More pictures of Ashleigh are up for your viewing pleasure.

I know it’s a couple days late, but Happy Holidays!

I almost forgot, but a big thank you to Melly for the foot rattles, toy, and sweater set. The items showed up the morning I went into the hospital to have Ashleigh (we were dawdling, didn’t think anything was happening), and well, I’ve been a little sidetracked since. Many thanks, lady. Don’t worry, Matthew will be here soon.

written 12/23
Mmm, nummy, John made some chocolate chip cookies. I am trying so very hard to not finish them off, as I’ve been doing well in the snack restraint department these days.

Ashleigh is all wrapped up and snuggling with daddy, and I’m finally getting a shot at my own computer. So far, I’d say today has been one of the best since she was born. Granted, it’s been pretty easy, as she sleeps an average of four to five hours at a time, which means I’m getting more sleep now than I was during my pregnancy, but it’s the breastfeeding that’s been tough. Luckily, today seems to be a good day, as she successfully fed off of mom’s fun bags TWICE, without me having to pump and feed with the bottle. The coolest thing about that is the position she prefers is laying on her back, with mommy laying next to her. Definitely more relaxing. Well, so long as I don’t relax my finger and cover her nostrils with my boob. We’re working on it.

I realize it’s not out of the ordinary for someone born a month early to have difficulty breastfeeding, but that doesn’t make it easier. I know I’m doing all I can, but seeing and hearing her cry when she can’t keep ahold of me tears me apart.

Most of the time I feel like I know what I’m doing and I don’t even second guess as I go through the day. Other times I’m struggling to keep from putting Ashleigh down and crying for hours. John has been my savior, so supportive and understanding. We’re a team when it comes to diaper changes and getting the little one dressed. When I need a break, he’s there to feed her (with the bottle of course), burp her, hold her, or even hold me.

I can’t believe Ashleigh will be a week old tomorrow night. All week it felt like she’d been with us for weeks, but now it feels like she’s only been around for a couple days. So much to get used to. I can’t stop looking at her, especially when she’s sleeping (which is most of the time), watching her expressions, and listening to her little squeaks. Sometimes I’m so amazed she’s mine and I have to press her cheek against me to feel her warmth. Now I look at myself in the mirror differently. I’m a mommy. I’m really a mommy.

I bet you’re thinking I just went on one of my usual leave of absences when it came to posting the past few days.
Guess again! Something actually happened other than my procrastination…

Ashleigh Erin was born on Monday, December 17th, 2001. She weighed 6 pounds 8 ounces and was 19 1/4 in length.

I’ll have the whole story in the near future, but honestly…it’s a pretty short one. She wanted to come out and sure didn’t waste her time, thank goodness. And even though she was a full month early (to the day), both her Apgar scores were nine and she definitely has a good set of lungs. Could a mom be any more proud?

Here’s a link
to the page which has six shots taken in the hospital today. The password is Hansen.

Also, a
few shots from our camera:

Brand new
With mommy
With daddy
Mummy baby
More mummy
G’night

Ok everybody, I have an announcement. There is a LOCK feature on your cell phone. USE IT. That way you won’t call someone you haven’t spoken with in months at 1:30AM or 7:30AM while your cell phone is bopping around in your pants. If you DO call me, don’t worry, I’ll use the wonderful *69 and caller-ID technology and call you back another time in the middle of the fucking night until I reach you. Sounds fair to me.

I suppose having a name start with the letter A didn’t help, as I’m sure I was the first person in their phone book, but it still pissed me off. Yesterday the numbskull woke us up and it took hours to get back to sleep. The idiot was lucky we were still awake, unable to sleep, when he called this morning. Fuckernut.

Warning, this post is packed with discussion of bodily fluids.

I made my first trip to Triage yesterday. Yes, I’m back at home, but it was enough excitement for me, and enough to remind me how close I really am to being a mom.

The past few nights I haven’t been able to sleep much, and my average bedtime is 5 am. Well, all Wednesday evening and through the night until 6am I felt like a leaky faucet. Every time I moved while sitting down I could feel something coming out down there. No baby heads or rainbow colored aliens, but something. The first few times I figured it was just leukorrhea, the fun, light-yellowish gunky type stuff that had become an everyday thing with the pregnancy. An annoying thing of the past months, but still, I knew what it was and accepted it, especially since it’s not like I could say “no, go back in my body”.

Then I realized this mystery substance wasn’t creamy. So I started feeling ridiculous, thinking maybe I just didn’t have enough control of my bladder. Those thoughts disappeared once I could tell where it was coming from. Nope, no lazy pee-stopping muscles. Whew!

By the time my brain clicked and the possibility of my amniotic fluid was leaking, it was 6am. Too early to call Gen, I finally made it to sleep, hoping it would just disappear when I woke up. At 11:30 I called Gen and we discussed it until she convinced me to call my doctor. After a few minutes waiting, I received a call back, and was told to head into Triage just to make sure everything was ok. Okie dokie.

During all the phone calls with Gen, the doc, and John, I was fine. No rushed or panicky moments. Nothing seemed like a big deal to me, and I just figured…well, if it is the amnio then I’ll be giving birth in the next twelve hours and that’s just how it was going to be. And then I walked down the hall to my door, opened it, and went to flip the lights off. All of a sudden all I could think was “it’s very possible I could be a mom the next time I step in this apartment”. So I kept the lights on and walked back through the hallway, pausing in each room. Finally, I made it to the door again and shut the lights off, ready to head down to Gen’s. It felt like one of those tv shows, at the very end of the series, where everyone says goodbye and walk out of the room, and thing lighting dims. What a strange feeling.

Of course, it was pouring outside, which meant the freeway would suck. And it did. I believe it took us about one hour to get to hospital. Good thing I wasn’t trying to keep the baby from popping out. Sheesh. Gotta love Seattle.

Gen and I were chilling in room four, waiting for a resident to get there and do her test-taking magic. The nurse put the monitor on the baby and one for me and they really felt weird. All those Baby Story episodes and here I was experiencing some of it myself.

My head was still pounding and the Aleve I’d grabbed on the way out the door was still in my pocket. Gen’s 2 ½ year old kneeled on a chair against the sink, playing with running water, definitely in need of a nap. I just wanted to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t get comfortable no matter how I was positioned. Either my lower back hurt, or it was my hip, and so on.

Finally, the resident arrived and all the necessary tests were done, including a slide for the microscope. Nothing much showed on the test strip that’s supposed to change colors, and same with the slide. A part of me wanted the tests to be positive for amniotic fluid because I wanted this to end now. The other part knew I should be happy because if I’d had to go up to Labor & Delivery, my little girl wouldn’t be as healthy as possible.

Frustrated, and with a call to my doc for approval to send me home, I sat up to get dressed. Out oozed some of the mysterious substance. Of course, my body had performance anxiety while the nurses were around but noooo, wait until their gone and poof, no issues. Argh!

I got dressed, went to the bathroom. As we were rounding up everything and the kid, I mentioned to the nurse that it was still leaking and showed her. She whips out the strip test and it turns bright blue. No sky-blue shit, but dark no-mistaking-this-color blue. So another slide is made and we end up waiting around for someone to view it. Nothing. No signs of amniotic fluid, and again we’re on our way out the door after a call to my doc.

I am beyond frustrated today. It’d be different if they could tell me what the hell is happening, but they can’t. So I wear these stupid, retarded panty liners or else I look like I’ve peed my damn pants. I’m still leaking periodically, though the amount hasn’t changed. Fun fun. If this doesn’t stop or at least lessen by Monday morning I’m calling the doc. Unexplained things happening to my body piss me off.

The morning news is on and I am just now getting ready to go to bed. Lovely.

Only five more weeks to go until the due date! Unfortunately that means only five more weeks to get this sleeping schedule back on track just to have it spin into a whirlwind. Oh yes, I’m counting. 35 days.

Just a quickie (heh, those are always fun) to say THANK YOU to Lisa for the Boppy and Onesies and to Jess for the John Lennon Baby Book. I love em, guys. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

The Ramblings part of my site (my poetry) has finally been converted over to the new look. Sheesh, to think I put it off and it only took a few minutes to take care of. I’m getting lazy. Remaining parts of this site are still in the works…hopefully it’ll be done by the time the little one shows up.

Oh my, Public Access is a fucking riot! If I could only describe these nutcases…

I’m fine, I’m fine, no early baby, but thanks everybody, for checking in on me.

I’m sick. Still. This stuff won’t go away and I’ll be calling a doctor Monday if this cough doesn’t leave me alone. It’s nice to know the little one inside isn’t affected by my illness at all (as long as I don’t get a fever, which I haven’t, thank lordy), but I wish my immune system wasn’t shot to shit.

I was managing throughout the week, since John and I had finally made it into the location of our gym that has a pool and hot tub. I’d been going in twice a day, enjoying feeling “non-pregnant” in the water (it’s when I get out and she feels twice her weight that kills). Since the hot tub is only at 104 F I’ve been abusing it to no end, letting those jets do their thing, and so my back hadn’t even been hurting. No pelvic pains, and I was even going to bed without any aches…until last night. I swear, she’s gained five pounds in two days, or at least that’s what it FEELS like.

Okay, enough griping. Only 40 days until the due date. Even if I were to forget, John wouldn’t. I believe it’s Saturday, but only because my soaps aren’t on and I’m watching hockey this early in the day. Otherwise, it’s “sun goes up, sun comes down” and I have no clue what day it is. So, because it’s Saturday (and because I can’t think of anything else to do), I’m going back to bed.

John and I drove to Issaquah, over fifty miles round trip, for a dozen donuts tonight. Of course, they were Krispy Kreme donuts that melted in our mouths so it didn’t really matter how far we drove. The funny thing about all this is the commercial that sparked our trip.

We were watching the Ontario vs Colorado hockey game on the Canadian feed (NHL Center Ice TV package rocks), nothing out of the ordinary. Then a Tim Horton’s commercial came on and my mouth started watering. All I could think about was the new Krispy Kreme store that had opened up recently and how nummy they sounded. If I’d been dreaming I would’ve woken up with have the pillowcase covered in drool, they sounded that good.

Not even a minute later and John said “You know what sounds good? Some Krispy Kreme donuts.” I looked at John, somewhat surprised, but not really, since we generally are on the same freaky wavelength. I thought he was kidding. Nope. Ten minutes later (after searching for their address and directions to uppityville), and after a call to Gen for any donut requests, we were on our way.

Now, we’re heading out the door to go for a walk and then to the gym. Time to work off the glaze and sparkles. What bothers me about this whole thing is how receptive I was to advertising. I hate that. But at least I’m aware of it.

I don’t know how in the hell some people manage to put cribs and whole nurseries together during pregnancy. John and I were about ready to kill each other and we were just putting up five shelves. Yes, shelves. And we had a drill, too!

So the two large shelves were going up in the bedroom (for baby stuff), and the three smaller ones in the entrance hallway (for framed pictures). The first one went in the bedroom, at the perfect height for me to sit in the rocking chair and be able to reach the shelf. That installation went fairly well a few days ago, other than the fact we didn’t discover we were trying to put an anchor into a
stud until we’d drilled an extra hole. We finally notice the electrical outlet down below and realized why the darn thing wouldn’t budge, and eventually had the shelf up.

Last night, around 10:30, we set up the three in the hallway. Now, I really don’t
think the issues would’ve really happened if we had a real level. Not the miscellaneous tool we would roll back and forth (last night’s invention), but an honest to goodness tool thingamabobber you buy in a store (people think I’m joking when I ask for one for Christmas…I’m NOT kidding here).

Anyhow, by the time we made it to the bedroom to put up that last shelf I was in tears. And then we found another stud. After the other two anchors were in just perfect, so we couldn’t just change position of the shelf very well. And then the damn shelf slipped from my grip sending a corner right into my forehead.

All shelves up, I was laying in bed, exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the past 30 minutes. Then all I could think was “Damn, I hope nobody called the police on us for noise disturbance” as I felt the bruise on my forehead. Sure wouldn’t look too good with me answering the door. “Um, no, officer, everything is fine, we were just putting up some shelves on the walls and one fell and hit me.” Yeah, bet that’d go over nicely.

Of course, there’s always the unspoken all-purpose reason for anything these days “She’s pregnant.” John uses that one when he picks up the phone I’ve thrown across the room during any customer service call.