet to check for skin breakdown and for fittings. So we are trying lots of things. The first step was to not swaddle him at night anymore.  I know a lot of mom's probably stop swaddling their kids a lot younger than 5 months, but I was attached to him sleeping through the night and worried that he would have a rough time.   Luckily, it was a seamless transition.  He still sleeps through the night but now he likes to sleep on his side (his left side) and sometimes rolls onto his stomach so now he is not sleeping and putting pressure on that side of his head.  I think this will help a lot.  He spends lots of time upright in his bumbo or exersaucer.  He is also "tripoding" now so he can hold himself sitting up on his arms for several minutes. I think in a few weeks he'll be sitting independently and this will also help a lot, too.   We try to never put him on his back during the day, but he rolls a lot so he ends up there at least part of the time. We go back in 2 months for a follow up.

At his neurosurgery appointment right at 5 months he weighed 15 lbs 1oz.

He wants to crawl really badly and he can scoot pretty well and does a lot of push ups to move himself forward.  He will be crawling after his big brother in no time!

He is a happy, vocal baby and has become quite fascinated with Matthew.  He loves to look at Matthew and laugh and smile, and Matthew laughs and talks to him and Samuel smiles back.  It is so precious to see my boys forming a bond and beginning to play together.  Having children is just so precious.  Time to bring in that sister....

3 months old!

Happy 3 months to my sweet Samuel.  He is getting so big and is starting to look so much like his big brother.  Samuel's eyes are still blue and I'm hoping they stay that way.  Other than that, he looks very similar to Matthew. Especially when he sleeps. So sweet.

I have had so many people recently tell me what a good baby he is.  I know this to be true.  He is so calm and so easy, it's actually a little scary.  He does not cry.  Really.  Even in the morning, sometimes I will go in to his room to wake him up and feed him and he'll be awake, all swaddled nice and tight, just looking around.  Then I have to wonder, "how long has he been awake?"  He fusses (and I wouldn't even call it crying) when he wants his binky or if he's really hungry (which doesn't happen very often since I feed him on schedule instead of waiting for him to ask for it.)  We can put him down on his mat or in his chair and he'll sit there and look around and kick his legs and coo for an hour. I feel like I neglect him sometimes because it's so easy to put him down and forget about him in favor of the screaming, shrieking, running, busy, mischievous toddler.

He hardly sleeps during the day, especially considering he is only 3 months old.  He sleeps in spurts at day care for probably a total of like 2 hours.  He might take an hour nap in the evening. So maybe he'll sleep for 3 hours total during the day.  Then at night he'll sleep for...well...I don't really know how long because I usually have to wake him up to start the day so i can go to work.  I think he'd probably sleep for between 10 and 11 hours.  I am thinking of trying to feed him bigger feedings during the day so I can cut out one feeding and put him to bed earlier.  He currently eats 5 times a day. I feel like 4 times is a little few for 3 months, but maybe it will work.

Not really sure how much he weighs now since we don't go to the doctor till 4 months, but I think he weights about 12.5 lbs since i tried to weigh him on our scale at home.

He talks a lot, making cute little cooing sounds. ;He gives small little squeals and is experimenting with "aahhh."  Matthew was never so talkative.  Samuel also has very little interest in rolling from his tummy to his back.  He just lays on his mat like a sack of potatoes.  He doesn't even lift his head or push up.  It's very funny, really. When he's on his back he is so active and will sometimes turn to his side.  And he can hold his head up well and put some weight on his legs pretty well, too.  But apparently tummy time is not so appealing.

Samuel often has a very concerned look on his face.  It's just how he always looks if he's just checking out the world.  We think it's very cute. But we are a little biased.

I could not be more in love with this wonderful son God has given us.  Tim and I were talking last night that perhaps the reason Samuel is so easy is because by the time he is a year (hopefully) we will have a (potentially) needy little girl who is not that much older than him.  Perhaps Samuel's temperment is going to be what prevents us from checking ourselves into the psych ward. We love you, Samuel Christopher!

Pool Adventures

We belong to the best pool.  It's really more like a mini waterpark for kids.  There are a ton of slides, including a tunnel type slide that spirals, and a lot of things that spray, squirt, and dump water for the kids to play with.  (There are also super steep slides for adults...)  And the baby pool is really fun, too, with some mini slides and other fun equipment.  Matthew has so much fun at the pool and really loves all the water slides.  Of course, I can't get any pictures of him going down the bigger slides because I'm certain my camera would get wet.  There is a giant bucket (and I mean, giant) that dumps water over the play area every minute or so. It's impossible to play on the equipment without getting dumped on. I will say, that's a bit annoying.

Yesterday was Samuel's first time at the pool where he was awake.  He enjoyed sitting in the water with his dad.  We are looking forward to spending a lot of time at the pool this summer!  I am so thankful Matthew is fearless in the water, and even more thankful that a lot of the pool here is so shallow that Matthew can stand.  There is only one area that's to deep for him to stand, and that's not the area with the slides, which is helpful.  We're going to have to watch him when we go to Florida. He's going to run and jump in the pool faster than we can catch him.  We have him in swim lessons for the second summer, but of course he's not really capable of swimming by himself yet.

Two Months Old!

First, sorry for a 2 month post at 2.5 months. It took me uploading a blog app on my phone to get pictures into this post. Here is what I wrote:

For my Mother's Day present, Samuel turned 2 months old.  My goodness, little guy, stop growing!

He is the sweetest, most awesome little baby.  He hardly cries.  The only times he cries are if he is hungry, wants his pacifier, or is tired.  He'll just play on his mat or sit in his chair and look around. It's so easy to forget he is there, especially with Matthew dominating the house.  Yesterday we had our 14 and 15 year old babysitters come over to watch Matthew while we went for our Saturday long run and this time I left Samuel with them, also.  Who leaves their 2 month old baby with a 14 year old? Well, he is just such a good baby they had no trouble. He didn't cry for the whole 2 hours. He just looked around and eventually fell asleep.

His latest trick is that he now smiles.  I am trying to see if he will cooperate and smile at the camera.  I had forgotten how sweet their little smiles are and how they make you feel like you're doing something right.

He continues to eat quite well and his sleeping has improved dramatically.  He sleeps through the night pretty much regularly.  For the record, however, I do not.  My milk supply is out of control and I wake up in the middle of the night to pump (I tell myself it's worth it to stock up our deep freeze).  If he sleeps past 7 in the morning (on Saturday and Sunday mornings he slept till about 8:30 or 9:00 after having gone to bed at 11....) I have to give in and just pump all my milk out--about 12 or 13 ounces.  Luckily, he'll take a bottle, though he only eats about half of what I pumped.  So, basically, I have enough milk to feed twins.  I am very grateful to have this "problem" and so I'm not really trying to cut back the supply (yet).  I'll give it several months like I did with Matthew before I attempt to reign it in.

Samuel went to the doctor for his 2 month check up.  Of course, he was upset greatly by getting shot 3 times, but other than that he says it wasn't so bad.  He weighs 11 pounds 3 oz (35%) and is 23 inches long (51%).  The doctor's office measured him at 20 inches when he was at the doctors office at 3 days old and not 22 inches like the hospital, so I'm not sure who is wrong. I suppose I should measure him myself to see.  He seems quite long to me.

It's amazing to me how different I can already tell my children are.  When I put Matthew on his tummy he would always push up and lift his head.  He rolled over for the first time on his 2 month birthday (this trend continued, he walked at 10 months and now throws a ball as well as his 4 year old cousin).  Samuel just sits there like a sack of potatoes and roots around for something to suck on.  He isn't too thrilled with picking his head up off the mat, though I know he can do it.  Matthew is quite the athlete, so maybe this means Samuel will be different.  Who knows. We are working on more tummy time to encourage him to use his neck.  He can hold it up pretty well when we're holding him, I guess he just doesn't love he mat.

And now for some pictures:

One Month Old

I can't believe Samuel is already one month old. Even more than that I can't believe I only have 2 weeks of maternity leave left. Not ok. What am I going to do when I can't watch tv while I nurse and sleep until 11 or noon when we've had a rough night?

Our little guy is growing well. A few days ago he weighed in at 8 lb 15 oz putting him in the 35 percentile for weight and 45 percentile for height. He's not very chubby yet but I am doing my best. He eats quite well and I have quite the overabundant milk supply. We already have tons of frozen, pumped milk in our deep freeze. We tried a bottle yesterday and it went well, paving the way for when I go back to work in 2 weeks a slave to the pump.

He sleeps pretty well at night in his crib but is not very consistent. Some nights he'll go 3 or 4 hours between feedings while others he'll last 5 or 6. Either way I can't complain too much, it could be so much worse.

And he is a good baby. He never cries unless he is hungry or wants to be held or wants his pacifier. When awake he is quite alert and attentive. He loves to play on his playmat and tolerates his older brother quite well.

Matthew is adjusting though the first few weeks he had a rough time. He has become way more attached to Tim and always says he wants "my daddy" because needing to feed the baby all the time has lessened the attention I can give him. It breaks my heart but I can't really fault Matthew for it. I constantly feel like I can't hold Matthew, play with Matthew or spend enough quality time with Matthew and it leaves me feeling like a terrible mother. I am hoping it gets better with time. I know some moms can nurse one one run around with another but I am not that talented yet. He loves Samuel and always asks to hold him and is (usually) good with him.

Samuel has enjoyed his first month on earth, I think, and I have definitely enjoyed the new addition to the family. It really doesn't get much better than this.

Here are some pictures from Easter when Samuel met his cousins Jonathan (3) and James (3 months). Also that day was Samuel's baptism. Our church doesn't do infant baptisms so we had Samuel baptized by my mom, who was ordained a few months ago, at her church. Samuel shared his special day with James. I think it was special that she my mom got to baptize her two newest grandsons. Thanks, mom!

And now we have two

On March 13th at 4:36 in the morning we welcomed Samuel Christopher Larson into our lives. We were delighted to meet him and we can tell he is already quite the fine little fellow. Samuel weighed 6 lbs 15 oz and was a very lengthy 22 inches. Since his birth he has been a fairly agreeable baby and has taken to nursing quite well. My sister has this theory that babies who are born in the middle of the night have their days and nights mixed up. This may be true, though we have only had one night with him. It was a little rougher than our first night with Matthew.

The birth was quite the experience. I had wanted a natural birth without any medication and I was hoping for a water birth. What I got was the hardest day of my life.

I started having contractions on Sunday afternoon and they picked up Sunday night. I didn't sleep that night because I was having regular contractions that were painful enough to keep me awake but not painful enough to send me to the hospital. I was so excited to be so close to the "end." Then Monday morning when I woke up the contractions had subsided in regularity and I was so frustrated. I was also exhausted since I hadn't slept the night before so I tried to sleep. Every time I feel asleep contractions began again and woke me up, and they got progressively more intense throughout the day but were very far apart. I called my midwife and she told me to maybe go in and have my cervix checked. I was going to go in without Tim but then I decided I wanted to go for a run instead. Yes, obsessive. I was hoping it would drive me into labor. So I ran 3 1/2 miles with Chester and felt fine the entire run. Shortly after getting home from the run I realized I was in labor. The contractions picked up immediately after the run and became a lot closer together. I showered, tried to eat, walked around, and called up our babysitters. Tim and I got into the hospital at about 10:00 on Monday night and I was 4 cm when we got there. After 1 hour at the hospital I was 5 cm so they admitted me and called in the midwife. Let the fun begin.

And thus began the hardest 6 hours of my life. I've heard people who have had natural births say it was the hardest thing they have ever done. This is most definitely not an exaggeration. To say that I became hysterical is really not an understatement. The pain was unbearable and I hadn't really prepared for the labor at all. It was like I woke up one day and thought, "I'll try to have a baby without any meds" and figured "no big deal." The regular breathing and focusing on something "outside of the contractions" quickly became, as things progressed, moaning and trying to make it through which later became groaning and praying to God to make the contraction end which then became screaming and saying, "I can't do this anymore" and then finally ended at screaming hysterically and yelling at the midwife to tell me exactly how much longer I was going to have to do this, pleading with her to make it stop, screaming that she needed to cut the baby out, and that she needed to vacuum suction the baby out (at this point she told me I knew too much).

I got in the bathtub and labored in there for probably 1-2 hours. I definitely was not focused on the time. My husband was by my side the entire time and at one point was literally the only one holding me up. After a while the midwife checked my cervix and said I still had some left and that the baby was in the posterior position (this makes labor more painful and also makes it harder for the baby to descend through the pelvis). She suggested I sit up and I'm pretty sure this is when I became unraveled. When I moved the contractions grew in intensity and then she had me go sit on the toilet (a common thing to help the baby descend) and that was pretty much the end of me mentally, when I had to get out of the tub and things picked up even more.

I felt intense pain and pressure but pushing wasn't really helping to move the baby (instead other things were moving...) so they brought me to the bed. They kept saying I wasn't pushing right, that I was screaming too much, and that I needed to push instead of scream. I have said this to several women when I was helping them deliver in my OB rotation. I had no idea what I was saying. This is so much easier said than done and it took probably 30 minutes for me to actually figure out how to do this (and even then I was only 50% successful). In between every contraction I pleaded with the midwife to tell me exactly where the baby was and exactly how much longer this was going to take and how many more pushes I needed. She told me the baby could be born at 4:30. This was at 4:00. 30 minutes seemed like the end of me. I tried to hang in there but I kept saying there was no way I could do this. Everyone told me I had no choice. I knew they were right and that is as powerless as I've ever felt; to be so desperate to stop something and the only way to stop it is to do the very thing I fully believe I cannot. The nurses who knew I was a runner kept telling me, "this is the 26th mile." Yeah, right. This was way harder than any 26th mile or 13th mile or any last mile of any race I've ever done.

But I did it. After 2 hours of pushing (longer than I had to push with Matthew) and only 6 minutes later than the midwife's prediction, Samuel Christopher Larson cried life's first cry.

I was so excited to be done with the labor (and I was shaking uncontrollably) that all I could say while holding my brand new baby was, "it's over. it's over. it's over." I don't even think I announced his name to my mom for like 10 minutes.

I think for 24 hours I suffered post traumatic stress syndrome from an unmedicated child birth. I am immensely glad I did it, both for the quick recovery and also for the sense of accomplishment I feel. We might have another one and if we do, I will probably be foolish enough to do it again. However, for the life of me, I can't tell you why. My birth with Matthew any my friend, epidural, was so much more pleasant but this one was so much more meaningful. And, if I may say so, slightly heroic.

And so, without further ado I introduce you to our little string bean.
Proof that I gave birth in a bathing suit

Matthew is obsessed with holding "Samool"
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow
Praise Him, all creatures here below
Praise Him above, ye heavenly hosts
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Amen.

The Curse of the Fat Face

Pregnancy is absurd. Ridiculous. Demoralizing. Admittedly, totally worth it, but absurd, ridiculous, and demoralizing nonetheless. First, I can do nothing cool. I couldn't join Tim for his business conference held at the indoor water park. Those water slides are a no, no for the pregnant woman. We can't go skiing on our anniversary (another no, no). Tim won't let me rent an ATV--too bumpy, he says. I can't go horsebackriding. Poor horse would die. Second, what I can do, others think I shouldn't. I go still run nearly every day. 3-5 miles. On the weekends I do my long run,-7 miles. "why don't you just take it easy?" my mom says. "Are you sure you can run all the way up to end?" Um, hello? Second pregnancy, here. Matthew was just fine. And I get looks from cars, and honks and comments, "is that a good idea?" Perhaps some of you wonder the same thing. And then third, to add insult to injury, there is the pregnancy itself. The complete exhaustion that makes me say to Tim, "sorry, we can't go to the 7:15 movie. We need an afternoon one." The nausea that made the surgery clerkship such a horrid experience. And then, finally, the weight gain. I mean, I haven't gained that much weight by pregnancy standards. But it's like suddenly, I'm a whale. Now, I understand the need to gain weight in pregnancy. But what I don't understand, really, is the need to gain weight in my thighs, my butt, my arms, my chest, and, mostly, my face. My face? Honestly?

So today I blog about the curse of the fat face because I know I am not alone. In fact, I have done research. I have seen all these pictures of friends on facebook who have had recently had a baby. Yes, they all suffer from the curse of the fat face. Is this really a necessary part of pregnancy? Is looking like my face has retained a gallon of water really life sustaining for my baby? I have a hard time believing that it is, but the percentage of pregnant women suffering from the curse of the fat face makes me think perhaps I'm missing something. I would like to provide you with some evidence. I wish I could post before and pregnant pictures of my friends, too, but that's probably a breach of ethics and some pregnant woman privacy code. Here is a wedding picture: taken approximately 2 weeks before little Matthew came to be:


Then here is a picture of the fat face, taken approximately 34-36 weeks later. Then, we can show the demise of the fat face. Here, Matthew was about 9 months old.

And, then, finally, we have the fat face again, at about 24 weeks pregnant with this one.
It's scary to think that right now I'm 31 weeks along and my face is even fatter. Probably. I haven't taken any recent pictures of myself for comparison. Perhaps I should. It's not just the face, either. I mean, study those pictures. Notice the conspicuous lack of a collar bone in the pregnancy pictures. And the distinct increase in upper arm and shoulder diameter in those same pictures. Again, I ask, is this a necessary part of pregnancy? The belly, now, I can understand. But the collar bone? The arms? And, of course, the FACE? Is this necessary?

Where is the complaint department? I would like to file one.

I ran into someone at school the other week, a secretary in the office. She saw me and knew I was pregnant even though my coat was zipped. The fat face probably gave it away. Anyway, she starts raving about being pregnant. How much she loved her two pregnancies. What a wonderful, "glowing" time it is. I just smiled and nodded. What drug did this woman take in her pregnancies, cause I want some. I know there are a few crazies out there who love the 9 month journey of having your body taken over by a tiny little person, but I am not one of them. The reward is great and that is the only reason I do it.

And so, in view of that reward, I waddle on with my thick arms and fat face, all the while dreaming of the time this summer when my body is my own and I once again can fit into that little, black dress.

Wait, I'm having a baby?!?

I'm having a baby. At least, that's what they tell me. Earlier last week, my midwife and I were chatting at my appointment and she asked me if I'd thought about what kind of birth I'd like to have in a mere 9 weeks. I just kind of stared at her. "The kind where he comes out, I guess" I replied. She knows I'm not serious, I have ideas and emotions and moral stances on childbirth. Yes, I'm one of those people. But really, those all apply to other people's births because I'm not having a baby. Or, am I?

Now, I understand fully that I am pregnant. Not a day goes by where I don't think about how I am pregnant: what I can and can't eat and drink (we went to the most elaborate company party for Tim's work in DC this past weekend, and I've never been so sad to be pregnant as when I saw that open bar (all 5 of them)), how much more difficult it is for me to run now and how running 8 minute miles is merely a dream and how my new 10 minute mile pace makes me feel like a fat whale, how it takes me 5 minutes to turn over in bed, and when I look at myself in the mirror and call out, "where did my collar bone go? Why is my face so fat?" Plus, the every present movements of my little guy which make me smile and laugh and sometimes keep me awake. Oh yes, I know I'm pregnant. But having a baby? Let's not get carried away, people.

Because, you see, Tim and I are adopting a child. We can't possibly also be having a baby. We think and talk all the time about how our adopted daughter will come, when she will come, and what going to Russia will be like. Tim is such a planner, and I swear he has our entire trip mapped out. He must visit the site gotorussia.com regularly. The other day he informed me that the hotel we are staying in has high speed internet for when we need to talk with Dr. in the states about our referral. Good to know, since going to Russia is probably 7 or 8 months away. Over Christmas Tim was asked if he was taking time off for the holidays. "No," he replied, "I'm trying to save my vacation time for the adoption." "Oh, are you taking time off in March?" she asked, to which Tim replied, "What's happening in March?" My sister later relayed this story to me as if I'd be shocked and abhorred that my husband had forgotten about the birth of our second child. I was only shocked that when she mentioned March to me, I knew what was happening.

In our defense, I must say, it is hard not to be preoccupied with the adoption. Paper work out the wazoo and the ridiculous amount of money we have already seen leave our bank account (for which we have nothing to show, which is even the scarier part), and the million details like visas and medical school schedules and time off for Tim from work and trying to somehow do some fundraising so we can afford to feed our 3 children 2 years from now. This process is not for the faint of heart.

But in other ways, it just seems like it has made me totally forget our little guy. He is supposed to make his appearance in 9 weeks and he has no crib. Nor have I checked Craigslist recently for any new postings of "white crib." Last night I realized we need some kind of rocking chair or nursing chair in his room so I can feed him at 1 am (and 3 am and 6 am....) The only reason he has other furniture is because amazing quality free furniture was dropped off at our house in November. I had to do zero work to get it. But, I must also say, his sister also has furniture. Baby boy has no clothes, except what will be able to work from his big brother (they are off season. Darn!), and, most importantly, he has no name. His sister has a bed for when she is out of the crib (the white crib she will steal form her little brother when she comes home), and a few decorations for her room that I had my parents pick up for us in Russia last summer. The only reason she doesn't have clothes is because I have no idea what size she will be when we get her. Otherwise, every time I passed the girls clothes in the store, Tim would have to hold me back. And, most importantly, she has had a name for months that we use every time we talk of her.

Perhaps I should find a crib. And a chair. And get a few spring outfits that will fit. And maybe get a baby monitor and some bath toys that don't have mold growing inside them that gets shot out every time you squeeze the toy to make it shoot water. And maybe we should find a name. Maybe. But, like I said, let's not get carried away here, people.

I think some of this is normal for second time moms. After all, we already have a toddler we're chasing. I know Matthew, so I bought new bedding for him to give his current things to his brother. He says really funny things, so I tell stories about that on facebook instead of posting, "9 weeks to go!" I have noticed from my friends who have recently had second children that there is a conspicuous absence of belly pictures and countdowns during the second pregnancy. So maybe I can blame it all on that. And maybe it's cause he's a boy. No offense to my newest bundle, but baby boys are so 2009. I am not jumping to buy him clothes like I did for his big brother. And thus begins his long, long life of hand me downs (but boys don't care, right?). And when deciding whether I want to buy a crib bedding for him or his sister, it is really a no-brainer for me to save our crib bedding buying money for the day when I don't need to bypass polka dots and pastels.

But really all this has just left me feeling totally un-prepared for what happens 9 weeks from now. Not to mention I feel like the most unloving mother when I admit I have a preference for buying for the girl and not the boy. But mostly, having a baby seems too stressful to me. After all, I'm adopting a baby AND I'm pregnant. Can you believe that?

Trick Or Treat...and....

Matthew had his second experience trick or treating on Monday night. He LOVED it. He ran from house to house for an hour and a half, visiting houses the whole time. We filled up his little pumpkin with candy. I thought he would be dying to eat some when we got home (he kept asking the whole time we were out) but his Aunt Abby gave him a dump truck for his birthday (of course it makes noise) and he was so obsessed with that when we got home he forgot all about his candy. He still hasn't had a piece yet. Fear not: it will be eaten. Mostly by us. But he had so much fun trick or treating, I think the experience was enough for him. We went with his friend Cooper. Cooper was a little slower than Matthew (though he carried his own pumpkin the entire way) so Matthew kept running ahead and then running back and yelling "Cooper, Come on!" Matthew also invited himself into several houses to pet their dog. He would run in, pet the dog, give the dog a a hug, and run out, closing the door behind him and yelling, "Bye bye! See ya!" What a hoot. Below are some pictures of our little monkey.

In other news, we caved at the ultrasound and decided to find out the gender of baby Larson #2. We decided that if it was a girl (in my mind, highly doubtful. My pregnancy with Matthew was nearly identical to this one, and so from the beginning I was convinced it was another boy) we would adopt a boy from Russia instead of a girl. This is mostly because we could get a boy several months younger than a girl. So we found out at the last minute in order to be able to make a more rational decision about the gender of our adopted child.


All credits for the pumpkin go to my former roommate, Marni. I am totally not that creative!

Rockin' and Rollin'

The past few weeks the baby has kicked into full gear. I feel movements all the time, and they are getting strong enough to see from the outside of my belly. This near constant movement has been incredibly reassuring to my anxious soul. The baby is incredibly active, just like its brother. Matthew was very active in utero and how now progressed into an extremely active little boy. The other day Tim was doing some yardwork and had a ladder out going up to the roof. I turned my back on Matthew for just a second, and when I turned back around he was on top of the ladder and had one leg on the roof of the house. He climbed down all by himself. He has only just turned two! I know now from these little baby movements that Matthew will have a partner in crime.

Yesterday we had our 20 week ultrasound. We have been calling the baby "Take Three" since we found out we were pregnant, reflecting how this is our third take at baby number two. Well, we saw a perfect little Take Three on the screen, flipping all around. The ultrasound tech had trouble getting pictures of the heart because the baby was so active. She even commented that this one will be a handful. I wouldn't have it any other way. I cannot comment how the relief I feel at finally having a healthy, growing baby. Seeing Take Three on the screen felt like a miracle, and I can say that I appreciated this one a lot more than the ultrasound we had with Matthew. With Matthew, I so desperately wanted a girl. This time, I am just so relieved at the presence of a little baby in there that I don't really care all that much.

For those who are wondering, our due date is March 20th. The baby will be about 3 months younger than one cousin and about 9 weeks older than another. Babies everywhere! I have not taken a recent picture of the baby bump, and I have not yet scanned in our ultrasound pictures. I will do that soon and post it. For now, here is the first baby bump picture we took. It's at about 15 or 16 weeks.