Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Not Exactly a Day in the Life Summer 2017

TMI Warning:  Childbirth with all its beautifully nasty details are discussed in depth.  Enter at your own risk!

Date:               Friday July 7, 2017

Key Players:   Pleasantly plump pregnant lady (39 weeks, 1 day)
                        Basketcase of a dad-to-be
                        Excited big brother-to-be
                        Bunny (arrived the day before)

Setting of the scene:  For the past few weeks, Mr. William had been quite the acrobat.  He flipped from breech to head-down four times, completely on his own.  Surely an Olympic gold is in his future.  On Wednesday of this week, I had an OB appointment where my doctor decided it best to induce on Friday before this crazy guy went breech again.  Induction appointment scheduled for Friday at 4pm.  OMG, this is happening!  It's really happening!  During the appointment, she also stripped my membranes.  If you've never experienced that delight, just imagine someone being elbow-deep in your reproductive tract and then punching the inside of your uterus.  Highly recommend.  But in any case, I do believe that little gem of a technique works for me.  It sent me into labor with JDub, and I also started having very mild contractions with William later this night.  Milder than menstrual cramps continue off and on all day Thursday and Friday, accompanied by that super yummy slimy mucousy bloody discharge.  And for all of you throwing up in your mouth right now, let me redirect you to that TMI warning above, hehe.  Keep reading ... if you dare.

Friday, July 7th
2:00 pm  I am all showered fresh and purdy for the big event.  Some jittery nerves have set in, but I'm actually mostly excited.  I cannot wait to meet this little miracle, and my fear of reliving JW's traumatic delivery have lightened.  I've basically come to an acceptance that childbirth sucks.  However it happens -- natural, with drugs, c-section, or whatever else -- it will be painful, and there will be a recovery.  So let's do this!  The appointment isn't until 4:00, but I am anxious to go ahead and go.  Brian, Jonathan, Bunny and I pile into the car and head toward the hospital.

3:00 pm  Arrive at Kaiser, and it's hotter than hades outside.  Like melt your face off hot.  113 degrees, to be precise.  We walk into the hospital, and there goes my freshly showered thing.  Just the walk across the parking lot has me sweating profusely.  Since we have some time to kill, we head toward the oncology ward in hopes of visiting Dr. Fu, who treated Brian's cancer in 2008.  I am fighting back tears through all the elevators and hallways, reminiscing about all the trauma that ensued 9 years ago and that today (literally today), this 9-year chapter of life will finally be over.  And over in such a happy wonderful way.  So surreal yet so emotional.  We make our way to Dr. Fu's office and try to finagle a drop-in appointment.  The secretary seems enthusiastic and hopeful, but after a 15 minute wait for the doctor, she reports he is too busy to visit.  Bummer.  But not too surprised.  I bet he has no memory of Brian.  Normally, it would be somewhat sad or rejecting to be forgotten, but in the world of cancer treatment, I suppose it's good to be forgotten by your oncologist.  Anyway, we move on through the hospital, having killed a little time.

3:30 pm  Arrive at labor & delivery.  We walk in all smiley, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed and are greeted by several nurses at the reception desk who give us looks like "who are you, and why are you bothering us?"  One of them is extra feisty and barks there are no available beds right now, and she'll call us when they're ready for us.  Wut?  Huh?  Head shake.  No no no, you don't understand, girlfriend.  I have an appointment.  Uh-POINT-ment.  She explains that all this 100+ degree heat is putting people into labor, and they have more triage situations than usual.  She'll call us when there's an open bed.  U-to-the-G-to-the-H!  Damn it, I was all mentally prepared to do this thing.  Stay calm, Laura, stay calm.  It'll probably be an hour or two, but this will still happen soon.  We all hem and haw about what to do.  Stay?  Go?  Kill time somewhere else?  Traffic is awful, so we can't go anywhere too far.  If we go somewhere, it must be indoors because of the heat.  Oh, and we have a 5 year-old in tow.  So it must be somewhat kid friendly. We decide to go get food.

4:00 pm  Arrive at the Habit for burgers.  It is unbelievably hot outside.  Like Baghdad hot.  Just getting in and out of the car is brutal.  We order some food, and it's exceptionally tasty.  Super mild contractions with yummy ooey gooey mucus crap discharging throughout all this.  J is getting a bit restless.  Heck, we're all restless.  I really want to get this show on the road, and I'm getting worried that the appointment could be pushed back to tomorrow.  Not only would that be a giant tease, but I've been hoping this boy might get the coolest birthdate ever (7-7-17).  Pushing the appointment to tomorrow would obviously foil that little plan.  Dang it, why haven't they called yet?  B pushes me to stalk and harass them; no waiting around for them.  But I am hesitant to bother them since they were already annoyed.  Will this be like irritating a waitress, who then spits in your food?  But I really want this appointment to happen today, so I reluctantly agree to call in the car.

5:00 pm  We sit in the scorching hot car with a/c blasting in our faces.  My heart is beating faster as the phone rings.  Please let me talk to someone nice, please let it be someone nice.  Ahh, it's Tiffany, the feisty one.  Yay.  She is super crabby and snaps at me that she still has no open beds.  B pushes me to ask about switching hospitals.  What about Fontana?  What about Moreno Valley?  Can we go there?  She snaps that those are not options because they're not sister hospitals with Riverside.  Whatever that means.  Ok, then can you patch me through to my doctor?  She's not here.  Huh?  It's 5:00, and my appointment was scheduled for 4:00.  Why isn't she there?  Oh she never arrives until 5:30.  Gat dang, this whole thing is getting to me.  I am so frustrated, yet I'm paranoid about a pissy waitress spitting in my food.  So I apologize for bothering her and explain that I am just anxious to get in today and am worried the appointment will be pushed to tomorrow.  She seems to soften up a bit.  A tiny bit.  She says she understands and will call us at 5:30 with an update.  We hem and haw about what to do for 30 more minutes.

5:10 pm  Arrive at a nearby Walgreens and offer to find Jonathan a prize for being such a great sport about all this.  Wander the toy isle for what seems an eternity.  Super mild contractions continue through all this, and my undies are nice and disgusting by now.  Sick.  Time really seems to stand still.  We agree that we'll stay local until the next phone update.  If they still don't have beds at that time, we'll head home and give up for today.  My nerves are really getting up there, but I work hard to contain them.  I do not want to relive the emotional roller coaster of induction with no available beds drama that happened at JW's birth.  I don't want JW to sense that anything is wrong, and I don't want to let myself be discouraged.  It takes an eternity and a day, but J finally decides on a baseball toy that he wants as his prize.  Phew. 

5:30 pm  Arrive back at Kaiser, ready to wait for this supposed phone call.  We're all doubtful that Miss Tiffany sourpuss attitude will even call.  But sure enough, my phone rings at 5:33.  My heart races.  Oh dear Lord, let her have good news.  Hi Hun, this is Tiffany.  Ok we can get you in at 6:00 today.  Or 6:15.  Well, probably 6:00.  Ok?  OMG yes!  OK!  Thank you thank you thank you!  Ahhh, relief.  This is happening.  It's really happening.  We kill a few minutes in the car, playing with J's new baseball toy.  I am so distracted, though, I can barely fake anything playful.  At some point in there, B takes J to the bathroom.  Bunny and I chat for a moment in the car.  She offers prayers of thanks for this sweet baby and a safe delivery.  It's a tender time, and I'm beginning to get more emotional about what is about to ensue.  It's now close to 6:00.  I am wanting to sprint upstairs to the L&D floor, but my giant belly, goo-filled undies, and continued heat from hell prevent me from doing so.  Yeah, I can't move that fast.  But it's finally time for B and me to say goodbye to Bunny and our first miracle sweetheart.  Our first baby has been so good through all this nonsense.  And saying goodbye to him suddenly hurts.  We lock eyes, but I can't get any words out.  The next time I see him, life will be different.  And I don't want him to be afraid to be separated from us tonight.  I muster out some I love yous and goodbyes, and we both shed tears.  My heart is hurting.  I want this life change so badly, yet I will miss my life with only J terribly.  I am excited.  I am terrified.  The frog in my throat is intense.  I don't want to scare this sweet boy.  Pull it together, Laura.  Pull it together.  Mama loves you so much, sweetheart.  You have some great dreams tonight, and I can't wait to see you in the morning with baby William.  That will be so wonderful!  We part ways, and I tearfully walk into the hospital with my love toting all our overnight stuff by my side.

6:00 pm  Arrive at labor & delivery. During our short walk up here, B and I have mentally prepared for another waiting game.  But to our shock, they shuffle us into a room without any delay.  Good lord, this is happening.  Omg. Don't think about it.  Don't freak out.  Get stripped down and into an awesome hospital gown.  Assess the room situation.  B and I have nervous jitters.  But I'm mostly excited at this point.  Let's do this!  My doctor arrives and greets us in her usual friendly way.  We exchange some comments about the delay and confusion, and everyone is excited to move forward.  She checks me, which is an absolute joy.  Pause, not. Why does that have to hurt so bad?  Even with the experience of childbirth in my history, that lil ole cervical check still hurts like a mother.  She declares I'm already dilated to a 3.  Yay!  So all those tiny cramps and nasty discharge may have been productive!  She decides while she's all up in my business that she'll do another membrane sweep.  Holy mother of God!  Blasted hell, she strips the shit out of whatever membranes are up there, and it hurts like an absolute nightmare!  B and I are both cringing through all that, and the doctor is all enthusiastic.  You're doing great!  Let's get some pit going, and I'll wait to see about breaking your water until later.  And you wanted an epidural, right?  Oh heck yeah.  Ok, since you're already at a 3, you can get that whenever you want.  Are you serious?  Sure, why not?  Ok this is excellent.  Let's just do it now, then.  Sure thing!  Wow, I can't even imagine having a baby with basically no labor pains.  She leaves, and some nurses are in and out with questions.


7:00 pm  Anesthesiologist arrives with an epi cart.  Oh, be still, my heart.  He is very chatty and friendly through the whole thing.  It's so different this time around.  I'm just sitting on the edge of the bed, facing Brian, we're all three talking and laughing.  No pain.  No contractions.  Unlike last time, where I was about to come out of my own skin with the pain while the anesthesiologist coached me in breathing so I would hold still.  Wow, this is the way to have a baby.  He's done.  Time to lounge around and wait.  I slowly start to feel my legs getting heavy.  Tingly.  Weird.  Wow I feel weird.  Like on the verge of panic weird.  My legs.  I'm all about a pain-free delivery, but since I felt fine before the epi, I'm now feeling out of control with the numbness.  With J's, the numbness was such a relief.  This doesn't feel like relief though.  Just weird.  I'm fighting off panic.  Lots of panic.  I'm not used to this.  Is this what a panic attack feels like at the beginning?  Jeez I don't want to lose control.  Pull it together, Laura.  Pull it together.  Nurses are in and out through all this, asking about my legs.  I let someone know I'm feeling very panicky.  Oh it's probably just the numbness.  Your heart rate is ok, sweetie, and the baby is doing great.  You'll feel better in a minute.  Ok.  Take her word for it.  Please, brain, take her word for it.  Slowly, I become completely numb from the waste down, and the panic does subside.  Phew.

9:00 pm  Dr. Chou does another lovely cervical check, which I thankfully cannot feel at all.  Ahh, check away, doctor!  Well, you're still at a 3.  But that's fine.  The pitocin is titrated up, so it sometimes takes a while to get things going.  I bet by 4 or 5 am things will be different, wink.  Aww, I start letting go of my hope to have a baby on 7-7-17.  Darn.  But not a huge darn at this point.  Just a small darn, as I'm just wanting him to be here safely.  B and I chat through these hours.  We put on a Seinfeld re-run and pay no attention to it.  Nurses are in and out, flipping me from one side to another and cramming a peanut ball between my knees.  They are so kind and friendly.  Seriously, L&D nurses (with the exception of Miss Tiffany) are just angelic.  I share with them my fears and concerns about re-living a traumatic delivery.  They are so sensitive and supportive and offer tons of reassurance that this time will be better.  I desperately want to believe them.  At some point, I realize that I should be believing them because aside from those few moments of near-panic, this has been a breeze compared to last time.  Ok Laura, believe them.  Believe them.  This will work out fine.  Everything will go ok.  Just relax.  The hours tick by.  More chats.  At some point, I surprisingly doze off.

Saturday July 8th
12:30 am  Ka-POW!  JOLT!!  Oh dear god, what was that?!?!  Omg I am jolted from this doze by the most powerful POW.  Not painful, just POW!  What was that?!  My heart is pounding out of my chest, and I could run a marathon with this adrenaline.  Forget the epidural and numb legs.  I am shaken by this massive jolt, and my heart is beating out of my chest.  I swear I even heard the jolt, whatever it was.  Brian.  Brian!  Wake up!  Something happened.  My voice is shakey with all this adrenaline.  Something happened.  Call the nurse.  I don't know what happened, but I think my water may have broken?  Within a few seconds, a new nurse comes in and confirms that yep, the water broke.  She cleans me up a bit and checks me.  Dilated to 6.  Ok good!  I've calmed down a bit and am happy to hear the ole cervix is opening up.  The nurse explains that labor will probably start going faster from here on, and just call her if I start feeling any pressure.  Like pressure in my bottom.  Ok will do.  She leaves the room.  Ten seconds later, I have so much pressure in my butt I cannot believe it.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Heee heee, hooo hoo.  Holy crap this is intense.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Ok a slight break.  It's lessening.  Ok phew.  Maybe that was just a weird contraction that happened right after the whole water drama?  Oopf nope.  Here comes another one.  Hot damn, that's some pressure up my ass.  Is this normal?  Wtf?  Heeeee heeeee.  Hoooo hooooo.  Omg I'm shaking to the point of convulsing.  Like teeth chattering shaking.  My body is going crazy.  But this pressure in my butt is too distracting to panic.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Ok another wave passes.  What is this?  Brian is starting to freak out.  I'm calling a nurse, I'm calling a nurse!  No no, don't panic.  She just checked me 10 minutes ago, and I was only a 6.  Let's give it until 1:00 and then call if we need to.  Ok.  Oh no, here comes another one.  And another.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Son of a motherless uncle, that butt pressure is unbelievable!  Shaking.  Breathing.  Omg.

1:00 am  Brian promptly picks up the phone and calls the nurse.  Laura is having a lot of pressure.  Ok we'll be right there.  Within a minute, the same nurse as before arrives.  Ok honey let's see how you're doing.  Do you feel any pressure?  Ummm ... yes.  Yes I do.  Like you have to go #2?  Yep, that would be a great way to describe it.  The most gigantic #2 any human has ever passed in the history of mankind.  Oh my dear lord.  Breathe.  Breathe.  She ever so calmly decides to check me again.  You were just at a 6, but let's see if you've progressed any more ok honey?  Ok.  Oh my god, he's right there!  He's going to deliver himself!  I'll be right back.  I need to get supplies.  He's coming out!  Heeeee heeee.  Hoooo hoooo.  Butt pressure out the wazoo.  Omg this is happening.  Oh Lord, please get him here safely.  Heeee. Hoooo.  Heeeee.  Breathe.

1:10 am  A couple nurses or midwives roll me onto my back.  He's coming out, honey.  Just push.  No problem.  My body pushes out of instinct.  Ok.  Take a breath.  Alright honey, push one more time.  Sure thing.  Guuuuusssshh!  Relief!  And the cutest, most precious little life of joy is hurled up on my chest.  He's here!  He's here!  Brian and I burst into happy gleeful tears of relief and joy.  William wiggles and cries.  Nurses are wiping him vigorously.  We're all smiling and laughing.  Oh my God, thank you!  Thank you!

1:15 am  Dad, do you want to cut the cord?  Ok right here.  Just snip.  Snip.  Chuckles, tears, baby cries.  Everyone is happy.  Suddenly the privacy curtain by the door flings wide.  Dr. Chou comes running in, her hair flying back.  She stops dead in her tracks with a look of confusion.  Huh?  What happened?  He's here!  He came on his own!  What?  Are you serious?  You just paged me!  I know, he was in a hurry!  She shakes her head with a look of mixed delight and disappointment.  She comes to my side.  I have tears streaming.  So this is what a normal delivery is like?  Yes, so much better, right?  Yes, thank God!  She admires the baby's cuteness, and we all are laughing and sharing our amazement about how fast everything happened.

1:30 am  A midwife or doctor has been stitching up my lady bits and is just about finished.  Did you have an episiotomy?  No, not this time.  Did you have one before?  Yes.  Ok, you tore in the same places.  Oh wow.  Thank God for epidurals.  She declares I have 2nd degree tearing, but it's all external this time.  No biggie.  I can deal with external.  She is quick, and the whole repair process is a breeze compared to before.  Complete breeze.  Through all this, I'm holding a squirmy baby William.  He's then taken over to the warming table.  Weighs in at 7 lbs 6 oz, 20" long.  Gets some slime wiped over his eyes, a foot prick, and a Hep B shot.  He rightfully screams hysterically, and if it weren't for my numb legs, I would run over there to rescue him.  Oh my heart.  I hate that this is his welcome to the world.  I'm sorry, baby.  Eventually he's all wrapped up and brought over to me for some snuggles. The nurses are in and out, but the room settles down to be just Brian, William, and me.  I cannot stop staring at him.  B and I shed tears of joy and relief.  We all snuggle and feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this boy's life and his epic entrance into the world.


2:00 am  Throughout the snuggly feels and time of bonding, my stomach is feeling a bit off.  Like a little reminiscent of all that morning sickness.  Ugh, it will pass.  It will pass.  B is eating a granola bar.  Ok maybe I should take a bite.  That usually took the edge off the morning sickness.  Take a bite.  Mmm, it's delicious.  Chug some water.  Mmmm.  I suppose it's been a while since I've eaten anything, and maybe I am just hungry.  An angel of a nurse comes in to check on us and give me some Motrin.  I am trying so hard to smile, but this nausea is getting worse.  Take the Motrin.  Oh boy.  I know this feeling all too well.  Not good.  B senses it.  You'd better get her a container, she's going to puke.  Oh ok.  She putzes at a mule's pace.  It's coming up now!  Oh!  She shoves a bucket in my face, and yaaaaaaaccck!  A bunch of poop-looking puke comes spewing out.  That one bite of chocolate granola bar mixed with water seriously makes the puke look like diarrhea.  Tears are streaming down my face, as they always do when I throw up.  So glamorous.  This is the shit no one talks about related to childbirth.  It's all happy happy joy joy, and no one ever talks about the nasty reality of what can happen when bringing a human life into the world.  You're welcome.  But honestly, a poopy looking puke is nothing compared to what happened when I delivered JW, so I'll take it.  The only thing is that I lost the Motrin.  Dang it. 

3:00 am  My legs are back, thank God.  The same nurse who caught my puke helps transfer me to a wheelchair.  Brian hands me our little miracle, and I insist on a photo.  We head to a recovery room, exhausted from all that's happened.  We spend the night holding sweet William, starting bottles, getting vitals checked every hour, and having random nurses pop in and out of the room.  So yeah, it's quite restful.

8:00 am  A nurse decides it's time for me to try peeing on my own.  Oh joy.  It takes some time and caution, but I eventually heave ho myself to the side of the bed and make my way (with her help) to the teensy tiny bathroom.  She gives me a tutorial on how to prepare my own diapers, and through all of this, I feel like my insides are going to plummet through my crotch to the floor.  I look down, and all kinds of bloody crap is coming out.  Not like get a blood transfusion blood gush, but still feels weird and is totally disgusting.  I am feeling quite tender in the nether regions, and she has me plop my butt down on the hospital toilet.  Ouch.  But more importantly ... eeeeeewwwwww!!!  I think the last time I actually sat on a public toilet was after I delivered Jonathan in 2012.  Huge no no.  Sick.  But I have no choice at the moment, and I pray the hospital janitors have done their jobs well.  Anyway, I sit and sit.  The nurse comes and goes.  I try to focus on letting out some pee.  But nothing.  Not even one drop.  Please let one drop come out so I can get back in bed for a while.  Please.  But the ole bladder won't cooperate.  Nothing.  The nurse is gracious and says I can try again in an hour.  She can't remove my IV until after I've peed, so I'm motivated to get better hydrated.  I head back to bed and start chugging the water.  I'm hesitant after the puke episode, but I feel a bit more normal now.  And I want this IV out of my arm.  So I drink.

9:00 am  Out comes the pee.  Like a gallon of pee.  Mixed with blood and all kinds of intra-uterine horror movie stuff that should be beautiful since it sustained this precious human life for 9 months, but it's just nothing but plain old gruesome.  Even as I write this, I'm not quite sure why I feel the need to describe the nasty details.  But for some reason, I feel the whole picture is important.  Childbirth is beautiful.  And horrifying.

11:00 am  I am dying to see my sweetheart Jonathan.  And he and Bunny arrive about this time.  He is so cute with his adorable little grin.  He quickly climbs up to give me a tender hug and meet his new brother.  He beams with pride, and my tears are free-flowing.  There are photos galore.  Brian and I recount the whole birth story to Bunny.  Through all of this, nurses are in and out to check vitals and ask questions.  Given all that's happened, I feel quite good.  Tired but good.  The baby is checked out as perfectly healthy, thank God.  I'm checking out as perfectly healthy, thank God.  We start getting hopeful that we can be discharged today and get back to home sweet home.  But no such luck.  We're informed that we'll need to keep the baby there for 24 hours, which would be into the middle of the night.  I'm disappointed to have to stay longer in the hospital, and very disappointed to break the news to Jonathan.  I don't want him to worry or miss us for another night away, although I know he's fine with Bunny.  But my heart is now in two places.  Oh motherhood.




5:00 pm  Jonathan and Bunny have stayed and hung out most of the day, but it's now time for them to head home.  Oh, I'll miss you again tonight, sweetheart.  Mama loves you so much, and when you come back in the morning, we'll all head home together.  Muaach.  Tears.  He is ok, and we all make the transition.  At some point, Brian and I get moved into a bigger recovery room, which is nice.  Through all of this, the baby just sleeps and lets out occasional coos.  Such a little dreamer.  My heart couldn't swell any more.  Throughout the night, nurses pop in and out.  We take turns holding the baby.  Brian is up and down, helping fetch whatever I need.  I stare at this adorable little life in my arms and wipe my tears off and on all night.  I watch a little Food Network.  More tears and all the feels.  I doze off a little here and there.

Sunday, July 9th
6:00 am  The sun is shining.  After another long night in the hospital, we're ready to get this show on the road.  We want discharge.  We want discharge.  The nurses tell us they'll try to get us out first today.  Jonathan and Bunny arrive about 10:00.  Tons of snuggles and photo shoots.  We finally get discharged at 12:00.  Head home, with a stop at Luna's for a celebratory take-out lunch.  I marvel at how much better I feel this time around.  I can't even imagine stopping for take-out on the way home after Jonathan's birth.  Thank God this all went so much better.





1:00 pm  We arrive home and find our adorable neighbors have gone above and beyond with a precious welcome sign.  They are so cute and thoughtful, I can hardly stand it.  Home, sweet home.  Ahhh.  Yes.  It's over.  But it's just the beginning.  We eat a wonderful lunch.  Angel baby snoozes off and on all day.  We overload our phones with pictures.  Jonathan is in and out of various playing.  That night, I stay up with my newest sweetheart William until about 3am.  Then I hand him over to Bunny and get a solid 5 hours of sleep.  Glorious.  Wow.  I awake feeling like a million bucks.  Well, a million bucks who just got the crap beat out of her unmentionables.  I move cautiously and slowly through the next few days.  At some point in there, my boobs explode.  I wish I could enjoy this second (and final) time I will ever have boobs in my life, but they hurt like a mother effer.  Like anyone who comes near them will get swatted.  Git!  Oh, the female body.  You're so beautifully complicated.





Wednesday, July 12th
11:30 am  I am finishing up this blog post while Bunny has taken J to a trampoline park, B is doing a doctor depo in his office, and angel face William is peacefully snoozing right beside me.  I am tired, sitting in my own diaper with crazy sore body parts.  But I'm functional.  And good.  I love this little human more than any blog or words could ever express.  The same goes for Jonathan and Brian.  There are certain types of love that just cannot be captured.  My heart is so full, it just overflows in tearful gushes all the time.  I'm sure hormones play some role there, but they don't account for everything.  These emotions are legitimate gratitude for my precious family, who I came so close to never having.   I could not be any more grateful for how this birth experience went.  And more importantly that William is here safely and perfectly healthy.  God has been so kind to me.  After all the trauma we've endured with cancer, infertility, 4 cycles of IVF, hopes and dreams shattered, etc etc etc ... this is one gorgeous way to close that chapter.  I've got tears dripping down my dark-circled sleep-deprived eyes, and life couldn't be any more beautiful.



Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Day in the Life Winter 2017

Date:  Monday, February 13

Cast of Characters:  Mama Bear (37)
                                 Hubbs (37)
                                 Little Bastard (4)

7:00  Brian comes in to start a shower, and I drearily enter consciousness.  I must have drifted back to sleep after a yucky night of restless sleep.  Multiple wake-ups from all three of us, in spite of being completely exhausted.  Ugh.  What is it with this family and sleep?  Anyway, I'm grateful B let me snooze.  I peel myself out of bed, exchange good mornings with the hubbs, and find J sweating profusely to Wii tennis.  Wut?  Huh?  I can barely see straight, and I'm still fighting off those early morning puke waves of morning sickness.  But he is reeeeally into this tennis game.  Super happy and proud of himself.  "30 love Mama!"  "Deuce!"  "He's not going to get me now!"  Through all of this I sip coffee, eat cereal, scroll through Facebook for the morning news, and we see B off for the day.



7:30  I head to the bathroom to shower and paint the barn.  But on my way, I stumble upon a Facebook article about Tennessee trying to pass a bill, which would deem children conceived via reproductive technology as 'illegitimate.'  I find this hilariously ridiculous and post it to B's wall.  The comments start rolling in immediately, and I post another comment about JW being a bastard.  I am cracking myself up.  Me so funny.  But nonetheless, we are in a time crunch this morning, so I hurry up to get myself ready.  As I'm getting ready, JW is in and out of the bathroom with comments and questions, many about boxing.  I step into the loft to see him boxing via the Wii, and I cannot even fathom having his energy level.  He gets dressed, I admire how he's such an adorable little bastard, we pack up some food for the day, and head out to school.


9:00  We arrive at preschool, and today is a field trip day.  Sadly, I can't go with their class to the firehouse today because I have faculty meeting.  I really wish I could go with his class a) because I have always wanted to be one of those moms who's around and involved and b) the firehouse sounds super fun.  Sigh.  Anyway, I need to leave J's carseat at the school for this event.  I somehow heave-ho the carseat out with minimal sweating, no cussing, and only one broken nail.  Major success.  I drop off, chat with the teacher, say hi to some other moms, kiss my cutie pie, text Kaitlyn the pick-up plan for today, and head off to my school.  Through all of this, I'm trying not to puke.  During the drive, I notice that J's temporary tattoo is still on my arm, over a week later.  Geeesh!  Glad I will show up looking super classy today.  As I drive, I notice the gorgeous snow-capped mountains in the distance and live on the wild side to snap a photo while driving.  I hit some traffic, as usual.  And in the midst of stop n go, Meghan Trainor's 'I'm Going to Love You' song comes on the radio.  I have always adored this song, and my pregnancy hormones make me extra emo today.  I start belting it out, completely off-key.  Here come the feels.  And the tears.  Ack.  Laura, stop.  Your mascara isn't waterproof.  Pull it together.  My eyes are filled to the brim with tears, so I refuse to blink.  One blink, and there goes the mascara.  Hooooooolld it ... hold it.  Ok phew.  I think this wave of emo has passed.  But I suddenly remember a hilarious youtube video of a dog howling to Michael Jackson's 'Make the World a Better Place,' and I can no longer hang on.  Free flowing tears.  I make absolutely no sense, even to myself, and I am laughing/crying at how hormonal I am.  Shishkabobs.


10:00  I arrive at the ranch and do some damage control with my hot mess of a face.  Head inside.  Chat with Susan, who is so cute about my new bump.  The meeting eventually gets underway, and DD announces that he's going to keep our agenda and make sure we use our time efficiently.  Love it, but we'll see.  He starts out with his gratitude list, which I've always appreciated about him.  At the end of his list, he asks if anyone else has something to add.  My department colleagues all start nudging and encouraging me to speak up about the bump situation.  My heart starts pounding, and I feel my face flush.  Oh crap, hold it together Laura!  Ain't got no time for emo in the workplace!  I raise my hand and make the announcement that I'm grateful to have a new baby on the way.  The whole group applauds, and DD says something nice that I couldn't hear.   Susan snaps a pic of me during this, and I could just kiss her for capturing that moment.  I knew that I was going to announce it today, but I was expecting it to be at the end of the meeting, after I'd had time to hem and haw about what to say.  So this took me by surprise, and it's a delight.  The rest of the meeting is totally uneventful.  I catch up on emails, send out course announcements, and whisper with Susan.  By some miracle, we end on time.  Snap some pictures of our department (sans Robert and Anna) and then some girl pics.  I love these people.




11:00  It's time for our department meeting, but today we will meet individually with Tom to review our annual faculty portfolio evaluations.  The first department member gets started in Tom's office, and the rest of us just chat, waiting our turns.  We wait.  And wait.  Hmm.  This is taking much longer than expected.  We eventually get news that Tom's schedule changed, and he's left our evaluations on his desk for our signatures.  Excellent.  We all head upstairs to sign and leave.  Record timing for meetings today.  Hugs and goodbyes. 

11:30  Robbie and I have a lunch scheduled to talk all things DCT.  We head to Panera for our chat, and he kindly insists on buying my lunch.  So nice!  Everyone CBU and their mothers are at Panera, and it's a fun social hour.  We chat about clinical training issues and reminisce about Rosemead.  We eventually head back to the ranch and part ways.  I run a couple errands in the building and hit the road. 

1:30  I arrive home and find B is working away in his war shed.  We chat for a bit.  We relax.  Lounge.  Chat.  And then we talk about how I'll write up this portion of the blog, which is supposed to be completely G-rated and acceptable for all audiences to read.  Hmmmm.  Um, yeah, so we chatted, hee hee.

3:00  I walk up to Kaitlyn's to retrieve our little bastard child.  Talk with Anne and Kaitlyn and catch up.  They are both so cute, and I love that our families have bonded over Jonathan.  J and I head home, and he tells me all about the firehouse field trip.  He is so cute, and I just love how conversational he is.  Awww.  J is quite chatty at home, but we begin a project I've been dreading ...Valentine's cards for his class.  I had surprised myself by taking him to the store a few days ago to choose his box of Valentines, rather than wait until the morning of the 14th.  But now comes the hard part.  Having him write the name of each classmate on the tiny cards.  I am so tempted to just do it for him, but I resist.  I write a list of his classmates' names, and he surprisingly gets into the project with enthusiasm.  He's writing away.  It's completely illegible, but whatever.  We make it half-way through the class list, and he hits a wall.  Done.  Done diddly done.  I'm having waves of nausea, so we both need a break.
4:00  We head to Von's to get a Valentine's card for Brian.  There is lots more chatty stuff in the car, especially about the firehouse.  Once in Vons, he is so cute, wanting me to smell all the Valentines roses.  "Just pick one out for yourself Mama."  Oh, be still, my heart!  Maybe he will be a romantic someday.  We do pass up the roses, and we make our way to the cards.  It's a bit of a process, but we eventually settle on two cards for B -- one from him, one from me.  And while we're doing all this, I have the sinking realization that I suck as a mom.  I don't have anything for him!  WTF was I thinking?!  Damn it.  I don't want to make another special trip back here late tonight to get him something.  Crap.  I'm so tired.  And lazy.  But I want to make this holiday fun and special for him.  What the heck kind of awful mom would I be if I have him write all these cards for his classmates, choose a card for his dad, and then tomorrow morning am like "Surprise!  You get nothing!"  Shit.  What to do, what to do.  Ok.  He's still young enough that I might be able to sneak something into the cart without him noticing.  It's a risk.  But I'm exhausted.  And I do not want to come back here tonight.  Yes.  I'm going to try it.  We circle through the store, and he eyeballs a ninja turtle stuffed animal.  Perfect.  Bingo.  Now how to distract him.  I pull the whole "Hey JDub, look over there!"  Grab the turtle and hide it under my purse.  "What Mama?"  "Oh it's ok.  I thought there was something over there, but everything's fine.  Let's check out."  Success.  We head to the register, and everything continues as planned.  He's happily busy talking a mile a minute and also helping to unload the cart.  I ask him to step aside for a moment, and he cluelessly obliges.  I'm so close.  The teenage boy employee packs up the cart with the goods.  Almost there.  Sweet.  And then.  "Oh ma'am?"  Wait, wait, hold up.  That was his first mistake.  Ma'am?  How dare you.  It's Miss.  Or just nothing.  Ma'am is at least a decade older than where I'm at in life.  But whatever, I have a ninja turtle to hide.  Anyway, he follows up the ma'am mistake by exclaiming "Don't want to forget this!!!"  He dramatically hands over the ninja turtle, and Jonathan's jaw hits the floor.  Thanks.  We head to the car, and J is totally confused and somewhat mad about this whole turtle thing.  Surprise ruined.  I have to give it to him now.  There's no way I can make him wait for tomorrow.  So it looks like I'll be back at good ole Vons later tonight afterall.  Goodie goodie gumdrops.  But J is very happy about this new turtle, and we exchange sweet Valentines comments on the drive home.


5:00  As we walk in the house, B greets us and announces that "things just got worse."  He received notice from the IRS that not only are we getting audited, but so is his practice.  I try to assure him that it's good this is finally happening.  He's been worried about this for years, and now it's finally coming to pass.  It'll be a huge pain with added fees from the CPA, but there's nothing to hide or worry about.  He worries anyway.  B and J head upstairs for more Wii boxing while I prepare dinner and straighten the downstairs.  I'm getting really hungry, and I feel particularly yucky.  I don't think I'll actually throw up, but I need food in my belly.  Stat. 

5:30  The guys come down for dinner.  Pizza and salad.  J comes over to me with his orange sun glasses and says "now ... what to drink with dinner ... hmmm ... seems like a smoothie kind of night."  I crack up and don't know where he comes up with some of his lines.  But I agree that a smoothie does sound pretty good.  We add a berry/beet smoothie to the menu.  Eat and talk more about the firehouse field trip.  There are also lots of funny faces and pictures.  I'm laughing even though I'm feeling very sluggish and exhausted, which means it must be truly funny.  No energy to fake it right now.



6:00  B cleans up dinner and gets J started on his classmate Valentines project again.  I head back to good ole Vons so we won't be the worst parents alive tomorrow morning.  I am so tired right now, but I force myself to get in the car.  I arrive and have a fun surprise of running into two neighbors with their cute girl scout daughters, selling cookies at the entrance.  We chat about cookies, the baby, and our upcoming gender reveal party.  It's fun.  Through all of this, I'm eyeballing the cookies and decide it's completely necessary to purchase some.  Excellent.  Head inside and find some treats for our adorable little bastard Valentine.  It's a madhouse in there, and I'm glad I'm not the only one doing this last-minute shopping.

6:30  I'm back home and thankfully remember to keep the goodies in the car, lest my second attempt at a surprise is fouled.   Brian and JDub are laughing and having fun.  We head upstairs for teeth, books, bed.  Rather than extra books, I sneak Brian's cards into the book room.  J and I work on signing them, and he draws lots of lop-sided hearts and smiley faces.  He is so proud of himself, and it melts my heart.  He's so happy to have this little surprise up his sleeve for tomorrow.  And so am I.


7:00  B and I take turns folding a basket of laundry that had been sitting downstairs for two days.   We do our final nightly chats with our favorite little bastard.  Night night sweetheart.

7:30  Ahhh.  Best time of the day.  B and I sit down to relax.  Click on the latest Colbert and chuckle.  I write up this blog post, and he plays a game on his ipad.  We plow through a sleeve of those evil coconut girl scout cookies.  I catch up on texts with the girls.  Nikki assures me I missed nothing from the field trip because there wasn't a single cute firefighter.  Phew!  Dang, these blog posts take a lot of time.  I'm nauseous again.  Weee!   Colbert is done, so we switch to an old Office re-run, which is ironically a Valentines episode.  At some point in here, J wakes up in a screaming fit, a delightful phase we've been going through for about 3 months now.  Night terror stuff.  It kills me to hear him so upset and incomprehensible, but I'm also running low on energy and patience tonight.  B and I take turns trying to get him settled.  It takes extra effort tonight, which is heartbreaking and annoying.  I hope and pray he outgrows this soon.  But B has nightmares every.single.night.  Genetic?  Don't know.  Too tired to analyze.  Back to the blog write-up.

9:00  Finally finished.  B enthusiastically reads through this post, which I always love.  We chuckle and reminisce about the day.  I have been tired for many hours at this point, and I'm so happy I can finally crawl into bed.  I'm behind with my work now and have hours and hours of grading to do this week.  There are plenty of things around the house that need to be organized and put away.  But my heart is so full.  I love my guys.  And I'm glad we'll have a tiny little celebration of love in the morning.  And I love my life.  It's a good one, and I'm very glad I documented this fairly typical run-of-the-mill day.  One day I will look back on these details and have a Meghan Trainor moment, bawling my eyes out over what a sweet phase of life this was.  Happy Almost Valentine's Day!





Saturday, February 4, 2017

Day in the Life Fall 2016

Trigger warning: doggie heaven discussed in detail below.

I began this day-in-the-life post with enthusiasm.  It was going to be an exceptionally busy day, and I thought it would be a great day to remember.  But things took a turn fairly early in the day.  I stopped my process of documenting and obsessive photo-taking as early as 8am, and I wasn't sure if I would ever write up this post.  It didn't seem right during the day.  But the day afterward, Brian encouraged me to back-track the documentation for this day.  I was initially hesitant, but I'm so glad I did.

Date: October 19th (Wednesday)

Ma peeps:  Ma self (37)
                   Ma man (1 month shy of 37)
                   Ma boy (4)
                   Ma lumps (10)

4:00  I've been tossing and turning for probably 30 minutes at this point.  Weeeee!  Don't you love starting out your day like that?  Refreshing.  I had been having a bad dream loop all night -- Brian and I were leaving for a vacation (that part is nice), and I was saying goodbye to JW, who would be babysat by my grandparents (who died in the 1990s).  Freak creepy.  Couldn't shake that, try as I might.  As I toss and turn in an attempt to snooze the early morning hours away, I begin thinking about today's agenda and am excited for a fun day.  I deliberate about possibly documenting today for the blog.  I had been meaning to choose an October day.  But today will be so busy.  Toss.  Turn.  Ok that's it.  I'm getting up, and today's the day.

4:30  Head downstairs.  The house is dark and quiet.  Grandpa Lumpy doesn't get up to greet me, but he does thump his tail once.  I'm pleasantly relieved to not step in any puke piles as I make my way to the kitchen.  Start coffee.  Scroll through phone.  Message Yvonne that I probably can't make it to her shopping day with Susan, which is a bummer.  But I am delighted that she is making yet another cameo on the ole blog.  I must keep up that tradition.

5:00  Scramble through some old blog posts, trying to remember how to start a new one.  Why can I never remember how to do this?  Finally refresh my memory and get the documentation rolling.  Continue to have a nice quiet house, so I turn on the latest and greatest Pioneer Woman.  Chicken fried steak, biscuits, and chocolate silk pie.  Somehow her menu sounds delicious and disgusting simultaneously.  Through all of this I hear Jonathan singing to himself and intermittently letting out dramatic yawns.  When I'm already awake and somewhat caffeinated, the sound of his voice is so cute.  Darling, really.  I've always loved how articulate he is.  Since he was a baby, he's enunciated everything so clearly.  And his voice is actually kind of deep for a kid, which I love.  I sip coffee and just listen to him.  I'm thankful for his precious life, and I love him.  Keep talking sweetheart; you are so adorable.  But stay in your bed.  It's way too early.

6:00  Mama? ... Mama?!  MAMA!!  I'm assuming the clock struck green.  Brian bounces out of bed and retrieves the mini-human while I'm fixing a second cup.  The guys come downstairs and we pile on the couch.  I'm side-snuggling J, and then he climbs up into my lap.  I squeeze and squish the 45 pounds of downright boy-not a baby anymore-someday he'll be a grown man with a prickly face-but oh, he's still such a baby.  Squeeze and squish.  He's watching a Minecraft video on his ipad.  It takes me a few minutes, but I finally realize this video looks strangely youtubish.  And youtube has been supposedly permanently removed from his ipad.  I question how he gained access to this video.  "Daddy enabled it."  I glare at B from across the couch, and he just shrugs and chuckles through his coffee.  "He wanted it?"  "Well I want pizza and cookies."  "Let's do it."  "How do you two survive without me?"  Chuckles.  This family clearly has two ids and one superego.  Ego yet to develop.  B and I discuss the day.  I inform him I've got the pleasure of getting cheap thrills from Shala's dad today (wait for it ... ), and he about spits out his coffee.  A few minutes later, B realizes the Minecraft youtube has transitioned into something else not kid-friendly.  Was I right?  Or was I right?  Or just right?  B snatches the ipad away to change the settings, which understandably results in an outright tantrum.  I can't blame the kid.  What the heck is with Brian's impulsivity?  Ugh.  I'm irritated and passively aggressively do nothing about the tantrum.  You started all this, dear husband.  You can deal with it.  B struggles to calm J, and I secretly like it.  Soon enough, the ipad is restored to its proper kid-friendly non-youtube status, B and J have sorted out their issues, J seems to feel understood and resigned to playing kids' games, and B might have been humbled?  Phew.

6:30  Brian heads upstairs to get ready for his day.  I make him a lunch.  Make J a breakfast.  Give Lumpy some pets and am concerned that he hasn't changed positions since I came downstairs two hours ago.  He has been unusually lethargic lately, and he's just not himself.  Feeling sad for ma old man.  Scroll through the Loft website, thanks to Yvonne's suggestion, which is having a store-wide 50% off sale.  Hem and haw about whether or not to purchase anything.  Decide what the heck?  Why shouldn't I?  It's my turn to be the id.  I purchase 4 sweaters and a dress and feel proud of myself for doing something so fun.  I'm clearly in need of therapy.  Brian heads to a deposition, looking dapper as ever, and I'm bummed I didn't get a photo of him.  I share Anne's gorgeous photo, feeling extremely proud of her for completing her PhD in memory of Philipp.  "Make" JW finish his cereal, who is happily busy with legos.



7:30  Discretely sneak into the laundry room to stab myself.  This is it, people.  The last hope.  The fourth and final cycle of IVF.  Fun times.  I've been working very hard this time to keep my mind focused on things besides hope.  The hope is there, and it's not possible to remove it.  But I've learned the hard way that it doesn't help me to entertain the hope.  This time, I'm focusing on gratitude that this 8-year chapter of life is almost over.  I might not get the outcome that I want, but I'm thankful the uncertainty and emotional roller coaster of hope/devastation will finally come to an end.  I'm ready for this to end.  And I've noticed that with my new mindset and different focus this cycle, I'm not obsessing over it much at all, which is more than welcome.


7:45  Scarf down some cereal, against my diet.  Bustle around the house in my normal straightening routine.  Assure J we will look for his lost microscopic IronMan lego body piece in the afternoon.  Run upstairs to shower and paint the barn. But remember that Grandpa Lumpy still hasn't gone potty today, so I run back downstairs for that.  I call him to the door.  Teeeeeddddddy.  Teeeeeedddddy.  ... Chunk?  You ok?  Come on!  Let's go potty!  Come on Teddy!  Let's go!  Man, I'm getting worried.  He's always had a slightly rebellious streak in him, but this doesn't seem right.  I'm concerned that he can't get himself up.  He does finally scramble himself upright and make his way to the garage door.  JW is there too, and we all step into the garage for the potty routine. Despite doing this potty route multiple times everyday, Teddy seems confused, disoriented.  He trots through the garage and ignores my calls.  Pees on the jasmine patch.  I call him back to his dog run, and he saunters through the garage and loses bowel control on the garage floor.  Oh no.  This is not right.  Something is wrong.  JW is out there going wild and talking really loud.  I shush him, saying "something's wrong."  Teddy walks back into the house and walks straight into the laundry room wall.  He hovers there for what seems an eternity (but is likely 15-20 seconds).  I rush to his side, telling him everything will be ok.  I'm gently petting him on the side, and he seems so aloof.  His limbs start wobbling and turning in wonky directions.  My heart is pounding now.  JW is standing behind us, watching agape.  Teddy suddenly collapses in a splat on the floor, his limbs all going in goofy directions.  My poor Teddy.  My heart.  I try to rearrange his legs to get him more comfortable, but I'm hesitant.  He seems to be in pain, and I don't want to make anything worse.  Oh my god.  I don't know what to do.  JW has started chatting about something important in the 4 year-old realm, and I shush him again.  "You need to talk quietly.  Shhh.  Teddy is hurting."  JW gets the message quickly and quiets down.  I text B that Teddy is not doing well and agree I need to call the vet today.  I give Teddy lots of pets and tell him everything will be ok.


8:15  I am running so late at this point, and my mind is racing about what to do.  I run upstairs to get showered and dressed.  Whatever happens today, I'm still needing to get J to preschool by 9.  I decide I can shower and think at the same time, so I do just that.  I move quickly and think even quicker.  Do I still go on the field trip?  Do I take Teddy to the vet?  Can he walk?  How would I even get him there?  Does the vet do house calls?  What if today is the day?  Are we putting him down?  I can't do that alone.  B has to be there too.  Can he come home early?  Should we do it while J is at school?  Should I ditch the field trip?  But J is so excited for me to be there, and I always wished my mom could have been at those types of things.  I have a doctor appointment after the field trip.  And we have a play date and library trip after that.  I was also going to make popcorn balls.  Should I cancel something?  Should I wait?  How is he doing right now?  Is he in pain?  What if I go downstairs and something worse has happened?  What could be worse?  I don't know.  Damn it.  I holler at JW to get dressed and brush his teeth quickly.  Thank God he does.  I think he senses the urgency.

9:00  I check on Teddy, and he's moved his legs into a better position.  I pet him and try to console the beast.  He's looking at me like 'what happened?'  I assure him I'll be right back, and JDub and I scurry to the car.  We arrive at school a few minutes late, and he shuffles in quickly.  Drop off.  Rush back home.  Talk with B on the phone about our poor beast, petting him through the whole conversation.  Tears come.  They're dripping on him and the floor, and he doesn't lift his head.  He's got his nose shoved up against the washing machine, and he seems so unlike himself.  B and I begin mentally preparing that today is really the end.  I assure Teddy that I'm still here but just going into some other rooms.  I hastily finish the straightening of the house, while my mind races about how to handle the rest of the afternoon.  Should I reschedule my doctor appointment?  It would probably be find to do that.  But B won't be home by then anyway.  I guess I should just go.  What about the play date?  I already flaked on Larissa last week.  I can't flake two weeks in a row.  I should just go.  But what about poor Chunk?  I can't leave him alone all day.  Ugh.

9:30  I give Teddy plenty of tear-dripped pets and assure him I'll be back soon.  You just rest here, sweet boy.  Enjoy this nice quiet house and let your legs rest.  He doesn't lift his head.  I head back to J's preschool to meet up for the pumpkin patch field trip.  It takes a while, but eventually all the kids pile into cars, and we caravan to the pumpkin patch.  JDub is in a great mood and chats incessantly through the whole drive.  I do my best to listen, but I'm so preoccupied.  My eyes are filled with tears, but I don't want to actually cry.  I mention to J that I'm worried about Teddy and think he might need to go to doggie heaven today.  He isn't bothered by this news in the least and continues to chat about superheroes.  There are detailed descriptions about each hero's weapon.

10:00  We arrive at the pumpkin patch, and all the kids and moms head for a shady spot.  The kids are adorable, racing around each other, picking up the mini pumpkins, showing off their strength, climbing hay bails, and shrieking with delight.  The moms all chat and chuckle at the kids.  We take some cute photos.  There's a lame hay ride that the kids like.  They all eat pumpkin cupcakes and run wild.  I get to chat with one of the moms I had been wanting to get to know better, and it's a welcome distraction from my Teddy concerns.  But toward 11:30ish I'm getting antsy.  I'm done with the small talk and just want to go home.  It's getting hot, I'm hungry, and I need to get home to my dog.





12:00  It's finally over.  We say our thank yous and goodbyes and head home.  J continues to be extra chatty, especially about superheroes.  It's cute, but I don't have the patience for it.  I try to bring up my concerns about Teddy again, but he's still not hearing it.  Perhaps it's because of last week's fake-out.  Or perhaps it's because he's 4.  I'm not sure, and I don't care too much at the moment.  My heart is with Teddy right now.  I prep Jonathan that we need to eat lunch very quickly because we'll be going to Kaitlyn's soon.

12:15  We arrive home.  I go immediately to Teddy.  Still hasn't moved.  Aiesch.  My heart.  He does lift his head up, though, which I'm glad to see.  He seems a bit more cognitively himself now, but he can't move his legs.  I call to him, just testing to see if he can move.  Nothing.  No budge.  And I don't want to push it.  Eff.  I had been dreading that today was really the day, but this is making it more certain.  I give him lots of pets and say that he might get to see Honey today.  His eyebrows twitch at the sound of her name.  My heart.  I scarf down a rice cake with peanut butter and hurry J to eat quickly.  I finally put in a call to the vet and explain what's happening.  She says we can come in this afternoon, and they'll help us get him out of the car.  Gulp.  This is happening.

12:30  It's time to drop off at Kaitlyn's, but my heart is full of dread.  I'm trying to move quickly because I don't want to be late to my appointment, but I'm realizing this will likely be the last time Jonathan sees his buddy.   My eyes are filled to the brim with tears, and my voice is high and shaky. But I tell J that Teddy is probably going to doggie heaven to find Honey this afternoon.  Is there anything you want to say to Teddy before he goes?  "No.  Why are you crying, Mama?"  "Well I'm sad because I'm going to miss Chunk a lot.  But I'm happy for him that he gets to see Honey again."  "Oh."  "Why don't you give Teddy some gentle pets and tell him how much you love him."  "Ok Mama."  Ugh.  I'm struggling to hold it together, but this is not the time to lose it.  I get a picture of my two wild boys.  One last picture.  I quietly and tearfully assure Teddy that I'll be back soon, and he's going to have so much fun seeing Honey soon.  His big round eyes are so cute, and he seems to perk his ears at the sound of Honey's name.  I don't know if he really responds to her name or if it's just wishful thinking, but I don't care.  It helps me feel better that he might have her to look forward to.  Jonathan and I head out.  Drop off at Kaitlyn's.  She is gracious about the Teddy situation and says it's no problem for J to stay as long as we need.


1:15  I arrive promptly for my appointment at the House of Romance, hehe.  I get myself checked in, and I'm hoping everything goes quickly.  I normally have a strange enjoyment of these appointments -- I like chatting with the nurses, there's some excitement about knowing the status of my lady bits, and it's one step closer to that hopeful baby outcome.  But not today.  I don't want to be here.  I am worried sick about Teddy and heartbroken about whatever happened to him this morning.  I don't want him to suffer, but I don't want to say goodbye either.  The waiting room is getting full.  Really full.  I've never seen it like this before.  Every chair is taken, and there is a couple that can't sit together.  I think about offering my chair so they can sit together, but I decide I'm not going to be that nice today.  I bury my face in my phone.  I text Larissa and apologize that I'll need to cancel our wiggle bike play date.  I hate being a flake, but it's completely necessary today.  I text B about his timing, and he says he'll be home by 3:00.  Good.  I'm called back for bloodwork.  Quick prick.  Done.  But Rocio explains that Dr. Salem isn't here yet.  Wut?  I was already bummed I had to see him today instead of Shala, but now he's late?  Stuck in traffic?  Not the day for this.  Damn it.  I need to get home.  He better hurry.


1:45  Dr. Salem finally waltzes in like nothing happened.  The whole waiting room seems to glare at him, and he just slowly walks through the waiting room into the clinic.  No rush for him today.  Nice.  Awesome.  Great to see you too, ya jerk.  Within 10ish minutes, I'm called back for some cheap thrills, ha!  I get into formation.  He strolls in and thankfully skips any weird small talk.  Grabs the wand and shoves him in.  Ugh.  He clearly hasn't had the pleasure of an internal ultrasound before.  But without even a second of orientation or thought he exclaims "Your uterus is beautiful!  Too beautiful!"  Barks a measurement to Rocio and yanks out the wand.  At least he's quick.  He instructs us to change the transfer date.  "Get her started on the progesterone now, and let's not delay.  Her uterus is perfect now.  Transfer next Tuesday?"  "Fine with me!  Sure!"  And before I can blink my eyes, he's gone.  I get dressed and schedule the new transfer with Lolita.  Well that turned out to be a pleasant surprise, and it was nice to have a quick break from my Teddy heartache.

2:30  Head home.  I talk with B while I drive.  We're both somber.  He will get home soon, and today is the day.  I arrive home about 2:50ish and rush to Teddy's side.  His big brown eyes are so precious, and he seems to be saying "hey let's play!"  But the beast can't move.  He's truly stuck, and my stomach hurts.  I curl up with him for some last snuggles.  I snap a couple selfies and let the tears flow.  Talk with him about what a great dog he's always been and how much I love him.  He's helped me be a better person, and that's the truth.  He's helped me be a more accepting person, and I'll always be thankful for that.  He's also helped me be more active and see how fun it is to be playful.  He's been such a great buddy, especially in the last few years.  Always right by my side.  Always begging.  Always happy to get pets.  Always happy to be included in whatever we're doing.  Ten years sure went fast.  I'm going to miss him so much.  But I'm so happy he'll get to see Honey soon.  The tears are free flowing, and I just keep up the pets while we wait for Brian.


3:00  Brian arrives.  He rushes upstairs to change clothes, and we then spend a few moments on the floor with our first born.  It's so hard to see him like this.  It's not right.  This isn't our Teddy.  Teddy is the one running circles around us, not laying helplessly crippled on the floor.  Ahh, my heart is hurting.  Brian and I discuss how we can move this 80 pound beast, and he runs upstairs to fetch some beach towels.  We inch the towels under our mutt and prepare to heave-ho him into the car.  I am holding on to my tears for dear life and barely get him to the car.  But Teddy seems to kind of like the ride.  Weeee!  Brian climbs into the trunk with him and says he doesn't trust his driving right now.  I go back into the house to get my keys, and I linger at the kitchen sink while I cry.  I'm so sorry Teddy.  I hope you're not hurting.  And I hope you're not afraid.   Everything is going to be ok, my sweet beast.  We're going to miss you so much, but you're going to be great in just a short while.  I don't want to leave the house, but I force myself to get in the car.  It's a short 1 mile drive, but I wish it were longer.  We both talk with him about what a good boy he is and how Honey must be waiting for him.  We arrive at the vet's much sooner than I'd like.  I park close to their entrance, and leave the guys in the car for a second.

3:15  I walk toward the vet's entrance, and the secretary meets me at the door.  "Is it Teddy?"  "Yes."  "Ok we'll be right the to help you."  I wait outside in the sunshine for what seems an eternity, and eventually two cute college-looking girls come out.  "We're so sorry" they offer.  "Thanks.  Thanks for your help."  We all hover around the beast in the trunk, and Teddy licks the girls' hands profusely.  I notice his tail can't wag and fight back more tears.  The girls ooh and goo over him for a minute and then carefully scoop him up.  We all head inside.  They whisk him into a side room, and the secretary shuffles Brian and me into an exam room.  There's a dark green blanket folded into a little pallet on the floor.  We sit in chairs and cry together.  We don't talk.  Just cry.  Brian's hand is on my knee, and I hold his arm.  The tears are flowing for both of us.

3:30  It starts feeling like we've been waiting forever.  Ugh!  Bring him in here, already!  We're about to see him die.  I think we can handle seeing him get an IV, for crying out loud.  The secretary is in and out with paperwork and payment stuff.  She is tender and kind.  Finally the cute girls bring Teddy in.  Yes!  Hi Chunk!  You are so adorable!  They try to get him arranged on the pallet, but Teddy is trying so hard to scramble up.  He seems confused that he can't run and play.  Brian and I move in closer and hold him.  You just relax, Chunk.  Let's lay down here.  The two girls quietly exit, but Teddy immediately starts whimpering and wheezing.  I hate this.  I don't want him to be nervous or afraid.  It's ok Teddy.  It's ok.  You calm down; everything is ok.  You're such a good boy.  We're here to find Honey.  We're just hanging out on the floor with you.  Profuse pets and attempts to calm him down.  He finally settles.  More tears.  More cries.  It's surreal too.  I can't believe he will only be with us for a few more moments.  We pet him all over and lavish him with praise.  He's truly a wonderful dog.

3:45  The vet finally comes in, holding several syringes.  It's the new vet.  The one who dealt with our fake-out last week.  Damn.  I was hoping for the other vet, who helped us send Honey to doggie heaven.  But whatever.  I'm too sad to care much.  She is kind and keeps telling Teddy she's sorry.  Teddy is licking her hand profusely.  She asks about this morning, and I tell her about the possible seizure.  She agrees it could have been a seizure.  She pinches his back leg, and he doesn't move.  She explains he's likely lost feeling in his hind quarters and goes in for a deeper pinch.  Teddy flinches and retracts his leg.  That pisses me off.  Why would you do that to him?!  The poor dog is dying; does it matter if he feels your pinch?  Leave him alone.  Ugh.  But again, whatever.  I'm too sad to care much, and I keep quiet.  She explains the process of the medication; the first syringe is for sedation, and the second one is an overdose of anesthesia.  She asks if we're ready.  We nod and tell Teddy it's time to go find Honey.  She's waiting for you, Teddy!  The first syringe goes in, and it seems to take 10 years for the medication to be administered.  I'm sitting behind Teddy, holding his head/neck from behind.  He very slowly starts slumping into my arms.  There we go Teddy.  You're nice and sleepy; now it's time to go play.  The second syringe goes in.  This is it.  Brian and I are petting him through all of this, with tears dripping onto his beautiful blonde fur.  The medicine is in.  We sigh.  Goodbye sweet boy.  The doctor leans in with her stethoscope to listen for his heart beat.  "Oopf.  Not quite," she says.  "Oh my god!  Are you serious?  That is SO him!" I say.  Brian and I laugh through our tears.  That's our Chunk!  Stubborn and determined to play, even in his last seconds.  We all chuckle and seem to have needed that comic relief.  The vet administers another syringe and confirms there is no more heart beat.  She offers condolences and leaves the room.  Brian and I let out some more cries and sighs.  After a few moments, we decide it's time to go.  Brian goes first and sets a brand new container of dog treats on the counter as a donation.  Why'd we have to go buy a shitload of treats and food right before he dies?  Anyway.  I follow behind and turn to see him one last time.  He's so peaceful.  And big.  Laying on his side.  Looks like he's just taking a nap.  Goodbye Teddy.  I'll always love you.  Close the door.



4:00  We get in the car and head to Kaitlyn's.  The drive home is fairly quiet.  We chuckle again about how he hung on and refused to die.  So like him.  Hund!  We pull up to Kaitlyn's and I say how much I'm not in the mood to chat.  "Just get him, and let's go," says B.  I would love to do that, but it's not that easy.  I head to the the door, keeping my sunglasses over my tear-stained face.  Kaitlyn answers the door, all smiley and giddy.  Hi!!  Ugh.  She is so sweet, but I just can't.  Jonathan comes running over, and I hold it together.  Anne and Kaitlyn ask how Teddy is, and I explain what happened.  They are kind and supportive.  We small talk and chat longer that I'd like, but J and I eventually make it back to the car.  We start telling JDub that Teddy is now with Honey in doggie heaven.  "Oh."  He seems aloof and unphased, which is fine.  "Are you crying Mama?"  "Yeah.  I'm sad."  "Stop crying, Mama."  "Well it's ok to cry.  It's a sign of how much I loved Teddy."  "Oh.  ... Are you done crying now?"  All of this during the 1-block drive home.  Man.  He's so cute with his 4 year-old mind, but I also don't have tons of patience.  We arrive home and walk into a strangely quiet house.  No one is at the door greeting us.  No tails wagging.  It's still.

4:15  Brian is crying in the laundry room.  We give each other hugs and kisses and fetch kleenex for each other.  Brian starts immediately moving Teddy's things around -- cleaning out his water bowl, taking down the gate.  I'm not exactly ready to remove all traces of the mutt, but it seems that Brian really needs to do this.

4:30  I say I'm craving Indian food (which had been our original dinner plan for this busy day).  He suggests I take Jonathan with me to pick up some food.  I'm not entirely thrilled to have a car ride with an inquisitive and demanding mini-human at the moment, but I can tell Brian needs to be alone.  J and I leave, and he's thankfully pretty quiet during the drive.  Toward the end of the drive, he's drifting off to sleep.  Great.  Lovely.  But whatever.  I don't have the energy to deal with keeping him awake.

5:00  We arrive at our favorite Indian place.  I wake the boy and carry him inside.  He perks up right away because the guy behind the counter is holding out his hand for a fist bump.  It's a Cheers moment, and I take comfort in being known.  There's no small talk, which makes the moment even better.  I put in our order, which will take 15 minutes to prepare.  J and I head across the parking lot to Heavenly Donuts.  Sadly, they are closed.  But it's for the better.  I shouldn't be eating donuts anyway.  We hang out at a picnic table while we wait.  J is enthusiastically playing with a Lego Marvel superhero, sweeping the hero through the air and making engine type roars.  I text my sisters and mom the news about Teddy.  They immediately write back with kind words of support and sadness.  I also receive a couple texts from friends saying how sorry they are.  Huh?  How do they know?  Ahh, Brian has already posted the news to good ole Facebook.  I read his post, which brings tears to my eyes.  "Why are you crying again, Mama?"  "I'm still sad, sweetheart."

5:15  We retrieve our delicious dinner and head home.  J munches on naan while we drive, and the entire 30 minute drive is filled with questions about crying, sadness, Teddy, and I don't like it when you cry, Mama.  It's a tender conversation.  I recognize how important it is to help him feel secure while I'm grieving.  I do my best.

5:45  Arrive home.  Get J's dinner plated.  B gets his plated.  I head upstairs for jammies.  No more clothes on a day like today.  Grab my dinner and we all head upstairs to the TV, as tonight is a special night: the third and final presidential debate.  Whoo hoo!  I'm glad we're home for it, and I'm hoping there might be some comic relief.  We all approve of the wonderful dinner.  Hillary looks surprisingly pretty tonight.  The Donald is actually calm and composed.  Damn.  I was hoping for a sludge fest that would crack me up.  I text with Anne and Carolyn throughout the show, each of us sending our favorite quotes.  It does get more heated toward the end; Donald calls Hillary "a nasty woman."  Haha!  JW is getting restless toward the end and is done with his ipad.  He desperately needs to go to bed, but I don't want to miss the end of the debate.  We stave him off until the end of the circus.

7:30  Teeth.  Potty.  Books.  Bed.  I tuck him in.  Time for Brian's nightly chat.  I settle down with my phone to post a picture collage of Chunk.  I'm arranging photos, but I'm distracted by Jonathan's cries from down the hall.  He seems to be escalating.  Ugh.  I can't hear what Brian is attempting, and I'm too tired to deal with it.  I let it go for a few more minutes, but the cries continue.  I eventually head down the hall to investigate.  "I want another dog!!  We'll never have another dog!! Teddy is gone!!"  Oh man.  My heart begins to crack again.  I didn't realize he was upset about this.  Brian and I talk with him about how much fun Teddy is having now with Honey.  They're running and playing.  Maybe they're eating chocolate cake too?  What do you think they're doing?  "I don't know.  We'll never have another doooooggggggggg!!!!!"  Poor kid.  "We'll get another dog someday, sweetheart."  "Like tomorrow?"  "Well, no.  Not tomorrow.  We're still sad about Teddy and Honey.  But someday."  "Whaaaaaaa!!"  We hug and kiss him and attempt to get him settled down.  I hate seeing him confused and overwhelmed.  But it's also been a long day, and I'm ready for it to be over.  "Let's think of some other things that make us feel happy now.  We can cry some more tomorrow.  Let's think about happy things now so we can have happy dreams."  We brainstorm some happy things -- Minecraft, Lego Marvel superheroes, ice cream, and camping.  It seems to work.  He's exhausted.  He settles down and snuggles his bunny.  Night night my darling boy.  B and I close his door and breathe a sigh of relief.

8:00  We plop down on the couch and scroll through Facebook.  It might be cliche, but Facebook makes the world such a small place.  I post my photo collage, and the sweet comments start rolling in immediately.  Brian's post is filled with supportive notes, and people near and far are commenting, messaging, and texting.  We are fortunate to be surrounded by such compassionate people.  We start last night's Colbert and get some decent laughs in about his interview with Obama.


9:00  We're spent.  The tears have dried up for now.  We both head downstairs for water refills and the customary potty routine.  Oh.  Wait.  There's no dog to potty.  Ugh.  The house is quiet.  Too quiet.  We exchange comments about how it feels so wrong to not have either of the dogs here any more.

9:30  We turn out the lights after a very difficult day.  Offer prayers of thanks for all the great years we had with Teddy and Honey.  Reflect on many things that have happened over the past ten years, and the dogs have been such an integral part of our lives.  They've always been right there.  It's surreal to close this chapter of our life.  We chuckle about some of their idiosyncrasies.  Oh Teddy.  Oh Honey.  Goodnight sweet doggies.  We hope you are running wild and having the best reunion.

I drift off to sleep actually feeling happy, remembering these special members of our family.  I'm so glad we got to have them.  I'm also ready to have a cleaner house, but I'll save those selfish thoughts for tomorrow.  Love you Teddy and Honey.