Dear baby Jillian,
Hi, little girl! I love you. You are such a big girl now in my belly. I'm not sure how you can still be comfortable in there. I can feel you try to stretch out sometimes, and it doesn't seem to be very successful for you! Poor little girl! Your long baby legs just have to stay all curled up, don't they?
We've had an interesting week and a half, haven't we? We started going into labor, then had it stop on us. We found out we're almost halfway dilated, so your little baby head can almost fit through. We found out that Mommy's almost completely effaced, and how far down you've traveled. You seem pretty anxious to get out, considering your head is in my birth canal. Are you comfortable with your head being smooshed between my pelvis? Is it kind of like a vice grip, holding you in place, or can you move your head around still? I get worried about you, Jilly, wondering if you're uncomfortable or in any kind of pain. Most babies don't move down that far until their mommies are getting ready to push them out, but you couldn't wait. You're a rebel. I like that about you.
There doesn't seem to be much left holding you in there. This is very uncomfortable for me, baby J, since it puts a lot (and I mean a LOT!) of pressure on my whole crotch. I know you don't know what any of those body parts are yet, since you're still on the inside and aren't familiar with the outside world, but someday I'll make sure you know about the bruising and swelling you've caused. Like when you grow up, get married, and go to have a baby of your own. You'll ask me all kinds of questions about when I was pregnant with you, just like I asked your Grandma Christie, and I'll have all kinds of answers.
I love you, Jilly. I've tried to make sure you know how much I really, really love you. I welcome you into my life, and out into the world. So does your Daddy. He loves you so much. He's always talking to you and asking you to come out and telling you he loves you, and I know you hear him because every time he does you start to squiggle around in my belly. He reads you books. He welcomes you into his life, our life, and out into the world, too.
Daddy has to go away in about two weeks for a little while. He won't be gone long, but he has very important work to do. He really wants to be here for you, to see you as you first enter this world and take your first breath. I need him here, too. He's my support and my rock, and he keeps me from feeling overwhelmed. But we're both starting to get really worried, baby girl. We're worried you won't come out before he has to leave. And if that's the case, then the doctor's will make you come out while he's gone, and he won't be here to welcome you. That would break his heart, and mine. And it wouldn't be fair to you either, Jillybean, because you'd get to miss out on spending your first days warm and secure with both Mommy and Daddy.
Did we do something to offend you, Jillian? Did we perhaps not make you feel welcomed and happy like we should? We've tried to make a really good home for you. We've done everything we can to make sure that you have everything you need and more. We love you, and we want you to be happy. Are you scared? Because if you are, I promise you, it's okay. I will protect you. I will hold you, and you will have me to keep you safe. Your Daddy, too.
We want you to come out. We want to meet you. We're both confused as to why you seem to be teasing us, with contractions that start and stop, and lots of progress. I love you. Daddy loves you. We won't let anything happen to you.
Your Daddy would like to spend some time with you before he needs to leave for a little while. Only you can make this happen. You have the ability to come out and meet us. We're waiting for you, and we're trying to be as patient as possible. But we're excited and anxious to have you in our arms. You changed our lives as soon as you entered them. You are our everything. So if you're frightened, or if you have any doubts about coming into this big, colorful world, know that it's okay. We love you and will hold you and protect you. We'll keep you safe. I promise you.
Please come out soon. We want to make you love us, too.
Love,
Your Mommy and Daddy
P.S. I think Kitty might want to meet you, too. He's been following us around lately and looking at me with very concerned eyes. And he's been trying to climb up and lay across you, which is sort of odd considering he is not a lap cat. I think he wants to meet his new sister!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Progress is progress
I'm 4 cm dilated, 80% effaced, with baby down at +1 station. I've been having contractions for 5 days now, so "Progress is progress" is becoming a slight mantra of mine as I try to keep myself from becoming frustrated. It seems each time things start to really get going they taper off for a little while. I keep waiting for that moment of intense pain to come, instead of this throbbing pain that I've been feeling, to signify that it is finally time to go to the hospital again, but just as it reaches that point things slow down again.
It really should be any day now. Key word should. But for some reason my body seems to have decided to draw out this process as long as possible. Between appointments, I feel slightly frustrated at the fact that I don't know if I'm doing anything or not. I feel worried that I am in active labor, and that these cramping and backache pains I've been having are actually how I'm going to experience labor, and I'm brushing off these signs as nothing because they aren't what I expect. Not that it really matters where I'm laboring, just as long as I get to the hospital before she's crowning.
It's baffling to me that I'm walking around almost halfway dilated, almost completely effaced, and with my daughter's head down past my pelvis. It's also weird to me that I can't put my legs together because I can feel her head inside of me. And creepy.
Still, I repeat my new mantra. I try to remind myself that things are progressing, and even though this isn't typical, it's still progress. I know the possibility that I could be walking around like this for a while. I get that. It doesn't make me feel better, but I understand. And I'm preparing myself for this possibility. I'm trying to learn how to continue to do things while in pain. Walking has become quite painful, especially today, as I think the pressure of her head being so low is really taking it's toll on my pelvic area. Standing is pretty painful, too, and I find myself constantly shuffling my weight back and forth to find a comfortable position for me and poor Jilly, who I can't imagine is very comfortable either with her head shoved between my pelvic bones. Yes, I know I'm not 40 weeks, yes I know I'm not overdue, so yes, I know many people are going to feel I have no right to complain. And maybe I don't. Maybe I'm breaking an unwritten rule of pregnancy to feel this way before I get to 40 weeks. At this point, I don't care about the unwritten rules or if I'm offending anyone. I look forward to when this is over. It's going to be awesome to have my little girl in my arms. And it's going to be awesome to have a day where I'm not contracting or in pain.
Soon. So very soon. And as long as things keep progressing and pick up, I should have her before Marshall has to go to his medical board hearing. He's just as anxious as I am. And hopefully soon when he asks if I'm okay instead of getting "Yeah, just having contractions" he'll get "Yeah, but we need to go to the hospital." Very soon.
It really should be any day now. Key word should. But for some reason my body seems to have decided to draw out this process as long as possible. Between appointments, I feel slightly frustrated at the fact that I don't know if I'm doing anything or not. I feel worried that I am in active labor, and that these cramping and backache pains I've been having are actually how I'm going to experience labor, and I'm brushing off these signs as nothing because they aren't what I expect. Not that it really matters where I'm laboring, just as long as I get to the hospital before she's crowning.
It's baffling to me that I'm walking around almost halfway dilated, almost completely effaced, and with my daughter's head down past my pelvis. It's also weird to me that I can't put my legs together because I can feel her head inside of me. And creepy.
Still, I repeat my new mantra. I try to remind myself that things are progressing, and even though this isn't typical, it's still progress. I know the possibility that I could be walking around like this for a while. I get that. It doesn't make me feel better, but I understand. And I'm preparing myself for this possibility. I'm trying to learn how to continue to do things while in pain. Walking has become quite painful, especially today, as I think the pressure of her head being so low is really taking it's toll on my pelvic area. Standing is pretty painful, too, and I find myself constantly shuffling my weight back and forth to find a comfortable position for me and poor Jilly, who I can't imagine is very comfortable either with her head shoved between my pelvic bones. Yes, I know I'm not 40 weeks, yes I know I'm not overdue, so yes, I know many people are going to feel I have no right to complain. And maybe I don't. Maybe I'm breaking an unwritten rule of pregnancy to feel this way before I get to 40 weeks. At this point, I don't care about the unwritten rules or if I'm offending anyone. I look forward to when this is over. It's going to be awesome to have my little girl in my arms. And it's going to be awesome to have a day where I'm not contracting or in pain.
Soon. So very soon. And as long as things keep progressing and pick up, I should have her before Marshall has to go to his medical board hearing. He's just as anxious as I am. And hopefully soon when he asks if I'm okay instead of getting "Yeah, just having contractions" he'll get "Yeah, but we need to go to the hospital." Very soon.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Using this to ask for prayers
There are some things going on in our lives that I've tried really hard to keep private. But sometimes, you gotta get these things out, and call in the big guns. That's right, I'm talking about calling in some prayers. And that's exactly what I'm doing with this. And before you all get worried about Jilly, she's just fine. These prayers are for Marshall, and for my sanity.
I'm going to try to make a very, very long story short. Marshall joined the Air Force shortly after we got married. He's been in for 2.5 years now, and he loves it. He wants to make this his career. He excels at his job, has been given duties way above and beyond his pay grade, and has been recognized countless times for his excellent service. He just got promoted to Senior Airman, woo hoo, which is a time in service promotion but still exciting nonetheless. He loves what he does, and he's proud of himself for what he does, and as his wife seeing him so proud and happy makes my heart swell with joy for him.
In September of 2009, so about 9 months after we moved here to Germany, my husband had something strange happen. He was working, going about his day as usual, when he broke out in this weird and painful rash. The first time it happened, no one really though anything of it. The second time, a few days later, we all started to wonder what was going on. One day, after he broke out, work sent him to the ER, where they referred him to an allergist. Skipping forward a bit, Marshall is diagnosed with chronic urticaria. This means, he randomly breaks out in painful hives from time to time, a couple times a week on average. The break outs last about five minutes, then he's fine. His particular kind is cholinergic urticaria, which means it's induced by heat, extreme physical exertion, and stress. What's funny is, you never know what's going to set this off. I've seen him pick me up and carry me around no problem, but pick up a five gallon bucket and suddenly need to go outside because he's breaking out. Totally weird.
He's been on a profile at work for a little over a year. This means, they've restricted what he can do while this is happening. Mainly, he can't deploy because of concerns about the desert heat and his condition. I'll admit, I never thought anything of it. This has just become a part of our lives, it's the norm now. I never once thought that these random breakouts a few times a month would affect our future. Especially since all the doctors we've talked to are extremely confident that this will go away, and is not a permanent condition.
In October, Marshall was notified that he was being medical boarded. Since he can't deploy, they might not want him in the Air Force anymore. A few weeks ago, the Informal board came back with a decision. Discharge from service with 10% severance. Basically, they'd give us a 90 day separation period, move us back to Ohio, give us a couple thousand dollars if we're lucky, and wish us well. The end. No benefits. No backup plan. Just gone. Obviously, this is not what we want to hear, especially with a brand new baby coming. We decided Marshall would contest the findings, sending the decision to the next level, the Formal Board.
With the Formal Board, Marshall will have to go to Texas and meet with a group of medical professionals and Air Force people and be able to argue his case: that he wants to make the Air Force a career, his condition does not impact his quality of work, and that he is worth fighting for and wants to keep his job. It's our last stand before the final blow. He'll find out right then and there whether or not we'll still have a clear defined future, or if we're suddenly going to be two unemployed adults with a baby and no way to support ourselves or provide for her.
Now, let's throw some more stress into the mix. Marshall got the date for his hearing yesterday. It's February 3. He'll have to leave probably Jan. 31 or Feb. 1. This would be perfectly fine if I wasn't due to have our baby on January 29. The 3rd is only 5 days past my due date. If Marshall has to leave on the 1st, that's 3 days past my due date. There is a very, very good possibility that he's not going to be here when she's born. He's upset because he might miss the birth of his daughter, I'm upset because I don't know how I'm going to do this without him. And if she does come on time, he'll have to leave before we even get settled at home. I'm going to be having a baby and have a brand new baby with no husband to help, on a different continent from the rest of my family. Fortunately for me, I have some awesome friends here who I know are more than willing to help out. But Marshall is her dad. He needs to be here to bond with her. Babies change so quickly. Those first few weeks are going to be tough. I always pictured giving birth to Jilly with Marshall right there, enjoying time together the three of us as a family. Passing her back and forth between us. Getting to see the look on his face when she first arrives. And coming home, the three of us, to our apartment for the first time as a family. Taking turns watching her while we sleep. I've been daydreaming about seeing him with her just as much as seeing her with me.
It's all pretty shitty. We're both stressed to the max about this, wondering where we're going to be three months from now and if we'll be able to provide a good life for Jilly. As a new mom, I've discovered the stress of moments like this when it comes to your child's future is worse than anything I've experienced. I'll be honest, I try to put up a brave front in front of my husband and friends and family, but there's been numerous times where I've just gone into the shower and cried for my daughter and our future. It's all so unfair. I look at the overweight Air Force people, the ones with pre-existing conditions, heart or breathing problems, etc., and wonder why my husband, who is perfectly healthy just randomly has hives sometimes, why does he have to be the one to be on the chopping block. And to have this all happen at a time in our lives that's supposed to be so full of joy. My daughter's impending birth is being taken over by a giant storm cloud. I feel pressure from myself to have her today, right now, or tomorrow, so that I know with certainty that Marshall will be here and they can have some time together bonding before he needs to leave. It's not like he's going to be gone a really long time or anything. But if I go by the stereotypical first time mom standard of being like a week overdue, than he will not be here for her birth. He'll miss the first moments of her life. He'll never be able to get that time back. That's a moment that can never be relived, and it breaks my heart for him.
So, after all this craziness, I ask that you all please pray for us. Pray that my husband will be able to keep his job. Pray that our future will still be secure, and I won't have to feel guilty about bringing a baby into the world at this tumultuous time in our lives. Pray that no matter how things work out, we will be able to find a way to take care of our daughter, and provide her with everything she needs.
Lastly, and selfishly on my part, pray that she comes very soon. Pray that Marshall will be able to see her take her first breath, and that we can have some time blissfully as the three of us before reality takes us back in and we have to worry about our future again.
Thank you all.
I'm going to try to make a very, very long story short. Marshall joined the Air Force shortly after we got married. He's been in for 2.5 years now, and he loves it. He wants to make this his career. He excels at his job, has been given duties way above and beyond his pay grade, and has been recognized countless times for his excellent service. He just got promoted to Senior Airman, woo hoo, which is a time in service promotion but still exciting nonetheless. He loves what he does, and he's proud of himself for what he does, and as his wife seeing him so proud and happy makes my heart swell with joy for him.
In September of 2009, so about 9 months after we moved here to Germany, my husband had something strange happen. He was working, going about his day as usual, when he broke out in this weird and painful rash. The first time it happened, no one really though anything of it. The second time, a few days later, we all started to wonder what was going on. One day, after he broke out, work sent him to the ER, where they referred him to an allergist. Skipping forward a bit, Marshall is diagnosed with chronic urticaria. This means, he randomly breaks out in painful hives from time to time, a couple times a week on average. The break outs last about five minutes, then he's fine. His particular kind is cholinergic urticaria, which means it's induced by heat, extreme physical exertion, and stress. What's funny is, you never know what's going to set this off. I've seen him pick me up and carry me around no problem, but pick up a five gallon bucket and suddenly need to go outside because he's breaking out. Totally weird.
He's been on a profile at work for a little over a year. This means, they've restricted what he can do while this is happening. Mainly, he can't deploy because of concerns about the desert heat and his condition. I'll admit, I never thought anything of it. This has just become a part of our lives, it's the norm now. I never once thought that these random breakouts a few times a month would affect our future. Especially since all the doctors we've talked to are extremely confident that this will go away, and is not a permanent condition.
In October, Marshall was notified that he was being medical boarded. Since he can't deploy, they might not want him in the Air Force anymore. A few weeks ago, the Informal board came back with a decision. Discharge from service with 10% severance. Basically, they'd give us a 90 day separation period, move us back to Ohio, give us a couple thousand dollars if we're lucky, and wish us well. The end. No benefits. No backup plan. Just gone. Obviously, this is not what we want to hear, especially with a brand new baby coming. We decided Marshall would contest the findings, sending the decision to the next level, the Formal Board.
With the Formal Board, Marshall will have to go to Texas and meet with a group of medical professionals and Air Force people and be able to argue his case: that he wants to make the Air Force a career, his condition does not impact his quality of work, and that he is worth fighting for and wants to keep his job. It's our last stand before the final blow. He'll find out right then and there whether or not we'll still have a clear defined future, or if we're suddenly going to be two unemployed adults with a baby and no way to support ourselves or provide for her.
Now, let's throw some more stress into the mix. Marshall got the date for his hearing yesterday. It's February 3. He'll have to leave probably Jan. 31 or Feb. 1. This would be perfectly fine if I wasn't due to have our baby on January 29. The 3rd is only 5 days past my due date. If Marshall has to leave on the 1st, that's 3 days past my due date. There is a very, very good possibility that he's not going to be here when she's born. He's upset because he might miss the birth of his daughter, I'm upset because I don't know how I'm going to do this without him. And if she does come on time, he'll have to leave before we even get settled at home. I'm going to be having a baby and have a brand new baby with no husband to help, on a different continent from the rest of my family. Fortunately for me, I have some awesome friends here who I know are more than willing to help out. But Marshall is her dad. He needs to be here to bond with her. Babies change so quickly. Those first few weeks are going to be tough. I always pictured giving birth to Jilly with Marshall right there, enjoying time together the three of us as a family. Passing her back and forth between us. Getting to see the look on his face when she first arrives. And coming home, the three of us, to our apartment for the first time as a family. Taking turns watching her while we sleep. I've been daydreaming about seeing him with her just as much as seeing her with me.
It's all pretty shitty. We're both stressed to the max about this, wondering where we're going to be three months from now and if we'll be able to provide a good life for Jilly. As a new mom, I've discovered the stress of moments like this when it comes to your child's future is worse than anything I've experienced. I'll be honest, I try to put up a brave front in front of my husband and friends and family, but there's been numerous times where I've just gone into the shower and cried for my daughter and our future. It's all so unfair. I look at the overweight Air Force people, the ones with pre-existing conditions, heart or breathing problems, etc., and wonder why my husband, who is perfectly healthy just randomly has hives sometimes, why does he have to be the one to be on the chopping block. And to have this all happen at a time in our lives that's supposed to be so full of joy. My daughter's impending birth is being taken over by a giant storm cloud. I feel pressure from myself to have her today, right now, or tomorrow, so that I know with certainty that Marshall will be here and they can have some time together bonding before he needs to leave. It's not like he's going to be gone a really long time or anything. But if I go by the stereotypical first time mom standard of being like a week overdue, than he will not be here for her birth. He'll miss the first moments of her life. He'll never be able to get that time back. That's a moment that can never be relived, and it breaks my heart for him.
So, after all this craziness, I ask that you all please pray for us. Pray that my husband will be able to keep his job. Pray that our future will still be secure, and I won't have to feel guilty about bringing a baby into the world at this tumultuous time in our lives. Pray that no matter how things work out, we will be able to find a way to take care of our daughter, and provide her with everything she needs.
Lastly, and selfishly on my part, pray that she comes very soon. Pray that Marshall will be able to see her take her first breath, and that we can have some time blissfully as the three of us before reality takes us back in and we have to worry about our future again.
Thank you all.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Optimism
I've always felt that the power of the mind can greatly influence our health and well-being. Kind of like a sense of karma, I believe that negativity breeds negativity, therefore positivity breeds positivity. I know, I know, I'm full of that weird hippy nonsense. It's okay. I like it.
But like all people (even the weird, crazy, and slightly neurotic ones), my optimism can sometimes be dealt a crushing blow. Usually, this causes two reactions from me: one, I go into hysterical panic mode while my mind reboots itself (and all I can picture here is that scene from Stepford Wives with the "Do-Si-Do" wife spinning like a top on the dance floor until she burns out); or two, I make myself smile, reiterate the importance of positive thinking, sometimes overcompensate, but mostly just brush it off and think of the positive aspects of whatever crash and burn scenario is playing out. Sometimes, the crushing blow is a series of little reminders, much like today.
Now, I've been feeling pretty good lately. Sure, I may be more uncomfortable than I ever thought possible, what with the swelling, insomnia, fatigue, and small baby's butt and feet pushing up into my ribcage in a mocking manner. In fact, I may be downright tired of being pregnant. But, I'm so, so, SO freaking excited to meet my Jillian that I've been overcome by that love and feel anxious as ever to meet her. In a good way.
For the past week, I've been getting this undeniable feeling that things are coming to an end. That it's not going to be much longer, and that I'm not going to make it to the end of the month. Yup, I'm saying it, I've got a hunkering that Jilly's arrival will be sooner rather than later. Why? I've got reasons. I could go into these individually and fill you in on the exciting and sometimes disgusting symptoms of prelabor. Or you could just take my word for it. Open up a copy of any pregnancy book or google search prelabor symptoms. I have most of them, I assure you.
Mostly, I just have this nagging voice constantly telling me to prepare, prepare, prepare! This crazy, frenetic feeling making me believe that time is of the essence. These sudden waves of anxiety and excitement, and an emerging giddiness that causes me to leap off the couch and pace throughout my house like a lunatic, all the while making lists and more lists, packing and repacking, folding and refolding. Today, I've been topping this off with an off and on cramping feeling with accompanying backache. The waves of discomfort hit me and flow over me, then drain away. It's a new sensation, different than the braxton hicks contractions I've been feeling for the past couple months. It makes me even more anxious, and I pace during the spells like an animal trapped in a cage. No, I'm not in labor, but my body is preparing.
It's no wonder I'm feeling excited. All signs are pointing towards "Go!" Woo hoo! But then, today, I get those reminders that I'm probably just crazy. And I have to admit they're probably right. It seems like everyone I know has gone overdue with their first baby. Except my mom, and my aunt, and my grandma, and pretty much my mom's whole side of the family. But statistically, the odds are not in my favor. In fact, the odds are more in favor that I'm still going to be pregnant 5 weeks from now than not pregnant 2 weeks from now. And then I think, every first time mom is probably thinking they'll have their baby any day now starting at 36ish weeks, like me, and they all end up being 41-42 weeks pregnant by the time they get to meet their babies. And that depresses me greatly. I feel good and confident that Jilly will come when she is ready, but I feel terrified that it's going to be several weeks before that day comes. Selfishly, I want her now! But I know that won't happen. I don't expect it to. I don't expect anything, really, since I'm insane.
I try to ignore my body. Ignore the anxious feelings. Supress them until it's closer to time. Maybe at 39 weeks I can allow myself this feeling of being on the brink. But not at almost 37. I don't start weekly appointments or cervical checks until 38 weeks. It doesn't really bother me, except for the little voice telling me I'm not going to make it that far. I don't really want to be checked in some ways, nervous about the anxiety it may cause if the news is that I'm doing nothing. But, than again, if I was checked today and told I was doing something I'd feel justified.
My optimism is fading. I feel stupid and upset by my feelings. But, I try to stay optimistic. Maybe Jilly can feel that positve vibe, and maybe that'll be enough to make her want to meet me soon. So when I type of her arrival, and I speak as if it's imminent, it's me trying to continue my blind optimism. Maybe she'll feel my thoughts of "Hey, it's okay. The world is a great place, anxious to meet you. You don't need to be afraid. I'm ready, and I love you, and your Daddy is ready, and he loves you. In fact, everyone is ready, and they all love you so much. You are going to change everyone's lives and make them all better. I promise, I'll be here for you, and I won't let anything bad happen." Maybe, that optimism and faith will be enough to keep me sane for the next few days or 5 weeks before I meet her. I'm positive it will be.
But like all people (even the weird, crazy, and slightly neurotic ones), my optimism can sometimes be dealt a crushing blow. Usually, this causes two reactions from me: one, I go into hysterical panic mode while my mind reboots itself (and all I can picture here is that scene from Stepford Wives with the "Do-Si-Do" wife spinning like a top on the dance floor until she burns out); or two, I make myself smile, reiterate the importance of positive thinking, sometimes overcompensate, but mostly just brush it off and think of the positive aspects of whatever crash and burn scenario is playing out. Sometimes, the crushing blow is a series of little reminders, much like today.
Now, I've been feeling pretty good lately. Sure, I may be more uncomfortable than I ever thought possible, what with the swelling, insomnia, fatigue, and small baby's butt and feet pushing up into my ribcage in a mocking manner. In fact, I may be downright tired of being pregnant. But, I'm so, so, SO freaking excited to meet my Jillian that I've been overcome by that love and feel anxious as ever to meet her. In a good way.
For the past week, I've been getting this undeniable feeling that things are coming to an end. That it's not going to be much longer, and that I'm not going to make it to the end of the month. Yup, I'm saying it, I've got a hunkering that Jilly's arrival will be sooner rather than later. Why? I've got reasons. I could go into these individually and fill you in on the exciting and sometimes disgusting symptoms of prelabor. Or you could just take my word for it. Open up a copy of any pregnancy book or google search prelabor symptoms. I have most of them, I assure you.
Mostly, I just have this nagging voice constantly telling me to prepare, prepare, prepare! This crazy, frenetic feeling making me believe that time is of the essence. These sudden waves of anxiety and excitement, and an emerging giddiness that causes me to leap off the couch and pace throughout my house like a lunatic, all the while making lists and more lists, packing and repacking, folding and refolding. Today, I've been topping this off with an off and on cramping feeling with accompanying backache. The waves of discomfort hit me and flow over me, then drain away. It's a new sensation, different than the braxton hicks contractions I've been feeling for the past couple months. It makes me even more anxious, and I pace during the spells like an animal trapped in a cage. No, I'm not in labor, but my body is preparing.
It's no wonder I'm feeling excited. All signs are pointing towards "Go!" Woo hoo! But then, today, I get those reminders that I'm probably just crazy. And I have to admit they're probably right. It seems like everyone I know has gone overdue with their first baby. Except my mom, and my aunt, and my grandma, and pretty much my mom's whole side of the family. But statistically, the odds are not in my favor. In fact, the odds are more in favor that I'm still going to be pregnant 5 weeks from now than not pregnant 2 weeks from now. And then I think, every first time mom is probably thinking they'll have their baby any day now starting at 36ish weeks, like me, and they all end up being 41-42 weeks pregnant by the time they get to meet their babies. And that depresses me greatly. I feel good and confident that Jilly will come when she is ready, but I feel terrified that it's going to be several weeks before that day comes. Selfishly, I want her now! But I know that won't happen. I don't expect it to. I don't expect anything, really, since I'm insane.
I try to ignore my body. Ignore the anxious feelings. Supress them until it's closer to time. Maybe at 39 weeks I can allow myself this feeling of being on the brink. But not at almost 37. I don't start weekly appointments or cervical checks until 38 weeks. It doesn't really bother me, except for the little voice telling me I'm not going to make it that far. I don't really want to be checked in some ways, nervous about the anxiety it may cause if the news is that I'm doing nothing. But, than again, if I was checked today and told I was doing something I'd feel justified.
My optimism is fading. I feel stupid and upset by my feelings. But, I try to stay optimistic. Maybe Jilly can feel that positve vibe, and maybe that'll be enough to make her want to meet me soon. So when I type of her arrival, and I speak as if it's imminent, it's me trying to continue my blind optimism. Maybe she'll feel my thoughts of "Hey, it's okay. The world is a great place, anxious to meet you. You don't need to be afraid. I'm ready, and I love you, and your Daddy is ready, and he loves you. In fact, everyone is ready, and they all love you so much. You are going to change everyone's lives and make them all better. I promise, I'll be here for you, and I won't let anything bad happen." Maybe, that optimism and faith will be enough to keep me sane for the next few days or 5 weeks before I meet her. I'm positive it will be.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
The Ninth Month
You know that feeling when you're waiting in line for your favorite roller coaster? You jump in line, as excited as can be, and as you slowly weave your way through the barricades and up to the platform your excitement grows and grows. As you start to climb up and can see the end of the line in sight you start to feel a little bit of nerves. When your train pulls into the station and it's your turn to jump on board, your tummy fills with butterflies, and more gather there as you pull down that lap bar or harness and you start to move. Slowly, you climb that first hill, watching the ground get farther away and the people you left behind in line shrink in size. Meanwhile, your pulse starts to race. You look at the person next to you and nervously smile or laugh, excitement and anticipation building to the point of extreme. The crest of the first hill is just moments away, and as you round over the hump and momentum starts to build your mind blanks, you adrenaline skyrockets, your knuckles turn white, and you wonder for a brief second what the hell you got yourself into before plunging down at breakneck speed. Before you know it, your back at the station, feeling shaken, excited, anxious, giggly, and most of all like you're on top of the world. That's exactly how being pregnant has felt to me.
Finding out I was pregnant was a welcome excitement. I jumped in line whole heartedly, feeling little apprehension about becoming a mother and pure and raw enthusiasm for the little life residing in my belly. Of course, there was disbelief at first, a self-preservation kind of denial the first few weeks out of fear of losing that little miracle. We had decided to start trying for a family well over a year before Jillian arrived in our lives, and with one unsuccessful pregnancy under our belts we both felt a slight detachment from the reality growing inside of me. Much like the unfocus of entering the queue of a ride, we were excited of the prospect, but desensitized to the reality.
As I started puking my guts out daily, sending tearfilled thank you prayers to God for the multiple daily reminders of my little miracle, my attachment for that little raspberry sized person grew immensely. At 6 weeks, we had seen her heartbeat and her existence, plus her presence had started to take its toll on my physicality. And every time I felt sick or nauseous, I felt thankful to know she was there, living, thriving, and using me for her betterment. By the time I hit 10 weeks, I clung to her with an attachment that I had never experienced. She was mine, and I was hers, and I was falling in love.
By 20 weeks, I was head over heels. I was at the middle of my journey. She was a wild thing, kicking and twisting and somersaulting through the days like an expert gymnast at the Olympics. With each kick, I loved her more. With each kick, my future became more defined. I was becoming a mother. What did this mean? Everything was changing so rapidly. Physically, my tiny little baby bump was growing into an unmistakable mark of a child's presence. My house was changing, with rooms rearranging and baby items taking over once empty spaces. Emotionally, I was starting to understand the gravity of life's new role for me. My marriage was changing, with my husband connecting with our baby as he started feeling and seeing her movements. A new girl was entering his life and changing his role, and he was beginning to understand along with me that our lives were no longer our own. They belong to her, the keeper of our hearts. Apprehension started to grow, much like the rider who now finds himself closer to the front of the line than the back.
When my third trimester started, I found myself hit by a whole new set of nerves. This little girl is going to have to come out somehow, and no matter how she does it, it is not going to be pretty. I remain dumfounded at how this child can possibly come out of me. Yes, I know how it works. And yes, I know it's going to happen. But woah, nelly! Back the truck up! She's big! I'm climbing the stairs to the platform and waiting to strap myself in, looking at that first hill and thinking to myself I'm crazy for doing this. And yet, the apprehension of how does not even come close to the excitement of why. Why am I doing this? Because I've been given the greatest gift on the planet, and I love this little girl more than I thought it was possible to love anyone. I wake up every day feeling lucky, grateful, thankful, and appreciative that God has chosen to bless us with her. Sometimes, I feel as though she asked God to be placed with us and picked us to be her parents, and I feel even luckier. Time to buckle up! This train is on its safety check and getting ready to leave the station!
Now, at 36 weeks, I think back over the past eight months and wonder where the time went. I think back to our struggle to conceive; the excitement of wondering if this was our month, the disappointment at discovering it wasn't, the sleeplessness at wondering if I was broken, and the longing and sadness in wondering if it will ever happen for us. None of that matters now. Now I understand. We had to wait for Jillian. She is our perfect addition, and we were waiting for her. In fact, I've been waiting my entire life to meet her. She is my reason for being. As we enter the "any day now" phase of our journey, I no longer feel scared of how she's going to arrive. I'm waiting for that moment, welcoming it, and excited to experience the complete and total miracle that is giving birth. As I start to notice prelabor signs in myself, I start to feel anxiety about how much longer I'm going to have to wait. I long to see her, and hold her, and feed her. When she gets here, I will look into her eyes and say "Hi, Jilly. I'm your mommy." I know she'll be beautiful. She's perfect already. I'm not nervous. I'm ready. And in a few short weeks, I'll have her. And on that day, my life with be complete.
The train is starting to crank up that first hill. Marshall and I are looking to each other with smiles and excitement. We don't know what's to come, but we welcome it. We've enjoyed the wait. Now it's time to enjoy the ride.
Finding out I was pregnant was a welcome excitement. I jumped in line whole heartedly, feeling little apprehension about becoming a mother and pure and raw enthusiasm for the little life residing in my belly. Of course, there was disbelief at first, a self-preservation kind of denial the first few weeks out of fear of losing that little miracle. We had decided to start trying for a family well over a year before Jillian arrived in our lives, and with one unsuccessful pregnancy under our belts we both felt a slight detachment from the reality growing inside of me. Much like the unfocus of entering the queue of a ride, we were excited of the prospect, but desensitized to the reality.
As I started puking my guts out daily, sending tearfilled thank you prayers to God for the multiple daily reminders of my little miracle, my attachment for that little raspberry sized person grew immensely. At 6 weeks, we had seen her heartbeat and her existence, plus her presence had started to take its toll on my physicality. And every time I felt sick or nauseous, I felt thankful to know she was there, living, thriving, and using me for her betterment. By the time I hit 10 weeks, I clung to her with an attachment that I had never experienced. She was mine, and I was hers, and I was falling in love.
By 20 weeks, I was head over heels. I was at the middle of my journey. She was a wild thing, kicking and twisting and somersaulting through the days like an expert gymnast at the Olympics. With each kick, I loved her more. With each kick, my future became more defined. I was becoming a mother. What did this mean? Everything was changing so rapidly. Physically, my tiny little baby bump was growing into an unmistakable mark of a child's presence. My house was changing, with rooms rearranging and baby items taking over once empty spaces. Emotionally, I was starting to understand the gravity of life's new role for me. My marriage was changing, with my husband connecting with our baby as he started feeling and seeing her movements. A new girl was entering his life and changing his role, and he was beginning to understand along with me that our lives were no longer our own. They belong to her, the keeper of our hearts. Apprehension started to grow, much like the rider who now finds himself closer to the front of the line than the back.
When my third trimester started, I found myself hit by a whole new set of nerves. This little girl is going to have to come out somehow, and no matter how she does it, it is not going to be pretty. I remain dumfounded at how this child can possibly come out of me. Yes, I know how it works. And yes, I know it's going to happen. But woah, nelly! Back the truck up! She's big! I'm climbing the stairs to the platform and waiting to strap myself in, looking at that first hill and thinking to myself I'm crazy for doing this. And yet, the apprehension of how does not even come close to the excitement of why. Why am I doing this? Because I've been given the greatest gift on the planet, and I love this little girl more than I thought it was possible to love anyone. I wake up every day feeling lucky, grateful, thankful, and appreciative that God has chosen to bless us with her. Sometimes, I feel as though she asked God to be placed with us and picked us to be her parents, and I feel even luckier. Time to buckle up! This train is on its safety check and getting ready to leave the station!
Now, at 36 weeks, I think back over the past eight months and wonder where the time went. I think back to our struggle to conceive; the excitement of wondering if this was our month, the disappointment at discovering it wasn't, the sleeplessness at wondering if I was broken, and the longing and sadness in wondering if it will ever happen for us. None of that matters now. Now I understand. We had to wait for Jillian. She is our perfect addition, and we were waiting for her. In fact, I've been waiting my entire life to meet her. She is my reason for being. As we enter the "any day now" phase of our journey, I no longer feel scared of how she's going to arrive. I'm waiting for that moment, welcoming it, and excited to experience the complete and total miracle that is giving birth. As I start to notice prelabor signs in myself, I start to feel anxiety about how much longer I'm going to have to wait. I long to see her, and hold her, and feed her. When she gets here, I will look into her eyes and say "Hi, Jilly. I'm your mommy." I know she'll be beautiful. She's perfect already. I'm not nervous. I'm ready. And in a few short weeks, I'll have her. And on that day, my life with be complete.
The train is starting to crank up that first hill. Marshall and I are looking to each other with smiles and excitement. We don't know what's to come, but we welcome it. We've enjoyed the wait. Now it's time to enjoy the ride.
Friday, December 24, 2010
12 Days of Christmas
Okay, so these aren't exactly days, per se, more like "12 Events of Christmas" but you get the picture. The past few years, as I've grown into an adult (or at least tried to become an adult, hee hee) I've used Christmas as a day to reflect on the events of the year that have shaped me into who I am. Usually, I just do this to myself at night while trying to fall asleep, but this year is a little different. This year, I'm pregnant. Not just pregnant, uncomfortably pregnant at this point. This means less sleeping, more awkwardness getting up off of or out of things like furniture, and much more crankiness than usual. I haven't been particularly Christmas-y or as grateful as I should be the past few days. In fact, I've been pretty moody and mean to those around me as I tire of this pregnancy game and become more frustrated by the fact that it seems like it will never end. When will it end?! When?! WHEN?! *mental breakdown complete*
So, as a new blogger and someone who needs a reminder of just how far I've come in the past year, I give you....drumroll please....Lisa's 12 Events of Christmas/Favorite Things! These are the most memorable moments of my past year. Wooooo! In the form of a countdown! Double woooooo! In somewhat chronological order! More applause please, mwah ha ha! Okay, here we go!
12. The Friendships - Our 2nd year here in Deutschland couldn't be more different than the 1st. While year one was filled with hardships and trials for us individually and as a couple, and lots of loneliness as we struggled to find where to fit in (me especially here), year two started out with a bang, as we kindled new friendships formed at the end of last year. And our list of friendships has grown considerably over this year. Suddenly, we had a group of friends, and suddenly, we felt like we belonged here. Most notably, our Glee nights, BX lunch dates, shopping trips, and really late nights staying up chatting have made me love all of you.
11. The Play - I tapped into my love for acting and auditioned for "Cinderella" on base, landing the role of Gwendolyn the Well Wisher (aka, the fairy godmother character). It was a blast! I met some great people through the process, and really enjoyed doing children's theater. I was even nominated for a Topper Award for my performance, which are the acting awards for all the military bases in Europe. Go me!
I loved it! This hairstyle was decided the night of (yeah, I'm backtracking a bit)...
8. The Wine Party - What better concept is there? Everyone bring a bottle of wine (or two, three, whatever), and we all try to sample each others. This night pretty much ended with the four of us ladies drinking about 8 or 9 bottles and staying up all night talking about this and that. Plus, my friend Krissy brought her hookah, so it was a wine/hookah party. Right on! Shortly after the wine party was...
7. The Anniversary - Marshall and I celebrated 2 years of marriage this year. We went on a trip to one of our favorite cities around, Trier. Marshall started night shift right after our anniversay, but we spend the whole weekend of his going out and enjoying each other. It was kind of a 3 day event, with one day going to Trier, and the other two going out to eat, bowling, and just generally goofing off. Then, about 2 weeks later, we had...
6. The Test - The longest 3 minutes of any woman's life. Even if you have been trying to have a baby for over a year and took them pretty much monthly (until deciding to stop trying the month before). And when you go so long seeing "Not Pregnant" on a test, it's really easy to convince yourself the test is broken when after three minutes you read the word "Pregnant." Leading to the taking of other tests. Compulsively. Until, 7 tests in all, you can't deny the truth. I. Am. Pregnant. Squeals of delight!
Finding out you're pregnant leads to...
5. The Ultrasound - Or ultrasounds, in my case. At 6 weeks, learning there really was a baby (I wasn't puking my guts out for nothing!) who had a heartbeat. She was alive! At 8 weeks, when spotting sent me into panic mode and I feared the worst for our little bean, to learn she was still alive! At 12 weeks, watching her acrobatics as she jumped and twisted and turned, all while about 3 inches long, and making me fall deeply and madly in love with her. At 18 weeks, after falling off my mom's porch steps, where we learned baby was a little girl. At 21 weeks, where we learned she was perfect and healthy. And at 31 weeks, where we got to just have fun, and I saw her hair, her nose, her chubby baby cheeks, her long legs and her ability to blow bubbles and make kissy faces as she practiced her sucking. I'm the luckiest momma in the world, that's for sure!
4. The Kick - I remember when I first felt her undeniable kicks. I'd been feeling little flutters, but very subtle. I was 17 weeks, and at my mom's house while on vacation over the summer. I was sitting in her puffy chair when WHAM! A not so subtle pop in my belly, and I knew it was her. She's such a strong little thing!
3. The Band (Part Deux) - Band #2 is in full swing, as shown in a previous post. You can go there for more info! But man, I love singing and it sure it fun to get to play rock star!
2. The Visit - My mom coming to visit earlier this month was truly a highlight of my year. Although it snowed sheets the whole time she was here and she didn't really get to see much, I'd selfishly almost rather have it that way. We got to spend our time together talking and chatting, and I didn't have to share her with anyone! We prepped for Jilly's arrival, too. Thank you Mom, for your visit and help. I love you!
And #1, and truly the greatest thing to happen to me...
1. The Family - No, this isn't an event. But in thinking about this past year, I discovered a theme: family. Our trip home to the States this summer was wonderful, as we got to spend time with our family. Cookouts, dinners, and get togethers in homes made our trip so special. Our friends here who have become our family have made us feel so blessed and supported.
But mainly, my husband and the daughter he gave me. Marshall, you are the best husband any woman could ask for. You continue to be my rock, unwavering through good and bad. You put up with my craziness, and my super hormonal craziness through the past months, and I am so happy you're mine. You're more than I deserve, and I love you. And now, I can say every day I love you more and more, as you have given me the best gift anyone could possibly give. My baby girl. Thank you. And Jillian, I cannot wait to meet you. I love you so much, and I haven't ever seen your face. But when I do, I can't wait to look into your eyes, kiss your cute baby cheek, introduce myself, and be your mother. Life isn't perfect, but right now, mine feels pretty damn close. ♥
So, as a new blogger and someone who needs a reminder of just how far I've come in the past year, I give you....drumroll please....Lisa's 12 Events of Christmas/Favorite Things! These are the most memorable moments of my past year. Wooooo! In the form of a countdown! Double woooooo! In somewhat chronological order! More applause please, mwah ha ha! Okay, here we go!
12. The Friendships - Our 2nd year here in Deutschland couldn't be more different than the 1st. While year one was filled with hardships and trials for us individually and as a couple, and lots of loneliness as we struggled to find where to fit in (me especially here), year two started out with a bang, as we kindled new friendships formed at the end of last year. And our list of friendships has grown considerably over this year. Suddenly, we had a group of friends, and suddenly, we felt like we belonged here. Most notably, our Glee nights, BX lunch dates, shopping trips, and really late nights staying up chatting have made me love all of you.
11. The Play - I tapped into my love for acting and auditioned for "Cinderella" on base, landing the role of Gwendolyn the Well Wisher (aka, the fairy godmother character). It was a blast! I met some great people through the process, and really enjoyed doing children's theater. I was even nominated for a Topper Award for my performance, which are the acting awards for all the military bases in Europe. Go me!
Of course, with my love for singing and performing comes...
10. The Band (Part Uno) - Being a part of Risen really helped me out of my shell this year. It helped me become confident as a singer. And, I love my bandmates. I miss my bandmates. Good times to be had for sure!
The rock star rebelliousness caught up to me, and I infamously decided to dye my hair...
9. The Red - Bright red hair with black underneath. Oh yeah! What could be more fun? This was around the time we decided to stop trying to have a baby, and I needed a change. Bam! Change!
8. The Wine Party - What better concept is there? Everyone bring a bottle of wine (or two, three, whatever), and we all try to sample each others. This night pretty much ended with the four of us ladies drinking about 8 or 9 bottles and staying up all night talking about this and that. Plus, my friend Krissy brought her hookah, so it was a wine/hookah party. Right on! Shortly after the wine party was...
7. The Anniversary - Marshall and I celebrated 2 years of marriage this year. We went on a trip to one of our favorite cities around, Trier. Marshall started night shift right after our anniversay, but we spend the whole weekend of his going out and enjoying each other. It was kind of a 3 day event, with one day going to Trier, and the other two going out to eat, bowling, and just generally goofing off. Then, about 2 weeks later, we had...
6. The Test - The longest 3 minutes of any woman's life. Even if you have been trying to have a baby for over a year and took them pretty much monthly (until deciding to stop trying the month before). And when you go so long seeing "Not Pregnant" on a test, it's really easy to convince yourself the test is broken when after three minutes you read the word "Pregnant." Leading to the taking of other tests. Compulsively. Until, 7 tests in all, you can't deny the truth. I. Am. Pregnant. Squeals of delight!
5. The Ultrasound - Or ultrasounds, in my case. At 6 weeks, learning there really was a baby (I wasn't puking my guts out for nothing!) who had a heartbeat. She was alive! At 8 weeks, when spotting sent me into panic mode and I feared the worst for our little bean, to learn she was still alive! At 12 weeks, watching her acrobatics as she jumped and twisted and turned, all while about 3 inches long, and making me fall deeply and madly in love with her. At 18 weeks, after falling off my mom's porch steps, where we learned baby was a little girl. At 21 weeks, where we learned she was perfect and healthy. And at 31 weeks, where we got to just have fun, and I saw her hair, her nose, her chubby baby cheeks, her long legs and her ability to blow bubbles and make kissy faces as she practiced her sucking. I'm the luckiest momma in the world, that's for sure!
4. The Kick - I remember when I first felt her undeniable kicks. I'd been feeling little flutters, but very subtle. I was 17 weeks, and at my mom's house while on vacation over the summer. I was sitting in her puffy chair when WHAM! A not so subtle pop in my belly, and I knew it was her. She's such a strong little thing!
3. The Band (Part Deux) - Band #2 is in full swing, as shown in a previous post. You can go there for more info! But man, I love singing and it sure it fun to get to play rock star!
2. The Visit - My mom coming to visit earlier this month was truly a highlight of my year. Although it snowed sheets the whole time she was here and she didn't really get to see much, I'd selfishly almost rather have it that way. We got to spend our time together talking and chatting, and I didn't have to share her with anyone! We prepped for Jilly's arrival, too. Thank you Mom, for your visit and help. I love you!
1. The Family - No, this isn't an event. But in thinking about this past year, I discovered a theme: family. Our trip home to the States this summer was wonderful, as we got to spend time with our family. Cookouts, dinners, and get togethers in homes made our trip so special. Our friends here who have become our family have made us feel so blessed and supported.
But mainly, my husband and the daughter he gave me. Marshall, you are the best husband any woman could ask for. You continue to be my rock, unwavering through good and bad. You put up with my craziness, and my super hormonal craziness through the past months, and I am so happy you're mine. You're more than I deserve, and I love you. And now, I can say every day I love you more and more, as you have given me the best gift anyone could possibly give. My baby girl. Thank you. And Jillian, I cannot wait to meet you. I love you so much, and I haven't ever seen your face. But when I do, I can't wait to look into your eyes, kiss your cute baby cheek, introduce myself, and be your mother. Life isn't perfect, but right now, mine feels pretty damn close. ♥
Of course, there's been a ton of other things that pop into my head as I right this. Mainly my job, and lots of other Jillian facts and things she's done as she's grown (and caused me to do as she's grown!). But I think this list pretty much covers why my year has been so great. And this did serve it's purpose, and I feel full of cheer now as I re-read this. Merry Christmas to all of you and your families! May God bless you all through the upcoming year. I have a feeling 2011 will bring bigger and better things for all of us!
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Comfort Food!
Well I haven't been doing a very good job of keeping up with this the past few weeks. With the holidays rapidly approaching, and Jillian's arrival sneaking up on us just as quickly, there's been a lot of chaos. So we'll start back up again with a food post, my favorite kind. Yum!
I think we can all agree there's nothing better than digging into your comfort food on a winter's day, especially when you've had an odd day/week/whatever. And I've had a weird couple of days and sleepless nights. With five and a half weeks to go until Jilly's due date, I'm starting to feel like my body is falling apart. In the past week, I've been able to breath better and have had less heartburn with Jilly not living in my ribs anymore, but this has come at a price. Now, I'm having a lot of discomfort in my, ahem, lower regions. She hasn't dropped yet, but I think she's starting her descent down and nestling into my pelvis. Yay for Jilly, as that's exactly where she needs to be. Along with this, I've had an insane number of contractions over the past few days. I'm not dehydrated in the slightest and drinking plenty of water, and they're definately not regular, closer together, but they're persistant and annoying nonetheless. Seems like my body is really starting to get ready for the upcoming task at hand, and Jilly's getting ready for her big debut!
Anyway, back to the comfort food. As I've said before in posts, with Marshall working 12 hour nightshifts I get a lot of evenings by myself to experiment in the kitchen. And tonight, I started thinking about multiple comfort meals at once: shepherd's pie, chicken pot pie, and mostly mashed potatoes smothered in gravy (which is weird b/c I don't normally like gravy!). Checking my cupboads, I decided to improvise and combine the three meals together.
So, I set out on a mission to do something I've never done before: make a homemade gravy. I had a can of chicken broth in the pantry, and figured I could stumble my way through figuring out how to gravy-fy that. I started the same way I make a roux, with 2 Tbsp butter, melted in a pan, topped with 2 Tbsp flour, and whisked constantly to make a past over medium heat. Then, I added in the can of chicken broth and 1/2 cup milk, continuing to mix until completely mixed. I added in 1 Tbsp. minced onion and sprinkled in some pepper. I ended up adding about another Tbsp. on flour to thicken the gravy. While all this was going on, I cheated on the mashed potatoes and used boxed instant mashed potatoes, so those were cooking while the gravy was thickening. In addition to all that, I had some frozen mixed veggies cooking in the microwave.
After I got the gravy to a thick consistency, I added in a 9 oz. can of chicken breast, drained and shredded. I wish I had a 12 oz. can, because I think it needed a little more. I whisked that into the gravy, which shredded the chicken a little more and mixed it all together. Finally I added the mixed veggies to the mixture. I kept it cooking on medium heat until heated through.
I scooped myself a plateful of mashed potatoes, and topped it with the gravy mixture. And it was delicious!
Like most good comfort foods, it looks...interesting...to put it nicely. But looks can definately be deceiving, as it tasted amazing. Comfort food at it's finest, and all from a few things I keep in my pantry at all times anyway! I may have a new go-to meal.
Tomorrow Jillian and I have our 34 week appointment. We're going every two weeks now. I can't believe how soon her arrival will be. I'm having a baby next month, eek! As Marshall and I are preparing for Christmas, we're both getting really excited that this is our last Christmas as the two of us, and that next year we'll be celebrating Christmas as the three of us. I'm so looking forward to my baby girl's arrival!
I think we can all agree there's nothing better than digging into your comfort food on a winter's day, especially when you've had an odd day/week/whatever. And I've had a weird couple of days and sleepless nights. With five and a half weeks to go until Jilly's due date, I'm starting to feel like my body is falling apart. In the past week, I've been able to breath better and have had less heartburn with Jilly not living in my ribs anymore, but this has come at a price. Now, I'm having a lot of discomfort in my, ahem, lower regions. She hasn't dropped yet, but I think she's starting her descent down and nestling into my pelvis. Yay for Jilly, as that's exactly where she needs to be. Along with this, I've had an insane number of contractions over the past few days. I'm not dehydrated in the slightest and drinking plenty of water, and they're definately not regular, closer together, but they're persistant and annoying nonetheless. Seems like my body is really starting to get ready for the upcoming task at hand, and Jilly's getting ready for her big debut!
Anyway, back to the comfort food. As I've said before in posts, with Marshall working 12 hour nightshifts I get a lot of evenings by myself to experiment in the kitchen. And tonight, I started thinking about multiple comfort meals at once: shepherd's pie, chicken pot pie, and mostly mashed potatoes smothered in gravy (which is weird b/c I don't normally like gravy!). Checking my cupboads, I decided to improvise and combine the three meals together.
So, I set out on a mission to do something I've never done before: make a homemade gravy. I had a can of chicken broth in the pantry, and figured I could stumble my way through figuring out how to gravy-fy that. I started the same way I make a roux, with 2 Tbsp butter, melted in a pan, topped with 2 Tbsp flour, and whisked constantly to make a past over medium heat. Then, I added in the can of chicken broth and 1/2 cup milk, continuing to mix until completely mixed. I added in 1 Tbsp. minced onion and sprinkled in some pepper. I ended up adding about another Tbsp. on flour to thicken the gravy. While all this was going on, I cheated on the mashed potatoes and used boxed instant mashed potatoes, so those were cooking while the gravy was thickening. In addition to all that, I had some frozen mixed veggies cooking in the microwave.
After I got the gravy to a thick consistency, I added in a 9 oz. can of chicken breast, drained and shredded. I wish I had a 12 oz. can, because I think it needed a little more. I whisked that into the gravy, which shredded the chicken a little more and mixed it all together. Finally I added the mixed veggies to the mixture. I kept it cooking on medium heat until heated through.
I scooped myself a plateful of mashed potatoes, and topped it with the gravy mixture. And it was delicious!
Tomorrow Jillian and I have our 34 week appointment. We're going every two weeks now. I can't believe how soon her arrival will be. I'm having a baby next month, eek! As Marshall and I are preparing for Christmas, we're both getting really excited that this is our last Christmas as the two of us, and that next year we'll be celebrating Christmas as the three of us. I'm so looking forward to my baby girl's arrival!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)