Dreamers bask in the happy

I haven't been my usually happy positive self the past week.  Technically, I guess it's kind of justified.  I mean, Sam and I lost a baby last year the day before Thanksgiving.  We thought we were out of the woods this pregnancy. 

We made some changes this time around.  I have been getting shots every week for the last five weeks to prevent pre-term labor.  I've been seeing not one, but two doctors regularly.  I took all my vitamins.  I ate right.  I did everything I was supposed to.  And I managed to get pre-eclampsia anyway.

The pre-eclampsia has severely impacted the pregnancy.  Our little girl, who was measuring five days bigger than she should have a month ago, has since stopped growing.  The placenta isn't supplying enough nutrients...blame to pre-eclampsia.  Oh, and because of the placental issues, she stopped making amniotic fluid.  And that has made her entire survival something of a crap shoot.  At first, the doctor had no hope. 

Ah, but I did what I do.  I kept researching.  I kept exploring my options.  I had to understand everything.  Sam handles things a bit differently.  And between the two of us and the way we attack approach life together, we have made it through the first week of bed rest, the most hopeless time I've known. 

In fact, today, we're 23 weeks. 

It hasn't been smooth sailing.  After the bad news Thursday, I was back at the doctor on Friday.  I was given a Doppler to use over the holiday weekend.  And then I was back at the doctor on Tuesday, again on Thursday.  Oh, and I spent three hours in the hospital Wednesday evening making sure that the epigastric pain wasn't a sign my condition had taken a turn for the worse. 

So, yesterday...I finally had a good appointment.  Finally.

I know I had my hopes for what would happen.  I had done the research.  I had hoped that after the appointment next Thursday, I'd find out that we could start betamethasone shots to mature the baby's lungs and then deliver in the coming days. 

On the one hand, I want her to stay in as long as it is safe.  On the other, I am so ready for this to be over with.  I hate feeling sick and weak.  And more than anything, I want her being cared for by doctors and nurses, closely mointored.  I want to see her and touch her and know she's safe.  I'll do whatever it takes.  I'll do whatever they ask.

And the doctor confirmed that was the plan.  There will be two doctor appointments on Thursday.  Then one more on Friday to get the second betamethasone shot.  Depending on how things are going, I'll be on bed rest until she's delivered, or I could be hospitalized. 

We have a plan to make sure that they can do a c-section.  In case the pre-eclampsia is affecting my clotting ability, we are preparing for me to receive clotting factor and transfusions. 

Did you hear that?

That, my friends, is hope.  We have high hopes about everyone surviving.  I should be fine.  And most importantly, our baby should be fine.  I have no illusions that the next few months to a year are going to be easy.  On the contrary.  They will be incredibly challenging.  Oh, but we can survive anything together. 

That's what I love about being married to Sam, being in love with Sam, sharing my life with him.  We are a team.  We work through everything together.  We can do this.  Together.

And thank all of you for the love and support during this challenging time.  It has definitely helped me keep my hopes up.  Attitude is everything in these moments.

Dreamers cope with their neurosis

That's where I was at yesterday.

Some days are better than others.  And from the moment I woke on Wednesday, with no doctor appointment to attend, no Doppler to soothe my nerves, and the constant concern that the little one wasn't moving enough, I had trouble dragging myself out of bed.  I knew it was going to be a rough day.

I didn't feel like I was getting enough TLC or understanding from Sam.  It's not the same for him.  He looks at me and thinks that just because I'm okay, she's okay.  And that's not always the case.  I was doing just fine when we discovered that she was virtually out of amniotic fluid.

Sam: What's wrong?

It took me a bit to figure out what was truly bothering me.  I think part of it stems from the overwhelming feelings of hopelessness.  I had just about decided that I could handle this because all I needed to do was last one more week.  I had a plan in place.  And then the doctor I saw Tuesday, not my doctor, explained that because of the amniotic fluid issue, there might not be any lungs to work with.

And here we are getting the crib.  What if we get it and she doesn't live to use it?  What if I have to find a crib a new home and the clothes and odds and ends we have accumulated so far?  What if we never have a baby to fill that room?  Sam said he couldn't go through this again.  He didn't want to risk it...his heart, my life.  And I get it, but it makes me feel all the more desperate for a positive outcome this time.

And I tried to explain all of that to him.  He didn't hear me.  He doesn't want to consider the possibility that Kenna might not make it.  And while I don't either, I like to be prepared.  I like to know what I'm in for so I know what to fight for.

I want them to take heroic and extraordinary measures.  It's not because I want to give birth to some modern medical miracle.  It's because I want to have my little miracle, our daughter.  It's because I don't want to suffer any more loss.  It's because I don't know how much more I can take.

So, I'm not my sunny little self today.  And I'm not sure how the doctor appointment today will go.  And I'm hoping we make it another week.  And I'm hoping I find out there's hope.  All I need is a little something to cling to and carry me through.  Think of us please...

Dreamers find comfort in future dreams

My neighbor, Priscilla, came over with her three girls.  Her youngest is just shy of two months old.  We have dreams of raising our two girls together.  I imagine them in a few years, romping around in the yard together.

I comfort myself with that a lot.

Sure, I could be setting myself up for a big disappointment.  That's what happened last year with our son.  We had all these hopes and dreams, this big imagined future, and only twelve weeks after conception, it was all over.  He simply died in my womb and I was left to have and D&C.  We were left to mourn...on Thanksgiving.

And I don't want to go through that again.

I know none of how life plays out is based on our wants, our deep seeded desires to avoid negative experiences.  I believe that I will never have to face more than I can handle.  At the same time, I constantly discover that it's amazing how much I can handle.

Still, being negative isn't going to make anything better.  I try to stay positive and hope for the best possible outcome.  No matter what, I will be able to look back and know that I did everything possible to bring this little one into the world.  I will have no regrets.

I'm baking this baby with love.  And any child who is this loved and wanted should definitely stick around.  Please, stick around.  We have so much we want to share with you, so much love we want to lavish on you.  All the struggle will be worth it.

Dreamers learn to let it all go

I think this is the hardest part of bed rest.

I have to let Sam do everything.  Sure, on the one hand it sounds great in theory.  You may picture it as me being Cleopatra, waited on hand and foot, being fed grapes by some hot stud.  (Sam is very attractive.)

Ah, but reality isn't exactly like that.  Nope.  See, because that would mean asking to be taken care of.

I'm the nurturer.  I'm the caregiver.  I'm the one who does for him.

When he was in the hospital last January, I was the one picking up the nurses' slack, running to refill his water, getting him food, fluffing his pillow, all that and more.  He didn't have to ask.  I mostly knew what he wanted and I offered before it could feel like an imposition.  That's what I do.

In my experience, guys aren't built that way.

Sure, Sam will get up and offer to get me something while he's up.  He will make and share his ginormous glasses of chocolate milk.  That's pretty special.  And last night, there was a bath.  I waited for the water to cool drastically before I got in.  And I didn't stay in long, but since my hips have been killing me, I thought he was on track, it really might help.

These things we have down.  And he is great at keeping the dishwasher loaded, cleaning some.  It's not the same.  It's all the little detail things I take care of regularly that no one ever thinks about.  I don't want to have to ask him to water all the plants.  I don't want to ask him, but I'm going to have to unless I decide I'm suddenly comfortable going commando, that we need to do a load of laundry.  There are so many little things I see piling up.  And I have to let it all go.

Bed rest is a humbling experience.  It's also a learning experience.  It lets you know if you made the right choice in bed partners.

This time, I did.  He sticks around.  Sure, there are moments that he will visit with a neighbor across the road, or people will come over and they'll hang out and shoot at targets in the back yard.  He runs our errands.  When he had work, he goes.

At the same time, he's here.  He's present.  He's with me.  He understands how this bothers me, laying around on my left side all day.  He doesn't abandon me.  He talks me down when I get worried.

We've realized a few things about our relationship lately.  It's nice having someone who is enough.  We can travel just the two of us and not be bored.  We can be home just the two of us and not need others, but it is nice to have the monotony broken.  We have this teamwork thing down.  And we have a connection that is only more and more evident.

Sam: This is one of the many things I love about you, why we're together.  No one can hold a twig to you.

me: You mean because you can say something completely random and I know exactly what you're talking about?

Sam: Yeah.  Stuff like that.  You know me.  You get me like no one else does.

I do.  And everyone needs that.  So while there are things I'm learning to let go, we're both learning there are things to hang on to...each other.

Dreamers know how to snap out of it

We spent Christmas Eve worrying and with our life on pause.

It's no way to live.  And I think that's why when Christmas day arrived, Sam made an announcement that absolutely exploded us from our funk.

Sam: Enough.  We have spent enough time worrying.  If the baby's doing fine, you'll be on the couch.  If it's not fine, we'll be at the hospital.  No more worrying.  We need to live.

He was right.

So, I laid on my couch.  And I tried to laugh more and smile more and worry less.  It seems to be working.

I still have my moments where I get a little nervous, a little scared, but mostly...I feel better.  It is a bit of a state of mind.  So, mind over matter...I'm going to get better.

Determination.  That's what it is.

I keep waiting to swell, but I'm not.  Fingers crossed.  And the baby is moving like crazy as I write.  And I won't know about my blood pressure or protein until Tuesday, so I'm not going to worry about it.  Every day is a day that increases her chances of survival.  At the moment, I refuse to accept any other possibility.

For now, the funk has ended.  And when it returns...and even then only with good reason...I will have all the love and support I need to get through it.

Dreamers hold tight to hope

It's the night before Christmas.  We were supposed to be at Mawmaw's, but we can't go.  I need to be laying down on my left side all the time.  And the doctor said that if I couldn't just lay on the couch during the gathering, I should stay home.

Sam and I talked about it after I called his father to explain.  I didn't explain very well.  I didn't go into any detail because it all hurts too much.  Ah, but he got the jist of it.  We weren't coming.  He asked Sam if he was coming at least.  And Sam refused.

He won't leave me.

And this is one of the many reasons I love this man.  He knows he has to leave me to go to work.  He knows that he has to leave me to run errands that will keep us in groceries.  But he won't leave me alone on Christmas Eve.

I'm keeping busy, even on bed rest.  It's different from when I was pregnant with Rachel, but of course there were no laptops then.  And I think I pretty much just laid around and watched television.  Sam asked how things were different this time from the other pregnancies.

me: With Rachel, she was always safe.  With Keenan, the minute he was in distress I had an emergency c-section.  This time. it's different.

Sam: You're going to be fine.  I won't let you die.

Somehow I keep forgetting that the doctor is worried about me, too.  I feel fine...for the most part.  I know they keep checking my labs for signs that the pre-eclampsia is taking hold.  The doctor was worried about my blood pressure.  We are now calling my readings perfectly acceptable, since they are higher than normal, but still reasonably good.

She quizzed me on all the signs I need to be watching for.  She knows I know the signs of problems with the eclampsia.  And she quizzed me for signs that there were problems with the baby, too.  And sometimes, I wish I wasn't so smart.  Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

It takes so much more to be calm and happy and hopeful and confident when I know what's going on.  Still, I like to be informed and I wouldn't want it any other way.

But I'm doing my best to stay busy.  I'm doing my best to  stay happy.  I believe in the power of positive thinking.  I'll be thinking tonight of this book that my grandmother had.  I used to read it when I'd spend the night at her apartment.  The title escapes me.  And I'm not sure what happened to it after she and my grandfather passed away.  The entire book takes place on Christmas Eve and it tells the story of a number of people who are all lost and struggling in their own way.  There are Christmas miracles afoot and soon their worlds are all righted.  I just remember one line from it....and on that night, lost things are found again.

So on this night and all nights, I try to remember that anything is possible, miracles do happen, and not to lose hope.  Enjoy your families, feel the love, and never for one moment fail to appreciate the good all around you.  There are blessings everywhere.  Sometimes you just have to look a little harder to see them than others.  

Dreamers believe in miracles

We have to.  If good and unexpected things were impossible, what would there be to dream about.?

So, here's an update.

I spent much of Thursday at the doctors' offices.  Yes, both.

At 8:15am, I had a scheduled appointment with the high risk pregnancy doctor.  And it didn't go well.  There is no amniotic fluid to speak of.  It's too soon to deliver.  And we have to somehow make it a few more weeks before she has a shot at survival.

I did what all mothers do.  I had my cry, then I wiped my tears and put on my game face.  I researched our options.  I scoured the internet for answers.  I am desperate to not lose another baby.

If we do...Sam's giving up.  He doesn't want to try again.  And my heart will be broken.  Otherwise, life will continue as normal.

Then my OB/GYN called.  She wanted me to come in so we could talk.  She had spoken with the other doctor and was worried.

Thus my second visit to the doctor that day.  It was two trips uptown in one day, half an hour each direction, roughly two hours in a car.  And yet these visits have become my entire social life.  Sam said it was good that I had new friends.  I told him I was moving up in the world, since they are all doctors and nurses.  He laughed.

This second visit was serious.  We discussed our options.  Right now...there are none.  I have to make it to 24 weeks so that the baby has a chance.  And we're not sure that's going to happen.  She kept using the word 'stillbirth.'  She offered me a Doppler for use at home over the long weekend.  And she gave me her cell number.  That's never a good sign.

Ah, but I'm ready for my miracle.  I believe in the power of positive thinking.  And somehow, there will be a positive outcome.  Hope and faith.  I cling to them. 

For those of you who keep leaving such warm and loving comments on Facebook, you are very much appreciated.

Dreamers use their imaginations

I just finished having shot four of eighteen.  And while my butt is absolutely burning, I'm trying to think about all the good stuff.  And I'm at that stage when I'm starting to use my imagination.

See, I can feel her moving around.  According to everything I've read, how active the baby is in the womb is a good indicator of how active the baby will be after birth.  We're going to have a mellow baby.  And I need that.

I'm getting too old to run around after a little one.  I've always been too busy to run around after a little one.  I have mellow life.  Such is the life of a writer.  The imagination is part of being a writer, too.

These days, I'm dreaming about what this new daughter of ours is going to be like.  I wonder if she's going to be a ginger like her father or a brunette like I can be...when her father isn't convincing me to go black and blonde.  I wonder if she'll be all creative or athletic.  I wonder if she'll be musical.  I wonder all kinds of things about the life we have in store for her and with her.

As a child of ours, she'll have to like s'mores.  As a child of mine she probably won't have food allergies.  As his daughter, may she love to sleep...all through the night...and take naps.

I have a long way to go.  And though I would love to sit back and imagine, I have to turn that imagination to more important endeavors.  We have a big future to build.  And it isn't going to happen with me just sitting around imagining.  Dreamers have to be doers, too.   We have that covered.

Dreamers prepare for the holidays

Sam is stressing over being able to buy me anything for the holidays.  I don't care.  Really I don't.  I don't know how many times I've tried to explain to him that I have everything I want and need.

Does he not see that having a loving husband and a loving son are enough?  Does he not see that our life together is enough?  Does he not see how happy I am...most of the time?

There are days that the pregnancy hormones kick my butt.  It's true.  There are days that I get tired and worn down.  Who doesn't?  At the same time, I'm thrilled with my life.  I love the possibility.  I have hope that things will improve.  I don't put a deadline on this.

How could I?

Instead, I just keep plugging along.  Even as we struggle, I like this life so much.  Sure, we don't go away all the time like I did with the ex.  It doesn't matter.  I even love staying in with him.  It's nice being happy at home...even as we dream of one day having a beach home.  That's on our list.

So, once again we are looking at a Christmas light on stuff, but heavy on love.  I'm baking with love.  (Yes, I keep baking supplies on hand at all time.)  And I'm cleaning under duress.  (There are way better uses of my time.)  And I'm making this holiday bright with love and laughter and cookies.

We have a family gathering Christmas Eve at Mawmaw's.  I'm looking forward to seeing the family.  And eating.  Family gatherings involve food!  I'm looking forward to coming home Christmas Eve and snuggling into bed.  (He's been super good at that lately.)  And then on Sunday, Keenan will be home for Christmas and the rest of the vacation.

Nothing can ruin this holiday.  Nothing.  It's never been about stuff for me.  It's about being with those I love.  And in that department, I couldn't be more blessed.

Dreamers live for progress

I know I have a lot going on.  Ah, but for those of you who have been reading me any length of time, you know that's just how I am.  I love having lots of projects.

At the moment, I'm focused on having a healthy baby.  So, I try to take care of myself.  That means that I put my feet up a lot.  And if I'm working, it's usually on the computer.  I have to be as productive as possible.  Babies aren't cheap.  They have lots of needs.  Oh, and it will be our job to fulfill them.

Sam is happily at work today.  And I'm happy he is at work today.  I need to the space to get more work accomplished.  Really.  As much as I love having him around in the evenings, when I am trying to get work done during the day and he's busy trying to figure out what I'm working on and interrupting my train of thought, it can be very frustrating.  I have a plan...at all times.  I have goals that are constantly changing and being modified with the situation.

So, I'm hoping that with all the effort I'm putting forth these days, there will be a payoff into the new year.  I'm hoping that lots of readers will join me in the Live the List Challenge.  It's so exciting to watch the sales every day.  It's just starting.  And hopefully once the holidays are over, the sales will grow exponentially.  We need that.  And I'm hoping the efforts put forth on Rentable Me will pay off once we have more SEO done.

Of course, never one to sit and wait around, I have other projects I'm working on.  I have to have more books on the shelves of Amazon.  That means that I have to keep on writing.  And let's face it, my best bet id to get this writing done before the little one arrives.  I'm guessing I have about three months.  I also have about a half dozen partial manuscripts.  Guess that means I have a lot of work ahead of me.

Still, I like that.  If I play my cards right, I may just be able to fund my own maternity leave.  I'll be able to get back in the swing of feedings and changings and nappings...oh my!  And we won't have any money stresses because of the work I've done to prepare.  At least, that's my plan.

So check out the books available on Amazon, please.  And pick up Live the List and join the Challenge.  And if you love my writing style, hire me on Rentable Me.  I love to work.

Dreamers overdo it

Saturday was a huge day for me.  Huge, I tell you.

I managed to publish my latest book, Live the List, on Friday night and discovered it was ready for distribution Saturday morning.  And that meant I had to start driving sales.  To do that, I also changed the price of all my books.  Yes, that should help.  And I wrote a post on Suddenly Single Journey, prepared the Facebook fan page, and the Live the List Challenge.

It was a lot of work, but it was only the beginning.

Then I spoke to Jennie and she told me that she was on the way.  So, I had to clean.  Some.  Sam helped.  He vacuumed for me.  And by the time that was done, I was tired.  Really tired.

Ah, and Jennie hadn't even arrived yet.  Soon she did.  That's when the real fun began.  We had a list of things to do that was the length of my arm.  Jennie had agreed to run to Macy's with us because of an amazing sale.  And we had plans to do the baby registry at Target.  Then we had the Carolina Christmas to attend.  It was going to be a long day.

It really was. 

And I have to tell you, I was really surprised about Sam.  He decided to join me and Jennie on the shopping part.  He was already going to do the Carolina Christmas with us.  I didn't expect that.  In fact, we had discussed that he wasn't really interested in working on the baby registry with me.  He figured I kind of knew all there was about that kind of thing and he was leaving it up to my whims.  I do like that sometimes.

But something changed in him that morning.

He received an email about the sale at Macy's.  And next thing I know, he's looking at baby clothes.  He's helping me pick baby clothes.  And he's talking about buying some baby clothes.  With the holiday sales and the fact that there was an additional 20% off for using his card, it meant some serious bargain shopping.

Next thing you know, Sam is with us shopping at Macy's and completing the baby registry.  I think even he was a little surprised about it.  And Jennie was impressed.

Jennie: None of my guys like shopping.

Sam really enjoys shopping.  And he participated in our shopping experience.  It was great.  He was funny and sweet and supportive.  He was enthusiastic.  He offered opinions about the various outfits.  And I have to tell you, it was nice having his input.

He even found the perfect rocking chair.  He has decided that if he's going to have to rock the little one to sleep, he's going to be comfortable.  So, he tried out some rockers while we worked on the registry.  And he made a few simple requests...frog towels...that I was more than happy to oblige.  He lifted down the perfect stroller.  It's a car seat and stroller made by Safety First.  It works with babies as little as 4 pounds.  That matters for me.  We'll be having a preemie.

All I know is that the day was painless and fun.  The evening was even better.  By the time it was over, we had managed to wear me out.  I was so stiff and sore I could barely move.  That was all reason Sam needed to massage me.  I loved it.  He spoils me.  And I think part of the reason he does is because I appreciate him so much.

Sometimes I push myself too hard.  It all works out.  And I probably needed the exercise.

Dreamers delight in alone time

Is it wrong that I get happy when Sam leaves for work?  Because lately, I do.  Don't get me wrong.  I love having him around.

Mostly.

There are just times that it bothers me.  I don't really need him sitting there staring at me from the other end of the couch while I try to write.  I don't really want to have to explain constantly what I am writing about or why I'm working on the novel when he thinks I should be doing something more productive...like writing SEO articles for one of our companies.

And sure.  Maybe he's right.  Maybe in the end I will discover this was another frivolous waste of my time.  It could be.  I haven't exactly hit the jackpot from my writing efforts to date.  At the same time, I haven't done a lot of marketing.  I always seem to have about a hundred other things going on all at the same time.

I need to fix that.

And somehow, I think that can only be fixed by his absence.  Yup.  Thank goodness he has some work.  I need the quiet time to do my work.  I need the space to get things done.  I need to be free to write or sit and think.

If I stop tapping on the keys for a moment, he asks me if I have writer's block.  I don't sit in front of a computer with writer's block.  I learned long ago that I need to go off and do something else, think, or not think and the words will come.

The books will get finished.  I'm setting us up for great things in 2012.  And I hope you'll join me in the optimism I have for an amazing year.  I believe it.  I really do.  We're going to have an amazing year.  It seems like every year gets better and more challenging.  I thrive on it.

So...yes, I feel a little guilty I'm so happy he's gone...for now.  I will like him more when he gets home.  I'll like him even better when he we snuggle on the couch tonight and I feel all accomplished.

And tomorrow...Jennie comes.

Dreamers deal with life's changes

There are so many changes lately.  Sam can't sleep.  Which means I can't sleep.  And yet we're doing amazingly well not being cranky with each other.

Last night, he looked at me and asked about going to bed early.  We're talking 10:30pm.  For us, that's early.  And exhausted as I was, I gladly agreed to go.

It takes me a bit to settle in, find a comfortable position.  And Sam is incredibly patient, even though I'm blocking the television and keeping us up.  He doesn't settle in until I do.

At about 1am, I woke to him leaving the room.  And he didn't come back until 4am.  I checked on him once.  He was asleep on the couch.  And my need to have him sleeping close made me want to climb over his legs and join him, but I decided to let him sleep.

When he finally came back to bed, I snuggled against him and simply breathed, "I missed you," against his chest.  And that was the last we spoke until I urged him to turn off the alarm at 7am.

Later, however, we discussed that he isn't sleeping well...and its impact on the rest of us.

We agreed that he may need to consider taking some sleeping pills.  He can't turn off his mind so that he can really rest.  And that's a problem.  And we talked about the fact that the room is hot and I am hot and it makes him feel like he's boiling...so we're problem solving some solutions for that, too.

Somehow, we'll get this all worked out.  In the meantime, I am working as hard and as fast as I can to get it all together.  I think the ebb in money stresses will help greatly.  And I think he worries some over the pregnancy.  Maybe more than some.  All I know is that the baby is still kicking, and so am I.

Dreamers get ready for company

It's only Wednesday.  And Jennie and George aren't coming until Saturday.  Oh, but it may take me the rest of the week to get the house ready.

I'm ready.

And we bathed Bishop the other day, so he's ready.

And Sam always looks good.  Don't tell him I said that.  It will go straight to his head and I swear some days he's hard enough to live with.

Ah, but the house.  Crap.

I swear I just vacuumed.  I know I did.  And yet Bishop hair is everywhere.  And I know I didn't dust, but that's because it kind of got all out of order and I just thought...who cares.  Because at the moment, I didn't.

This tree has added responsibilities I never imagined.  I have to water the freakin' thing daily.  And Sam said he'd race me to the kitchen so that he could water it, on account of I look ridiculous trying to slither under the tree with this belly, and there's a distinct possibility that one day I might just not make it out...oh, but he was at a crawl, playing with his zoo on his phone while walking.  And even me, with my obvious challenges in mobility, beat him to the pitcher.

So, the house needs a good cleaning.  The guest bed is made.  And a quick dusting and vacuuming will make it all right.  Keenan cleaned his bathroom last night...after much instruction and even more attention.  What kind of question is this?

Keenan: Mom, why don't I have a toilet brush in my bathroom?

me: We threw the old one out when we redid the bathroom.  I didn't buy a new one because we only use it once a week so it's not like we couldn't share.

And in all honesty, the way I have to clean behind him, it's not like it needed to be super convenient for him anyway.  Grr.

Oh, but, yay!  Jennie and George are coming.  We have plans.  We have fun stuff to do.  We're using my free blogger admission ticket to Carolina Christmas.  And we'll be petting animals, checking out lights, viewing tons of decorated trees, and making S'mores.  Note how I always save the best for last.  Yay, S'mores!  I doubt they will be as good as my secret recipe.  I may have to bring more chocolate to make up for that.  These things can be fixed.

The cleaning will be worth it.  The visit is long overdue.  And so is the fun and relaxation.  By then, it will only be a week until Christmas.  Ouch.

Dreamers see magic everywhere!

The last few days have been super special.

I had a momentary panic when I was expecting money from a company, but the money never arrived.  I was pretty much counting on it to pay bills.  There are always bills and there isn't always money.

So, when I contacted the company and asked when the money might arrive, I discovered it in the mail box later that day.

Magic.
 

And while I know I'm supposed to have this voracious appetite because I'm eating for two and all, I haven't yet.  Nope.  Not even a little bit.

Then there was yesterday.  The appetite hit full force.  I couldn't get enough food.  I ate two apples.  I ate a bowl of cereal.  I ate a twelve inch Subway sandwich.  I barely chewed the granola bar.  (So, it's not like I'm eating super unhealthy...)  Oh, not all in one sitting, either.  This was over the course of the day... And then, just when I was thinking I would find nothing to satisfy the food urges, a package arrived in the mail.

My mother sent all the Christmas presents already.  She's amazing like that.  When I grow up, I hope I can be that organized.

And in that package...homemade peanut butter balls.  They are the best magic ever.

I can bake.  I can cook.  I have not even attempted to make these, even though I have the recipe, even though I've watched her do it dozens of times through the years.  I don't think I have the skill or patience.

Ah, but magic.

Magic is like finding moments of happiness for me.

It seems fitting.  I just read a post that T put up on Facebook.  It rings so true.  It's all about what happy people do differently.  Why they really are happy.  And I'm doing pretty well.  Check it out. 

It gave me areas for improvement.  It reminded me of what I'm doing right.  And it's the kind of thing I want to share with all those I know and love.  So...enjoy it.  And embrace it.  And live it.  Be happy.

Sometimes dreamers just have to vent

I love my husband.  No one would ever doubt that.  Everyone he knows, everyone he meets, just about everyone he interacts with tells him I love him.  I guess I just exude how I feel.  That's who I am.  And while it gives him the roots and wings he needs in our relationship, there are still moments where he just ticks me off.

Take the last few nights.

Right now...sleep is at a premium.  I need to get all I can while I can because before you know it, it will be a whole lot of sleeplessness going on.  I will be up doing feedings.  I will be doing tons of baby care and there will be a struggle to balance it all with working from home.  I look forward to it.  You know how I love a challenge.  And babies are the best kind of challenge I know.

So, Sam hasn't been sleeping.  He gets all worked up about life and all worried and then he can't turn his mind off.  He will nap, here and there, but then he can't get back to sleep.  And the little co-dependent that I am, I can't sleep without him there.  I fall asleep on the couch some nights while we snuggle and watch television.  I fall asleep happily in bed and rest, truly rest, with him there.  We touch constantly, so his absence is felt acutely.  And lately, I have been roused from my sleep because he's gone.  He'll be in the living room watching television at 3am or on the computer hoping to find work.  And I'll be awake, nearly bereft due to his insomnia.

It's caused some issues.

I snapped on him.  I even raised my voice about his stupid zoo game on his phone and how he can't sleep because he plays it non-stop and that he would sleep if he weren't distracted by the television and that he really just sucks for leaving me in bed while he hangs out in the living room.  Or something like that.

It didn't help.

He didn't get more sleep.  He did, however, work really hard to make it all up to me.  He knows I'm tired.  He knows I'm cranky.  And he's doing his best to make me happy.

I see it.  I know.

And so while I made breakfast, I discovered that he had already taken out the garbage, sprayed the can, and inserted a new bag.  These are all critical steps.  It matters.

And during breakfast, he snuggled me on the couch and watched a show with me and Keenan that he's never had any interest in.  Here's my plug for Once Upon A Time.  Check it out!

And before he left for the day, we set up the train set under the tree and played with Bishop.  He hugged me an extra long time and said sweet sweet things to tide me over until his return.

Ah, but best of all, when I went to go take my shower, I discovered that he had already made the bed, my way, not his.  (I take the time to fold down the blanket and fluff the pillows, he merely pulls it up any old way and leaves the pillows a mess.  I'm such a girl.)

So, I was mad.  I'm not any more.  How could I be?  And I know that my being upset is unreasonable.  It all comes down to...yes, the need for sleep, but also the need for the TLC.  He comforts me.  He's home to me.  And I treasure our sleepy time together.  It was just last night that I about crawled into him and reminded him that everything was going to change in a few months.  It's going to go fast.  It always does.

Time.

That's why I try not to waste it being angry.  And that's why he tries to keep me happy.  Thankfully, I'm not so stubborn that I don't see there are other ways he gives me the TLC I crave.  I am blessed.  Sleep will come.

Dreamers decorate their life

I love Christmas.  I love decorating the house for the holidays. 

When I grew up, my one desire was to have a fireplace and a mantel for hanging stockings.  To mean, the hearth is the heart of the home.  I guess I'm really old fashioned at heart. 

So one of the features that really does make this my dream home...the fireplace.  I love it.  And I really love it decorated.

This year...a real tree.

And I have already discovered the pros and cons of a real tree.  On the one hand, I love that the house smells like tree.  It is so nice to have the scent of it lingering in the living room.  I think it looks so pretty with all the white lights on it. 

Ah, but there's a dark side to trees.  I am having to vacuum way more than I ever wanted to.  In fact, I don't think I've had to vacuum this much since Bishop was a puppy.  And there's the constant watering.  Every day.  Sometimes twice.  So...you'd think there would be less needles dropping, right?

Still, I cherish this last month of every year where the house goes out with a bang, just like the year.  I love our lit garland mantle.  I love the warm cozy.  And I'll treasure every minute of the next few weeks until we de-decorate and burn the tree.

Dreamers make great contacts

 For all people say about Twitter, I have to tell you, it's worked out pretty well for me.

I met a woman on Twitter in the fall who asked me to answer some questions for an article she was writing.  It was about women who work with they husbands and how that all played out.  As you know, Sam and I have been working together for years now in various capacities.  I've always helped him with his work one way or another.  Now, I get a title and everything.  The business line rings through to my phone and I get to make all kinds of important decisions.  All by myself.

So, I gladly responded to her call for information.  It was nice chatting with her and we soon realized that she lived just over the border in South Carolina, maybe fifteen minutes from me.  Naturally, I suggested we meet up.  That's the kind of risk taker I am.

Well, we finally managed to hook up for breakfast at Panera last month before Thanksgiving.  And we have kept in touch via email and Twitter.  And yesterday we met at Panera again.

She's a women's business consultant, which works well, since I am a woman in business.  We have a lot in common.  One of the best things is that we both want to help each other succeed.  She has an already successful business, while I am still starting out. 

What I love about working with Eileen of Sleeve Shirt Consulting, LLC, is that she is so positive and helpful.  She knows her business and she's great at helping others achieve their goals.  We have plans to meet again soon.  In the meantime, check out Eilleen and visit my new revamped business site: Rentable Me.  It's designed to help you find the business outsourcing solution you need and the marketplace for you to find work in your field.

Let me know if you have any questions.  I'm here to help.

Dreamers talk it out

I had somehow forgotten how seriously Sam takes all of our talks.  It's not that he says so much in the moment.  It's that he ruminates on what we discuss.  He truly takes it to heart.

Then it all comes out.

Over the years, I have done more to change him by recounting stories than I could ever hope to from nagging.  And he still likes me.  I've learned to be very cautious in my disclosures, what I say and how I say it.

Guess that's why it took me so long to tell him what the test results meant yesterday.  I didn't want to make him worry.  At the same time, he needed to know.

So, I broke down and told him when he looked relaxed and ready to cope with the bomb I was dropping.  I stood back and slowly explained everything, answered all his questions.  And waited for him to wrap his mind around it, understand everything.

It's hard for Sam to accept that there is nothing that can be done, really.  It's hard for him to accept that there is no medication for this, no treatment, no prevention.

me: The only cure is for me not to be pregnant anymore.

And I thought we were good.  I thought he understood...until we talked in the morning.

Sam: So I had this dream last night...

Here we go.

Apparently, in his dream I swelled up like the girl who turned into a blueberry in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  He had to wheel me around until I gave birth.

Sam: I'm thinking about you, baby.

I know he is.  And I love that.  I love him.

Somehow we'll work through all his fears.  We'll make it through the rest of the pregnancy.  It will all turn out just fine.  He's mentally preparing in his own crazy way.

Dreamers try to keep a chin up

 The phone call that I was waiting for from the doctor's office about my latest test results have come back.  And pardon this meandering post.  I'm trying to work through a few things right now.

See, on the one hand, this is the best pregnancy I've had to date.  And part of that I credit with Sam taking such good care of me.  Part of it I credit with how well I take care of myself.  The rest I credit with being able to work from home, which is far less stress than I was under for the other pregnancies.

That's enough parts.

When we found out we were having a girl, I was pleased and amazed.  I mean, it seemed like I was doing too well compared to any other girl pregnancies I had ever had.  I wasn't sick at all.  I was used to having all day sickness and being completely miserable.  Not this time.  Other than the occasional headache and the periodic discovery that some foods simply did not agree with me, I was doing great.  No nausea.  No vomiting.  No debilitating epigastric pain.  Practically perfect.

About the test results.  They showed elevated fetal protein levels.  At first I worried about Down's syndrome, but they assured me that my risk for that was still 1 in 7000 and there had been no physical indications of problems on the ultrasounds.  The elevated levels sometimes mean a problem with spina bifida, but again, there were no indications on the ultrasound, so that left one thing.

I am working on pre-eclampsia again.

Sam: What does that mean?

I did my best to explain it to him.  It wasn't easy.  I never like worrying him.

me: Well, the shots are to keep the baby in, so I don't go into premature labor.  With pre-eclampsia, we have to find a balance.  When I get this, the only cure is for me to have the baby so that the disease doesn't progress to the final stage.

Sam: What's the final stage?

me: Oh, that would be seizures, coma, death.

Sam: You've had the seizures before. 

me: I know.  See this disease is complicated by the fact that when it gets severe, the blood stops clotting.  I couldn't have an emergency c-section because I would have bled out.  I had to be induced. 

Sam: If it comes down to a choice between you and the baby, it's you.  It's always you.  You know?  And I'll watch you really closely.  What can we do?

The problem is that there is nothing that can be done.  This will progress.  It won't matter what I do.  I can watch my salt.  I can try to relax.  I can lay around as much as possible whenever necessary.  That can help some, but really...it's out of our hands.  The best we can do is be vigilant and aware.

I've been saying it the entire pregnancy...I don't want to end up hospitalized or on bedrest.  I don't want to give birth dangerously early.

So what's the plan?

Now I have to keep going to the high risk pregnancy doctor the rest of the pregnancy along with my regular OB/GYN.  I will continue to have shots.  My cervix will be measured repeatedly.  We will prepare for a circlage, if necessary.  My blood pressure will be taken very seriously.  We'll watch for all the signs, every headache, every bit of fluid, any indications of swelling.  And I will be having a premature baby.  How premature is still up in the air.  I had been guessing March all along.  The doctor had said 37 weeks, which meant the first week of April.  We'll see.

There are some good parts.  And you know me, I have to focus on that.  For one, I am getting better care in every way than I ever have before.  Between Sam and the two OB/GYNs. I should be great.  And girl preemies do better.  Studies have shown.  Research has proven.  Kenna should be just fine.

Dreamers celebrate in quiet style

Today is officially Sam's birthday.

Yes, he's now thirty-one and I'm seven months from thirty-ten.  *sigh*

Ah, but here's how we celebrated his day on Saturday...

We went to the massage school and had massages with Lonnie and Lindsay.  Everyone but Sam has had numerous massages.  And I'm pretty sure I'm the most spoiled one of the bunch.  The ex husband kept me flush with massages.  Apparently I'm easier to be with when I'm relaxed.  And as stressed as that man made me...well, you get the idea.  Hence, my plethora of massages through the years.

So, Sam didn't really know what to expect.  He had some requests.  He wanted a girl.  Actually, he INSISTED upon a girl.  There's no way he was going to be comfortable with some guy rubbing on him.  And I wanted his first experience to be good, so when we arrived and I discovered that he was set up for a guy therapist, I took one for the team and had a girl while Lindsay switched with him to get a guy like she wanted.

I wanted him to be comfortable.  And in all honesty, I wasn't sure knowing that his pregnant wife was getting rubbed down by some guy was going to help with that.  I'm a really good wife.

We all were taken back at different times and since this is a school and not a spa, the room is set up with curtains that mostly close.  I was able to walk by and see him lying on the table in his jeans, no shirt, not under the covers.  It was cute.  I'm not sure if he ever took those jeans off.  Since the request was that we undress to our comfort level, and since he is wound tighter than the proverbial drum, probably not.

I, however, dropped everything but my panties, laid under the blanket, and waited for it all to begin.  They didn't have a pregnancy table so I had to lay on my sides, rather than simply get to drop my belly into the hole.  It wasn't easy, since these tables are small and with the belly, I'm not.

In other news, the baby loved the massage.  She rolled around and poked me here and there.  We had much fun relaxing together.  And every once in a while I would hear Sam or Lonnie in another part of the room.  It was cute.

The plan was to go post massage to lunch.  No worries.  We hit a restaurant that Sam and I used to frequent, but have since had to taper off with on account of...we're poor.  It was Longhorn for lunch with Lonnie and Lindsay.

And this birthday was so much better than the last when we were still mourning our loss.  And I was drugged up on pain meds.  And we weren't in the mood to celebrate anything.

This time we ate and laughed and joked.  Good times.  And unlike the day before, one of my crying at the drop of a hat days, we had a really great time.  I didn't shed a single tear.  Oh, but I wanted to.  I wanted to cry for the good we were experiencing, even if Sam isn't so quick to see it.

We don't need big parties.  We don't need alcohol.  We just need some quality time with those we love.  That's how we roll.

Dreamers make headway

Today.  Today there are true signs of progress. 

It took long enough.

It's so hard when you have the dream all figured out, but just can't quite seem to get there.  Yesterday was a huge fat waste of a day.  I almost brought the laptop thinking that I could get some work done in between all the waiting, but I let Sam talk me out of it.  Big mistake.  Huge mistake.  And it's costing me today...and most likely for the rest of the weekend. 

I have twelve articles to write today.  And I have a product to ship UPS.  And I have some writing to do for the new site.  And I have more paperwork to complete for NACA in an effort to modify our loan.  And if I think really hard, I'm sure I can find about a dozen more things to do.  Actually, with my Swiss cheese brain, I'm probably already forgetting something. 

Bear with me. 

All I know is that for the first time in a long time, I am in the black.  Yup.  My bank account is good.  I'm so happy.  And I may even have a few bucks to spend on the holiday this year.  We'll see.  Big change from last year.

And part of the reason that I am feeling so encouraged is because of the website progress made.  I met with my guru on Wednesday afternoon.  It was...eventful.  Both if his girls were there, but his wife was still working.  So there were plenty of distractions.  They are so cute that I was mostly kept giggling.  And I couldn't help but think about the little girl I'm carrying, of course.  What will she be like?

We made progress on the website.  He hooked me up with a word program.  And I just felt all kinds of productive and ready to go.  I managed to get so much done...even at home.  I installed the printer on my computer.  It's more challenging when all I have on the laptop are USB ports.  So, I have to come up more creative ways of locating the programs I need.  I'm learning.

There have been more emails about the site from the guru.  Looks like we could have it up in no time.  And that's a good thing since people are already looking for ways to make a little extra cash.  I'm here to help.  It's a mutually beneficial relationship. 

More to follow.  Progress is good.

Dreamers can't stay mad for long

I woke up at about 5:30am to the bedroom light being on, and Sam talking to me.  And my first instinct was to respond to his questions.  I don't even remember what they were now.  My first thought was...

me: Why is the bedroom light on?

Sam: I have to get ready.  I have to make some money.

me: Yes. That I get.  What I don't get is why the bedroom light is on.

We had just gone to bed at 1:30am.  He couldn't get tired.  A product of over thinking.  Part of me wanted to get mad.  He'd be mad at me if he was awakened a good hour before he had to get up.  He'd huff and he'd puff.  Me, I just laid there and stared at the ceiling.

Sam: I'm ready now.  Want the light off?

me: Nope.  It's too late now.

So, I woke up.  I started to get ready.  I made breakfast with Keenan.  We ate and watched our show.  But I couldn't stop thinking about how my life has changed.  I can barely get mad at Sam, let alone stay mad at Sam. 

And maybe it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm a dreamer.  Maybe instead it has to do with how much I love him.  Because I do love him so very much.  Very very very much.

And I don't know if I can adequately express how much I love him, but I'll try.  It's such a new and different experience for me.  Really.

In my first marriage, I would get so upset that I would just stay mad.  And I wrapped myself in all that hurt and disappointment to protect my heart.  And I never allowed myself to love.  Oh, I loved my children.  I gave them everything.  So, we ended up divorcing and I married Sam.

Then there's how life is with Sam.  It's not perfect, but we always work through everything.  And a big part of it is that I can't stay mad at him.  And he hates when I'm mad at him to begin with.

We want to be happy.  And we want to work through things.  And we want this life we're building together.

I think I can't stay mad at him because of the love.  And I try not to be mad at all because I don't want an angry tense baby.  And I honestly simply don't have it in me to get upset with him like I used to with the ex.  It has to be the love.  There is no other explanation.

To say I'm analytical would be a gross understatement.  To say I'm introspective would be another.  So I have examined and analyzed this to death.  In the end, all I came up with was how much I love him.  Sometimes I worry that if he truly understood how much, it would scare him.  That much love comes with a whole lot of responsibility.  Then there was last night.  He rubbed my belly and told the baby how much he loves it.  And then he looked me in the eye.

Sam: I love the baby's vessel, too.  I really do.  And I just want to make the home of your dreams.

He worries about that, about giving me the best, making sure I know I'm loved.

me: Know what my dream home is?

Sam: What?

me: Anywhere with you.

We have issues.  We have stress.  We love each other through it.  That's the best anyone can do.