Vagabond Mother

life choices selfsplained

2016-02-11T11:06:00.001-08:00

In the fall of 2014, after stalking properties throughout northern Utah, we edged our way somehow into a 1908 bungalow in Heber City. Since then, I've been completely calm and boring and only changed out two cars, three dogs, and brought home a 1970 airstream.

The boys attend a charter school across the valley: hiking, skiing, and bum-sledding down dirt and snow hills all year long. Opal has turned into a frightful dictator, ruling my days and nights. Andrew runs up and down the Wasatch Front, building and maintaining his business.

I always feel compelled to make the update, to just make it clear that we have gotten older as time has gone on. What a weird thing, time and age. Anyways, here is the house:

She's sort of returning to the earth from which she came but aren't we all?

Andrew came home from work last night feeling a little insecure about some issues. It reminded me that part of being human is having insecurity at times. And that's okay. It is okay to feel like a lame-o. I often forget that and spend days wondering if it is okay to feel lame. It is okay. Totally okay. I'm trying to feel things, feel them good and well, and then move on. Accept the natural cycles of life, friendships, and emotions. And of dog ownership.

Nora was a labradoodle. We had her for about 2 years and she ate a lot of things and could jump like a gazelle. She was a huge mistake but I could never re-home her until I brought home two basset hound sisters. Then I re-homed Nora because 4 dogs is just embarrassing. Then I re-homed the sisters because I was working on being responsible and balanced. From this experience I learned that even if something is adorable and makes your soul sing, it doesn't mean you should drive to Vernal and bring it home.

Another thing we did when we moved to Heber was switch out our city cars for 4WD cars. I'll be honest here: I needed 4WD in our old Lehi neighborhood more than Heber. Shhhhh. But the world is bigger with higher clearance and we've had so much fun exploring new territory. Since Andrew now had a truck, I decided we should get a trailer. Enter a 1970 airstream named Lloyd.

We made it out on one 2-night camping trip and one 4-night trip to Yellowstone. It is like a cabin on wheels. The memories are hysterical and I know I shouldn't materialistically apply emotion but the old house and old trailer are huge to me. The other advantage is both will appreciate in value with time & tlc.

This upcoming year will be big for us. We will both finish our fake/real MBA's. We will continue on with our new relationship with stability. Opal starts preschool. We are also debating becoming a foster family. I am not sure it is right for us because I am well aware that humans are not dogs (see my dog skills above). I am however confidant that we could do it if that is what we choose.

I've also learned lately that a lot of life is maintenance. Taking care of everyone, taking care of things, and taking care of yourself. I am working to be comfortable with that, with "leading a laundry folding life." Whether it entails rejoining the workforce or keeping my kids lice-free, I want to be okay with the everyday. I also want to blog again, so I did. So there.

I also have developed a huge Disneyland weakness over the last year. It is flaming case of SAHM-ness and I don't want to talk about it.

our ten year anniversary letter and also, vows

2013-07-21T11:21:00.002-07:00

Andrew,

First, let's go over the past ten years so you remember what we've done together. I am sure you've forgotten because everything has been wonderful and nothing bad/hard/weird/impossible/scary happened, ever.

The numbers:

15 Including family, hotel rooms and move-back-in-agains, we have moved 15 times.

1. Provo Condo (upstairs) Provo, UT

2. Purple Room (Jon's House) Corona, CA

3. The Ashton (apartment) Corona, CA

4. 38 Madison Ave (Debbie's apartment) New York, NY

5. Wyview Provo, UT

6. Provo Condo (downstairs) Provo, UT

7. Provo Condo (upstairs) Provo, UT

8. David's house Gilbert, AZ

9. Val Vista Gardens (apartment) Mesa, AZ

10. Ben's apartment Rancho Cucamonga, CA

11. My parent's home Mesa, AZ

11. The Royal St. Kitts, West Indies, Room 1 by the laundry room

12. The Royal St. Kitts, West Indies, Room 2 on the generator

13. The Crack Houses, St. Kitts, West Indies

14. Mapleton Apartment, Menifee California

15. Rental home, Lehi, UT

I don't want to offend you or be weird, but I would like to tone down the addresses for the next decade. However, you have been kind and dear to me at every move, every change. No matter where we were or what we were doing, you were by my side each night and I was never away from home with you there.

Of course with all this moving, it means we lived in 4 states and 2 countries. No wonder I thought we should just give up and live in a trailer. And hey, maybe one day we will. But enough with this geography, there is more to us than our "born to running." Although the world is big and I want to see so much more of it with you by my side.

4 schools for you!

1. Riverside Community College

2. Brigham Young University

3. University of Medical and Health Sciences

4. Davenport University

2 schools for me!

1. Brigham Young University

2. Davenport University

15 Jobs for you!

1. Tropical Smoothie Cafe

2. The UPS Store

3. Tropical Smoothie Cafe

4. Ben's Lacky, Cabinets

5. Construction Guy for real company

6. Ben's Lacky

7. Columbia University Business School

8. Custodian, Museum of Art

9. Provo High School

10. Mountain View Family Dental (Office Manager)

11. Unpaid Internship R&R Auto

12. Med Student

13. Slightly Paid internship R&R Auto

14. Car Salesman Lake GMC BUICK

15. BOMA

7 jobs for me!

1. BYU Writing Center

2. Roadracing World Magazine

3. Substitute teacher

4. Temp Worker, NYC

5. Ruby's Nanny

6. Provo Temple

7. Photography business for a spell

Along with all this change, we've managed to keep educating ourselves and having babies, but not much else. Also, educating ourselves and having babies TAKES A LOT of work. In case you've forgotten, you've attended 4 schools since 2003. You are still in school(but won't be forever) and you have always impressed me with your never-giving-up-ness. We've landed where you are a businessman, working within a small business that you have a large stake in. It never seemed like what we thought for our future, but it feels like where we need to be. We know what it means to be laid off, we know what it means to reach that dead end again and again. But where we are now, there is more hope than ever and we recognize that feeling, we don't take it for granted. I love you for that. Thank you. Thank you for being proficient and smart and able.

3 babies

1. Raymond Brady Ranes, October 5, 2005

2. Henry Glen Ranes, November 17, 2007

3. Opal Eleanor Ranes, October 3, 2012

Now I don't have to tell you that the best part of our lives together is our children. Each one has brightened our lives for the better. Each one meant a pregnancy wherein our resolve and our strength was tested more than any job, class, or move ever did. The worst days brought us the best days. Thank you for being there with me and for me through the struggle. Those days showed me what we are made of, and we are made of a love that transcends image, trial, pettiness, and selfishness. We are made of a love that would do anything for each other, and we already have, again and again.

1 transition of faith

When you married me, my Mormon faith was a big part of me, and as the years went on, that changed. Then, at last, there was the decision that I was done with Mormonism in April 2013. Through all of this, you have shown me support. This support is different than the support you've give me through health problems or harder days, this support should me your love transcended our families, our traditions, our social and cultural place in the world. And sweet Andrew, this to me means more than any religious ceremony or civil ceremony ever could. This means so much to me, this has given me the greatest security in our marriage. It displays that you respect me for my mind, my thoughts, my journey, my struggle. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

3652.42 days in our ten years of marriage

This means what it means. All those days of brushing teeth and meals and laundry and grocery shopping and dishes. All those days. They are what we are really made of, we are made of running the show of our family, our lives. I know we have regrets and wishes and the past did not play out perfectly. But I think we know now, more than ever, that these ARE THE DAYS. The days we we get spend together, the days we get to live before it all goes quiet.

THE PROMISE(S) I MAKE TO YOU:

So I did a little digging, to find out what was actually said on our wedding day, when we were both at a place to view our love through the lens of Mormonism. On that day, I was put into a situation I had never viewed or experienced before and do you know what I remember? Beyond all strangeness, the heat, the nerves, I remember your face. You were smiling and crying and your face was pure love. Since we didn't get to write or narrate or control that part of day, I look back to that face, that face that transcended it all. You love me. I know I ask you because I love to hear it, but I knew that day and I know now that you love me. So here is the original of what was done that day, I am forever bothered that I promised my life to you while looking at a stranger, but I am never bothered that I promised my life to you. You don't have to read this, but it is interesting and a part of our past. I think I should be allowed to consider and analyze the text of our wedding and I hope you feel the same.

Officiator: Brother ______, [naming groom] and Sister ______, [naming bride] please join hands in the Patriarchal Grip or Sure Sign of the Nail.

Marriage Couple: Joins hands in the "Patriarchal Grip, or Sure Sign of the Nail." This token is given by clasping the right hands, interlocking the little fingers and placing the tip of the forefinger upon the center of the wrist. No clothing should interfere with the contact of the forefinger upon the wrist.

Officiator: Brother ______, do you take Sister ______ by the right hand and receive her unto yourself to be your lawful and wedded wife for time and all eternity, with a covenant and promise that you will observe and keep all the laws, rites, and ordinances pertaining to this Holy Order of Matrimony in the New and Everlasting Covenant, and this you do in the presence of God, angels, and these witnesses of your own free will and choice?

Groom: Yes.

Officiator: Sister ______ do you take brother ______ by the right hand and give yourself to him to be his lawful and wedded wife, and for him to be your lawful and wedded husband, for time and all eternity, with a covenant and promise that you will observe and keep all the laws, rites and ordinances pertaining to this Holy Order of Matrimony in the New and Everlasting Covenant, and this you do in the presence of God, angels, and these witnesses of your own free will and choice?

Bride: Yes.

Officiator: By virtue of the Holy Priesthood and the authority vested in me, I pronounce you ______, and ______, legally and lawfully husband and wife for time and all eternity, and I seal upon you the blessings of the holy resurrection with power to come forth in the morning of the first resurrection clothed in glory, immortality and eternal lives, and I seal upon you the blessings of kingdoms, thrones, principalities, powers, dominions and exaltations, with all the blessings of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and say unto you: be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth that you may have joy and rejoicing in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. All these blessings, together with all the blessings appertaining unto the New and Everlasting Covenant, I seal upon you by virtue of the Holy Priesthood, through your faithfulness, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, Amen."

So, there is was, pretty exciting stuff full of you receiving, me giving, and angels and glory and dominions. What I have found though, with our marriage, is you are the one giving all the time, giving it to me good. And that while all that is nice, this is different. This comes from me, no one and nothing else.

I will not stop fighting with you. I promise to fight until we reach a new understanding. I promise to change, adapt, and fight with you until I die.

I will not grow distant from you. And if I feel like I am, I promise to tell you. I will never do something hurtful or crazy to you. I promise to never f-up our lives and our relationship.

I will take care of you. When you are tired or sick or in trouble, I will take care of you.

I will forgive you. It just happens. We get hurt. You get hurt, I get hurt. That's how it is. But I promise to forgive you. It may take a minute or two but I will always come back around.

I will love you. I will show you my love. I will tell you and hold you and love you. Always.

I will help you live your dreams and our dreams. I will be healthy, strong, loving, and smart. I won't give up. I will be your greatest dream and your occasional nightmare.

I will hold on. I know we aren't in a perfect place right now, that things always could be better, but what I love is that we still hold on through the imperfections and never wait on being happy, on being truly together. I promise to hold on.

I will be compulsive. I will be obsessed about taking care of things with you. I will be your best OCD friend ever. You will love it.

I will be neurotic, needy, passionate, and stir crazy. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be me. I am glad you like me.

I will be your friend, your support, your lover in the night, your everything. I will be by your side for all these days we live. I hope our future is as good as our past, and I hope our present is always stable, loving, and true.

Thank you for taking my hand and never letting go. I needed you then, I need you now, and I will always need you. You are my life and I love you.

we all shine on

2013-07-17T13:23:00.003-07:00

Here we are, July 2013. This is the past year on our family room wall. WHAT A YEAR.

We have been in Utah for "over a year" now with no leaving in site. We are "settled." Andrew goes to work and school and likes what he does and I take care of the brood. Three is a handful but I am so glad and never regret my beautiful brown-eyed Opal.

This past year has been amazing. Sure, a lot of health problems, whatever. I ended up with two surgeries and lots of pain and struggle but while that went on, life went on. The boys grew and loved school. Henry went to preschool at the local elementary 4 days a week and adored it all. Raymond was in first grade and ruled the school playground with his imagination and passion and the occasional trip to the principal's office. Hey, what can you do?

Andrew is the love of my life. I cannot believe our ten year is almost coming up- BUT then I look at the numbers, and OH MY GOSH, well, we could have spread that out over more decades and still have been plenty entertained. And now that we have "landed" in suburbia, what with our kids and minivan and HOUSE(rental, don't pee yourself), you might drive by and go, "BORING." It isn't boring at all. It is a hell of a lot of work running the show. The job, the yard, the dog, the laundry, the cleaning, the loving, the homework, the MBA classes, the sports games, the drop-offs and pick-ups, the bottles, the baby, the naps, the fighting, the tears, the NEEDS. Sure, first world problems- I know it is. I don't begrudge life really ever, anymore. I enjoy it, I live it, and I am worn out most of the time. I know I really wanted some stability and continuity and now that it is here, SIGH. Thank heavens.

I stopped writing a lot through the physical pain of the past year. Facebook and Instagram moved in on blogs and the world just writes quips all day to each other now. We don't sit down and compose picture essays on the trip to the park like we used to. It is very sad. I try to keep up internet barriers, just as I would never tell my in-laws and my parents and my girlfriends and strangers the same things, well, I REALLY DON'T now. That only took several years to understand. HAHA.

I've had a severe case of the nostalgics lately, and it isn't that I want to go back in time, but it is that I want to return to writing the now. There are moments that came and went and because I wrote them down, I can spend late nights making myself laugh. I'd like to do that the rest of my life, the writing and the laughing. And I'd like to leave something that says, "I was here, we were here, we loved it. Enjoy your turn."

So along with the children, which takes up most of my every moment, I have made new friends here in Utah. California was lonely as hell so when I got to Utah, I nervously braved it to some book clubs and soon, strangers became friends. I go to water aerobics and play dates and all sorts of things now and it feels OH SO GOOD to have community. Utah is an island of its own and I have had to brave understanding and figuring out how it is to be a post Mormon here. Mostly, though, it isn't a thing and I have actually found so many more friends that I enjoy. I was never one to make a BFF in a Mormon ward, let's not kid ourselves. It can be a little much- having liberal, feminist, dramatic, passionate friends, but I take breaks here and there. The material from this isolated, weird as hell, demographic is GOLD.

I am so relieved to be beyond and settled where I am with religion. I cannot believe how much anxiety the Mormon church caused in my life. I love the freedom I now have in parenting, my own thoughts, my ability to love, and in TIME. Life is so short, we are so busy, I am so glad I am not helping to run a religion I do not believe in ON TOP of all this. I believe so much in gender equality, gay rights, and humanist ideals that I just can hardly bare the main tenets of the Mormon church. I've always thought from a very young age that if I wasn't born a Mormon, religion would have never appealed to me. I hope my children understand that, I hope they know my love transcends whatever they believe, or do not believe, as they grow into adulthood.

Of course, with our families, the church issue is never over and never will be. My children will become more conscious of this as they age and it is really complicated. But as I become more aware and more able to handle the problems that arise, it gets easier. It is really hard to stand up for myself and own that it is okay that I believe what I believe. I have gotten extreme criticisms and hatred for it and it has broken me at times.

Broken me, but I also know that this change, this BATTLE, is important and it isn't for nothing. I know how important it is to find your own way in this world, to form your own opinions, and to never blindly trust. And now more than ever, I truly feel love, beauty, and truth. I feel it and I live it. At the same time, I can process reality and superstition and harsh truths. I know I will continue to evolve and learn and I am not afraid.

Andrew and I are taking a trip to Seattle in a week and a half for our ten year anniversary. It will be a road trip with all the kids and we will be tired and cranky and entertained and busy. It is what life is at this point. I am going to work on my vows for him, I am going to write them at this stage, better late than never. I am going to light a candle, play a playlist, and cry out my soul to him. I hope he likes that. :)

Oh Opal, I heart you.

I am not very proficient at three, but we do our best and call it a success.

My heart can't even handle the love I have for the brothers. They are brilliant and the best of friends, still, always.

Opal makes it to October!

2012-10-19T10:00:00.000-07:00

I had my baby girl on a Wednesday night at 6:06 pm on October 3, 2012. The day before (after a weekend of borderline high blood pressure and increasing gallbladder pain) at my doctor's appointment my doctor decided to induce labor the next morning. Andrew was there with me, as I had needed help doing the day to day things with my health being so wonky, and we left the appointment with one evening to get ready for our baby.

We picked up Raymond and Henry from school and let them go to their book fair to pick out a book each. Then we went to Target to pick up a few odds and ends, including jeans for Raymond because the year's first cold front was on its way.

When we got home, I believe Andrew had MBA homework or something, because I remember doing a lot of cleaning and packing on my own. There was a feeling of stress and excitement- pretty much like Christmas Eve, and I wore myself out very well. That night I could hardly sleep and was up by 6:00 am to prepare for the call to come down to the hospital. The hospital did not call until 9:00 am or so, and told us to be there by 10:30 am. I spent the morning with my mom and the boys before they went to school.

Finally, we left for the hospital and I remember feeling on edge, very nervous for the unknown. Once at the hospital, things happened so fast. I had my water broken almost immediately, iv's placed, and an internal monitor placed on the baby's head. All of this caused a lot of pain and I felt trapped and scared. Then, the epidural was placed and I cold relax a little before the labor got intense. Around 4:30 pm, the pressure was very intense until the birth happened. During the last part of the labor, I asked for an oxygen mask and that seemed to help me fight the nausea and pain. I kept the mask on through the birth.

The birth was simple, only a couple of pushes and out came a tiny baby girl, little Opal. Her umbilical cord even looked small to me. She screamed and cried and was placed on my chest. They gave me a lot of time with her, only taking her away momentarily to weigh and measure her. She was 20 inches long and weighed 7'11 pounds. We spent the next two hours holding her and nursing, it was a very special two hours between Opal, me, and Andrew.

When we moved down to the mother and baby floor, we ran into my mom and Raymond and Henry in the hallway. The brothers were in their pajamas and very excited to see their new sister. We got to my room and they all held her for the first time. Then, it was time for Opal to go to the nursery for her first bath. Andrew took her and the boys and Grandma watched from the nursery window.

The next couple of days were full of bonding with little Opal and visitors. Grandpa Jensen came the next day to meet her, as well as Aunt Lynette. My mom and Andrew drove back and forth from the hospital, helping me and taking care of Raymond and Henry.

On Friday, it was October 5, 2012, Raymond's 7th birthday. Opal and I were finally released at about 5:30 pm that afternoon, and all five of us went home from the hospital together. Once home, Grandma had a birthday party ready for Raymond with lots of family and company.

The following days have gone by so fast. I never had much milk come in and "gave up" on day 8 and switched Opal to formula only. My gallbladder pain has remained and I will be going in for surgery at the end of the month. Opal is a beautiful baby and we joke that she is "choosy" because she is a little more demanding than her brothers as babies.

We are so happy to have her in our family, especially after such a crazy year. It feels strange to be a bit more "back to normal" after feeling sick for so long. I hope my surgery goes well and that I can be the mom that all three of these sweet kids deserve. They are my world, and my world just got bigger, brighter, and girly-er. I love you, Opal Eleanor Ranes. :)

dear opal

2012-10-01T15:01:00.000-07:00

Dear Opal,

One day, a long time ago, I let my guard down and decided on you, well, you as a possibility. I was still riding high on the fact that I was BACK IN AMERICA after your father’s stint in a Caribbean medical school. You’ll probably hear a lot about our stints, our lives “Pre-Opal.”

Anyways, this particular stint took place at Planned Parenthood. I felt sheepish, but I went through with it. I went in, said I was too poor for another child, but that I wanted one anyways. And you know, they said, “Okay, no problem, good luck,” and soon, my uterus was back in service for one last baby hurrah.

It was a hard decision, and even though it was made, I went through many months of wanting to change my mind. Until one day, February 10, 2012. On that day, I cut off a foot of my hair and wanted to bleach the remaining hair bright white to forget that I was overweight, tired, and lonely. But before I did, I took a leftover, cheap, dollar pregnancy test. And there you were. Faint. Tiny. And real.

Just as I knew the story would go, the next couple of months were hell. A nanny came to take care of your brothers, and I shriveled and sunk into a deep, physical trap called Hyperemesis Gravidarum. I don’t know why it happens. I don’t know why I suck at growing people. I don’t know why, but it happens, and it hurts. I thought of you, just you, and little else those days. I held onto the idea of you so that I could make it until the next ER trip, the next day, the next hour.

And then, like it did with your brothers, the hell lifted, the storm ended, and there I was, still alive. I was weak but every experience in the real world was so exciting. I could drink water, cup after cup. I could eat. Each day brought slow progress, and even though I had to ride the handicapped carts at the store, I felt proud.

Now before you think I am acting a martyr, remember your dad and your brothers, and all they did to help bring me through. It was a team effort, Opal, and it was done in love. Love for you.

And as we always learn, it really does show that we will do anything for you, always. We will annoy, hurt, and bother your whole life. But we will also love, sacrifice, and give you as much of the world that we can. You are worth it now, and you will always be worth it.

Soon after the Hyperemesis faded, we wanted to know if you were a boy or a girl. So we went to find out. And you were small then, only about four inches, head to bottom, but the technician saw what we didn’t, you were a girl. A GIRL?! We didn’t know we grew those. We were so happy.

Your brother Henry sobbed, he had decided he wanted you to be a boy a few days before that, much in the way he decides he wants a cheese sandwich, and nothing else will work. But after twenty minutes of tears, he came around, and soon, we were all in love, again, with YOU. Girl YOU.

I worry about you being a girl, mostly because I’ve been a girl, and I know there are some rough moments ahead. I hope you don’t get Hyperemesis, I hope you don’t get teased; I hope you will be stronger than the millions of things that can and will hurt you.

At the same time, being a girl, a lady, a woman, is awesome. I hope you find in yourself strength, determination, artistry, and love. I want to be there for you in all the ways you need me. When I think of you, I think of you all at once as a baby, a girl, a teenager, and a woman. And you are brilliant, smart, kind, and beautiful at every stage, every moment.

You are making us a family of five-five plus one mutt. You are hanging out in me, waiting for your birthday, your life, to begin. Getting you here has not been easy, but it has been an adventure and completely worth it. I hope you always know how much we love you and how much we have always loved you, even when you were just an idea. You were one of the best ideas of my life, and never forget that no matter how old, crazy, and obnoxious I become over the years, that I love you. No matter your choices, no matter your success, and no matter your mistakes, I love you.

I look forward to meeting you face to face and hope your last gestational days are comfortable and relaxing. You are about to face a mad, beautiful world and I hope you are ready. I also hope you like your name.

Love,

Your MOM

pregnancy-induced paranoia

2012-08-26T15:37:00.000-07:00

Something about being in this stage of pregnancy sparks both nesting and protectiveness in me. The last thing I want is a bunch of open information online, so the other week, I just shut the blog down completely. And it worked. I felt better immediately.

The online world is changing too, as we find to ways to express and moderate our "exposures." On facebook, I have several private groups with different friends from different life stages, within which I can be "me," whoever "she" is in that particular group. And then I keep my main page as benign as possible. I just don't care to have much out there anymore that others can misinterpret, misunderstand, or you know, understand completely but can't get over the fact that I annoy them.

Then there is my private instagram feed, with just enough "followers" that I feel neither threatened or limited by it. It has taken over my point-and-shoot camera, and simple enough that I have kept up recording bits of our lives during this mad year. Recording, you know, from the couch, the car window.

As for the blog, it is my reference point on so much of my life over the last six years. I love it. Sometimes it is painful looking back, and sometimes, it is amazing. So there's a word for that- bittersweet. I love the story, I love the way our lives have gone, are going, but at times I just want to go back in time and BE THAT FRIEND to myself- to let the old past self know she is doing fine, she is doing well, she is doing enough, and to just keep going. Just keep going.

The blog, while beloved, is an annoying mistress too. She'll get me in a mess now and then, when I've said too much or said it not right and then hell rains down. So it doesn't take much to say, "Hey, maybe I should live without. . . simplify and privatize and step away." But, like a sexy mistress always does, sometimes you find yourself with her on a long Sunday afternoon, and you remember, "Oh. I kind of like her, she kind of feels good." Is it getting hot in here?

So with this love/hate blog relationship, with hearing horror stories about what can happen when too much is put online, and of course, with my raging baby hormones, I find it so easy to take a step back.

I don't know if I'll take a step forward again, but whatever the case, I really love having this shady record of our world, public or private.

lazy lazy summer

2012-07-06T15:36:00.003-07:00

There is so much to do in Utah during the summer time, I am always wishing I had more energy. Everyday I look at our baby hiking backpack in the garage and think, "Next summer." For now, my summer is enjoyed from the car and from a folding chair, and that's okay.

The first Saturday we were here, Grandpa had the boys fishing. No time wasted!

It was great fishing at a trout farm. I didn't have to touch a fish or a worm.

One advantage to Utah is being close to our cousin Oscar. The boys are very sweet to him for the most part, and I hope it carries over to their baby sister.

Throwing rocks into water. Really, the biggest advantage to Utah.

We had a fun Forth of July, starting with the Provo parade.

Henry was the most enthusiastic parade watcher of our family.

It was super warm.

Floats!

Later that day, after both mom and dad had napped and both of the boys had refused to, we set out to watch fireworks near our neighborhood. It was a good half hour show, and sound-sensitive Henry handled it like a champion!

On July 5th, we woke up to rain! It was a nice, all day drizzle that sort of helped the state to stop burning down. The brothers put on their rain boots and headed out to find puddles.

Nature Henry loves some good weather.

That evening, we went for a drive around our neighborhood to watch the sunset.

It was in the 60's, and a perfect night. Raymond serenaded the whole experience by whistling "The Yellow Submarine" non-stop. Thanks Raymond!

june bugging

2012-06-25T12:05:00.002-07:00

What a crazy month June has been. In a lot of ways, it has been a "boot camp" for me, a sort of physical therapy for me to recover from the HG and regain my strength back. You know, to be a mother/human again.

We started the month off by seeing the baby girl at her anatomy scan. She passed with flying colors and was still a girl. Recently, we decided she was going to be named Opal. We love our Opal!

Following this, Henry finished his t-ball season. What a season! Of course, his season really ended the day he broke his leg. He loved receiving his trophy, which made everything worth it. His opinion on t-ball? In his own words:

"So boring."
"This is taking forever."
"This is taking too long."

I'm a little sad about that, because I always liked the boring-ness of t-ball and softball. But I will concede that a sport must be a little boring when half the players play with dirt instead of field the ball.

His team was full of really great boys and parents. They sent him a sweet card about his broken leg. Henry was very excited but disappointed it didn't play a song. The boys expect greeting cards to play music now, thanks to Grandma and Grandpa Jensen.

Then, Raymond finished his first year of school. What a year! He developed childhood asthma and also re-broke his arm mid-year. This made Raymond top of his class! Top of the worst attendance, that is. We hope for a better run in first grade! He loved his teacher and his classmates and made leaps and bounds when it came to reading and writing. At his kindergarten graduation, I felt like I had been in a coma since Valentine's Day, and I guess I kind of had. The whole thing made me very emotional. Opal must have sensed that her older brother was growing up and the hormones went flying out of control.

Raymond also made sure to continue growing exponentially to make sure none of his classmates could even kind-of catch up. The great challenge of raising Raymond is keeping him in clothes that fit. It is a hard race to win.

Following all these big achievements for the children, it was time to close down shop in California and go back to where we started from, Utah County.

After a lot of work and help, we had our entire apartment and garage stuffed into a giant yellow truck. Andrew drove the truck and I drove the car. Seeing as I hadn't been able to sit in a car more than an hour since the HG, let alone drive across the west, we spent the night in St. George to split up the drive. I was really proud of myself for making the trip, even though I did have to depend quite a lot on Zofran. My doctor was concerned about my gallbladder stalling out in the middle of the trip, so she printed my medical records and had me drive with them, just in case.

Once in Utah, we felt so tired and overwhelmed by all the change that everything just. felt. wrong. But after a few nights of normal sleep and eventually finding our rental home, enthusiasm creeped back into life.

It is also hard to feel frustrated about life when you get to share your days with guys like these. They have been such troopers through all our adventures and change. They are my days, my life, and at night, I fall asleep thinking about how funny, sweet, and amazing they are. And that is coming from someone who doesn't really like kids, so it means a lot.

Now we are settling in, Raymond is registered for school next year and we are busy finding doctors and finding our place in this new area. I am the slowest mover-inner ever, but have realized I don't have to be in a rush. I just have to have to get Henry's three-year-old dried puke stains cleaned off of Opal's crib before she gets here in October. It is the least I can do.

We also have embraced summer time. Henry's cast came off last week! His leg is incredibly weak and he is learning to walk again, but we are able to swim, play in the sprinkler, and take baths! He still has to be very cautious- no playgrounds yet. Overall though, it is so great to not have a cast in the family. I hope we get a long/permanent sabbatical from broken bones. But just as I've learned with most everything in life over the last few years, nothing is certain.

There may not be a picture hung on the wall in our house or a book on a shelf, but we started our summer anyways. . .

We are looking forward to this new stage in Utah. We don't know why roads lead to where they go, but we are willing to keep on keeping on. I found new faith in my ability to adjust and change. My world may end and end again, but strangely, I have found that even that is okay. I have also found that I can handle egg whites and tomatoes, totally opening my world up to a few more gallbladder friendly meals. See, there's always hope.

a bit broken

2012-05-17T12:51:00.000-07:00

A week ago, Henry fractured his tibia.

Henry's fractured tibia.

When Andrew called from the hospital, it made me feel ill and dizzy, so I sat down and cried. My tears for broken bones are standard fare now, but they are still real.

So with that, my one active, healthy, non-allergic, non-asthmatic boy was immobilized. He has to be carried everywhere and cannot put weight on his leg at all. The fracture went to his growth plate, so we are hoping that won't become an issue.

A couple of days after the break, Andrew got our June move-out date for our apartment. It is old news for us now, that the plan A of returning to medical school didn't happen, and now preparing for plan B. Plan B involves moving to Utah next month for Andrew to begin training to be a dental broker/consultant within my father's business. He is also now planning to complete his MBA he began in med school and also get his realtor's license. We are a mixture of excitement, stress, and sadness.

Meanwhile, with the broken leg, Andrew had to resign at the dealership and is spending our last month in California at home with his neeeeeeeeeeeedy family. With the pregnancy, I can't haul Henry everywhere and I'll be honest, I'm still a bit of a mess myself.

I am weak and I still struggle with normal chores and errands. I am now very used to (very sick of) the new gall bladder diet. I have actually maintained my weight for a couple of weeks now, which means I am getting my fair share of apples, carrots, cucumbers, grilled chicken, oatmeal, and brown rice. The baby has recently pushed out my chubby stomach and I feel bigger everyday.

I also feel like we are in a low point right now and I can't deny that the last year/four years has been a bit of a rough and tumble. But as always, I remain hopeful. And grateful. I love the adventures and I love my family. We are hoping that this next change/move leads to a different set of circumstance, one where we can raise our family with a bit more stability and even settle down for the long term.

Of course, I also dream of a world where my sons stop breaking their bones and I stop being pregnant.

15 weeks, 0 days: Gendered.

2012-04-29T12:32:00.000-07:00

The brothers' new wheels. Christmas finally got put together. They have a derby everyday when Ray gets home from kindergarten and before the neighborhood kids get home. Neighborhood kids!

Well, life is getting back to a new normal. Health wise I am doing a lot more, but I still hate shopping for groceries or shopping in general. I can walk, but standing still really does me in.

I finally managed a trip to the DMV this week, so I am licensed again and legal to drive, something I haven't needed to do lately anyways. I had to take a written test and I made a DMV employee make a man move from one of the only sitting-desks. I felt needy and slightly embarrassed. Not new feelings, really. Ranks right up there with riding the scooter carts at Target.

This past week, I was less careful with my diet and ended up with a gallbladder attack Friday night. It was awful. It lasted about three hours. I felt super gross all day Saturday. I woke up today feeling more "normal" with just the tender pain in my side. My doctor was so nonchalant about my gallbladder at my appointment last week that I think I nonchalant-ed myself right into an attack. I have found this pregnancy that the ER doctors have been so much more aware than the OBGYN practice I go to.

The OBGYN visits are like reading half-truth internet articles. For instance, at almost fourteen weeks, during an ultrasound, the doctor told me my baby was only "this big" at this point, and she used her fingers to display about 3/4 of an inch. I'm kind of partial to how big my baby is, and I knew it had at least two inches on that 3/4 of an inch.

I was actually SO annoyed by that visit, that right when we left, I called an elective ultrasound office to make an appointment. I told Andrew that I needed some time with the baby with someone who knew how big it was. I was kind of a wreck.

The next day, Andrew and I went alone to see the baby. The baby was adorable, opening and closing its mouth and dancing around. The gender remained a secret with its umbilical cord tucked between its legs. It was still a nice visit. They scheduled me to come back almost a week later.

A week went by, in which I spent killing my gallbladder with normal food, and soon, we were back for another ultrasound with the boys in tow. At this appointment, we had a savvy tech who knew how big the baby was and she kept quiet until she found THREE different angles to confirm the baby's gender. During this time, I kept saying, "Oh, is that a boy? That's a boy, right? A boy?"

She kept replying, "Uh, not sure. . . I wouldn't say that just yet. . . "

Then, she paused the ultrasound and typed out, "It's a GIRL"

Andrew and I responded, "It's a GIRL?!"

And Henry started screaming and crying. He had said all week that he wanted the baby to be a boy. He wasn't kidding, I guess. So while Henry cried, and we laughed, the baby girl jumped and kicked.

Such a sweet-looking baby for such a trouble maker.

One of the money shots.

Once we left the ultrasound place, Andrew wanted to go right then to get the baby an outfit. Andrew did. Really? Should I be jealous already? Soon Henry was clutching a pink tutu and smiling. He had overcome his gender disappointment and was ready for a little sister.

That evening, Henry continued to show me the prized tutu and would say, "Isn't it beautiful?" He also showed me the bow and said, "This part is beautiful too, right?"

The baby's new clothes were on the couch and I asked the brothers where we should keep them. Raymond said, "Oh, I know," and he and Henry marched off with their prized outfits. This is where they ended up, on their backpack/jacket rack in their room.

Meanwhile, we are gearing up for a new phase, the phase where I have to be the mother again. Andrew returns to work on the 1st and I will be on my own. Finally, right? I REALLY wish my gallbladder was healthy, it is my number one concern now. I wish my doctors cared about it too. But overall, I hope being on my own will speed my overall recovery and rebuild my strength.

Better Days: 12 weeks, 6 days

2012-04-14T21:29:00.002-07:00

A week ago Saturday, I had a burst of emotion, meaning, I wanted to be "the mom" again. I wanted my life back. So in a moment of weakness, I walked out of the bedroom and said, "Nanny, go ahead and take the day the rest of the day off, I'll call you if I need you."

The boys then spent the day like lost boys, eating cold leftovers out of the fridge and watching four or five movies in a row. I took Charlotte out only once for the bathroom, and almost lost consciousness on the stairs. When Andrew walked in the door at 9:30 pm, I said, "I'm sorry." The boys, and the house, were a mess. But hey, we were all alive.

So of course I needed the nanny that day, but that move sent in motion a lot of change. The next day, it was back in the ER for the gallbladder, and Andrew began serious talks with work about how to handle the madness. In short, work told Andrew it was more than okay to take time off to get his needy, lame wife back in shape. Plus with the hefty nanny bill, it made little difference money-wise.

Just as we were about to tell the nanny the change in command, she called to let us know she had a concussion and couldn't come to work. Win-win.

It was as if the universe was in transition, and no one was immune. Her mother brought her by a couple days later to give us back our booster seats and for us to pay her one last time. It was bittersweet. Henry(and Charlotte) had grown attached. So it is true, I am replaceable, but I am smart enough not to take it personally.

Meanwhile, with Andrew home, life took on a different feeling. I went off my medicine Monday, and then crashed and went back on Thursday. This morning, I went back off again. It is a very hard balance wherein the meds' side effects are becoming worse than the help they provide. Andrew also thinks the Reglan irritates my gallbladder. And Zofran- well, that's the most horrid drug in the world because it STOPS your entire digestive system. When you aren't eating anyways, that doesn't really matter, but once you start to eat again. . . sucks for you.

At the same time, I have been pushing myself to be more active. Monday, it was walking to the apartment pool and back. Tuesday, it was swimming at the apartment pool and sitting in the sun. Wednesday, it was riding around Costco in a handicap scooter cart. I know, I'm cool. Thursday and Friday, I was dead again and as Andrew helped me, he wondered aloud, "What happened?"

I think I may have done too much, too soon, and/or the baby was in a growth spurt. Last night, I went to bed after crying over powdered potatoes and slept for 14 hours straight(well, as straight as pregnancy sleep is with peeing every 3 hours). I woke up today with the similar feelings of earlier in the week, feelings of, "Hey, I'm not dying."

On our way to Henry's t-ball game this afternoon, we found out it was cancelled due to weather and never was there a more excited four-year-old using the word, "Cancelled!" "Maymond, guess what, it is cancelled. The t-ball is cancelled!" With the cancellation, Andrew took us to Chick-Fil-A because I wanted a grilled chicken sandwich. And yes, I can keep that down now! I haven't been more proud of myself since the day I got someone normal to marry me.

Henny with his Maymond

Sexy. And no, I didn't eat the oranges, those are on the "no-eat list."

This past week, I believe it was Sunday, I ate my first vegetable in six weeks: baby carrots. It was amazing. I yelled to Andrew, "It tastes like dirt, like mother nature, like life!" He puts up with a lot.

I have been researching gallbladder diets to avoid/minimize the pain. No dairy, eggs, nuts, beans, cabbage, red meat, oranges, onions, and blah blah.

I'm pretty over powdered potatoes and have moved on to oatmeal and small turkey sandwiches. Andrew started making me oatmeal with almond milk, brown sugar, and cinnamon. The baby is a fan. I am also loving grapes, carrots, apples, and lettuce. I've been dreaming of a fresh pear too. When we leave the house, I have to pack Andrew's lunch cooler with all my special food. Heaven forbid I go more than an hour without eating! It is like we already live with a baby.

So grains, poultry, and produce. Anyone else on that diet? Mmmm yeah. The universe will not let me be fat anymore. Thanks universe?

One last thing that happened this week was a major change-out in family room furniture. I needed a place to act dead besides the bedroom, so Andrew found the biggest, leather-est, sectional for the cheapest, and it was delivered this morning. Now I can act dead while reclining out in the main room with my whole family! It is great and I feel a part of the action again. I no longer have to walkie-talkie for a glass of water. This couch and I are already best friends, which is good because I've been lonely as hell.

free, only want to be free/12 weeks, 0 days

2012-04-08T19:53:00.001-07:00

I'm not sure why I've been so consistent with posting the dates of the pregnancy as titles. Maybe it has something to do with me counting weeks on both Raymond's and Henry's pregnancies to know when I got worse, got better, etc. Also, it helps to see the progress, little by little, and to know I never want to be six weeks pregnant again. Poor souls.

Andrew and I weren't sure about having this baby, and now that we are in the middle of growing it, we are in love, but we(I) also know it is the last hurrah. So maybe one day, when I am a tube-tied old woman(next year), I can scan through these days and remember, "Oh gosh, no, sad."

Also, one time I was with FOUR children at the SAME time in public and I wanted to just run out of that ice cream shop and keep going until I reached the end of the earth. I took that feeling as a sign of how big of a family I could handle.

As for the ER count, we are at five visits, three within the last week and a half. I have started a new drug called Reglan that moves everything right out of my stomach and downward and onward. It has made it that much harder to puke, and well, that's a good thing. Last night, I found myself sick and I thought, "Oh no, oh no," but not much happened, besides a sad, rejected vitamin b6 pill and stomach acid. I know, gross. Sorry.

So this past week, I remained both hydrated AND fed and it was good. Then, I started getting pains on my right side after each small meal and I'll bring you three days and also five hours in the ER later- my gallbladder is on the fritz. I don't know why, maybe because my body has metabolized around 20 lbs of fat in the last six weeks to survive, maybe all the hormones, maybe this and maybe that. . . but my gallbladder is full of "sludge." I know, it gets sexier every time I post. Almost as sexy as the diagram my doctor drew for me on a paper towel:

Actually, as Andrew drove me to the hospital today, he said, "I love taking you to the hospital. It is the only time I get to spend time with you."

And I think I said, "Uh huh."

I don't know what the plan is from this point, luckily it is early in the pregnancy and surgery is still an option. I can't eat fattening foods, but really, I can't eat hardly anything so my diet remains the same: applesauce, bananas, potatoes, and other fine foods.

So tonight, after thoroughly googling "gallbladder sludge" and "second trimester gallbladder surgery," I played a few songs for the baby on my belly.

Oh, I forgot to add that yes, the baby is fine. And we've seen it quite a bit. Today, it would only show us its butt on the ultrasound, but it was a good butt, and we were proud.

So I played the baby songs, and the very first song, shaping our baby for the rest of its life, was "America" by Neil Diamond. And I cried. Because I imagined that the baby was just as trapped as I was, the baby in a grapefruit-sized uterus, and me, in a dark apartment bedroom, and we were both trapped. Trapped but on our way. . . to America/October 2012.

Far
We've been travelling far
Without a home
But not without a star

Free
Only want to be free
We huddle close
Hang on to a dream

On the boats and on the planes
They're coming to America
Never looking back again
They're coming to America

Home, don't it seem so far away
Oh, we're travelling light today
In the eye of the storm
In the eye of the storm . . .

11 weeks, 0 days

2012-04-01T14:08:00.002-07:00

Consciously, things have been bad. While I've been awake this week, I've had two ER visits and many hours of pain and frustration. The medications aren't working well and I'm not working well.

Unconsciously, I dream of eating cheerios (with cold milk) and of those fruit juice/lemonade machines that keep cycling the juice down the side. I'm about to cry thinking about those. They make me so thirsty.

I am lonely but I can't handle much human interaction. I did cut the boys' nails the other day, and that's the most time I've had with them in quite awhile. They were helpful and still and careful, not like little boys at all.

I'll try to stay more classy like C. Bronte and not whine about my sufferings, but instead brag about Andrew. Andrew for sure loses his cool with me(i.e. the HG) but he always comes around and continues to care for me and be my advocate with the medical professionals. The poor guy sleeps on the couch now so he doesn't have to listen to me moan all night or yell at him in his sleep, "You breathed on me! You breathed on me!!" Sad days and broken nights, for sure.

"I am not going to talk of my sufferings, it would be useless and painful. I want to give you an assurance, which I know will comfort you, and that is, that I find in my husband the tenderest nurse, the kindest support, the best earthly comfort that ever woman had. His patience never fails, and it is tried by sad days and broken nights." -Charlotte Bronte, purported to have died from Hyperemesis Gravidarum

9 weeks, 5 days

2012-03-23T21:12:00.001-07:00

I truly hope the HG peaked within the last week. This week's major change has been the ability to keep down water. I don't know if it is a peak of hormones or increased medications, or both, but I'll take it.

Last night was especially difficult, but I continued to drink water after being sick and it stayed down. I think that is one of the strangest lessons HG teaches you- to drink and to eat when it is the last thing you feel like doing- the last thing you CAN do. HG is obnoxious and exhausting.

Luckily, overall, yesterday was a milestone in that I made it to the doctor for a normal appointment. Andrew had the day off work and it all went so well. Henry packed along a tupperware of Rice Chex for me, and we all got to see the baby on the ultrasound. The doctor and nurse were very compassionate and serious about the HG, I even got to lay down for the whole appointment with my eyes closed while Andrew answered questions. I only had to pipe up to correct him or add to it.

I also saw a couple of newborns with their moms in the waiting room, and I remembered, "Oh yeah, a baby." I forget about that part.

Raymond has certainly been stressed lately and having a hard time with all the change. All of the sudden he found himself mostly without both dad AND mom. This has been the cause of some tears and rough days for the boy. He does get along with the nanny, but I know this situation has been hard for him. I also wonder if it has something to do with the time change- bedtime tends to be later now and he has early school at 7:40 am. He might just be a worn-out, oversized six-year-old.

Henry seems more resilient, mostly because the nanny is way more likely to play all sorts of games(like video games for hours and hours) with him than I am. I don't sense resentment from him either. Almost every evening, he bounces into my room to give me a rundown of what's going on, then bounces away.

Charlotte stinks. I'm debating whether to give the nanny my birthday money to take Charlotte in for a bath. I hope I will like Charlotte again in a month or two.

Andrew is doing well with having a steady job, he is overwhelmed on his days off. We all just need too much attention, including the laundry.

One day this week, after washing my hair with shampoo, I just laid in bed and cried over the smell. The experience was so painful, I stopped showering. Luckily, a couple of days later Andrew brought home baby shampoo and I braved the shower once again.

Overall, I am grateful that hydrated days pass much more quickly that dehydrated days. With water in my system, I'm daydreaming of May and the rest of my life.

nine weeks, zero days

2012-03-18T14:41:00.003-07:00

Are you tired of hearing about HG? Good. I'm tired of living it, so we must be friends.

This past week started okay and slowly went from okay to bad. Around Wednesday, I stopped being able to handle any sort of food and could only handle minimal amounts of water. I could only sip enough to wet my mouth.

The only thing that worked, really, was Otter Pops. I spent my days opening my bedroom door and calling, "Nanny, can I have some Otter Pops please?" Then I would collapse back onto the bed, thoroughly worn out.

On Friday, I told Andrew that when he got back from his shift that I needed to go to the hospital. The problem, once he got home, was that I was too weak to make the trip. So that afternoon, he literally force fed blended ice into my mouth. I said "no," and cried between spoonfuls. Following the ice, I got force fed jello. Then, I willingly sipped on chicken broth. At this point, it was late and time for bed. I was proud of myself, even though Andrew did all the dirty work.

In the middle of that night, despite all the hard work, I started vomiting again. I woke Andrew and begged for the hospital. He said, "No, not with the boys," and "in the morning." I laid for hours in bed, trying to forget the pain and to fall asleep once more. Luckily, I did fall asleep and I awoke a few hours later.

With the rest, I was strong enough to put on clothes and shoes and I told Andrew I was ready. He got the boys ready and they took me in. Once the fluids started, Andrew left with the boys and I spent the morning getting rehydrated and medicated. The same doctor was on shift as last week and I heard a nurse say, "She has better color this week." Yes, I'm famous . . . famous as the wuss pregnant girl with bad hair.

After only six or so hours at the ER, I came home and slept really well. I've been able to handle water(a glass over three or four hours) and food(dry Rice Chex). Jealous much?

Meanwhile, Andrew is struggling with insurance to get the medicine I need. They have it down to the hour for when they will do a refill. My Zofran has been upped to 8 mg every 6 hours. I also still have(or have a new one) the UTI from the chronic dehydration and have been put on an antibiotic to take every six hours. I'm a little nervous about keeping down a real pill for a week. Andrew has also been working on transferring me to a closer doctor office with privileges at the nearest hospital. I'd rather change doctors than sit in a car for an extra five miles.

I also spotted many times this week, but my cervix is closed and all seems well with the actual pregnancy. The actual family is doing pretty well too. I really miss Andrew, Raymond, Henry, and Charlotte. One night, I made it to the couch and Charlotte sat, leaning into me, and Henry climbed up and curled up right by me. Luckily, for twenty minutes or so, my love for them was bigger than my smell aversions. It was pretty exciting.

thirty with the third (baby)

2012-03-12T18:51:00.001-07:00

I'm thirty years old today. I guess I need to start thinking about getting married, having a family, and settling down. I mean, maintaining my almost decade-old marriage, FINISHING my family, and okay, yes, still settling down.

But most of all, I need to start thinking about the last time I showered. Thanks HG!

Here are some images of HG over the last few weeks. . .

Making a list because, of course, there has to SOMETHING that'll work. :(

The whole family got excited the week the baby started to look like SOMETHING, even it if was a dinosaur.

Andrew caught me laying on the floor in the corner of the family room. I said, "Our room is too bright." He went right to work with his black-out specialty.

The boys have been motherless for 2 weeks, but they don't seem to notice/mind thanks to the hard work of their grandma. Oh, and the attention of their nanny.

First trip to the ER. This might look sad, but it is not nearly as sad as what my hair looked like. The doctor said, "Clearly, you are not . . . flying. . . so I don't want to let you go." I was in the hospital on fluids for 16 hours. Once I started to care about my hair, they let me go. Self-consciousness equals hydration!

If I can stand TV, I search for the boring stuff. No flashing, no food, no loud. Last week, I watched Yanni's Puerto Rican concert three times. Thanks PBS!

At the end of last week, I found that being blind in my bedroom wasn't enough. I needed to cut out another of my five senses. Andrew brought these home for me and now, I can Helen Keller in my bedroom anytime I want to.

season opener

2012-03-10T13:33:00.002-08:00

On Monday, my mom drove over from Arizona right in time for Andrew to go to his work shift. She then took us to Henry's first t-ball game. I was so happy I was feeling up for it. As we were leaving for the game, I was grabbing snacks to last me a couple of hours, and both of the boys freaked out about getting "enough" snacks for themselves. We are all pretty pregnant around here.

The weather was cool and the field had been groomed up quite nicely for the game. Henry had a great time and told me he made "lots of points."

Rounding the bases. Easy to do when "outs" aren't enforced.

What is better than one first baseman? Two of course!

Henry on deck, getting ready to bat.

Go Padres!!!! The team of four-year-olds in Menifee, of course. Henry's name and number is in the bottom left corner.

On the bench with his teammates.

seven weeks, 6 days

2012-03-10T13:22:00.000-08:00

This past week my mom has been in town to help out. She is getting her fill of Raymond, Henry, and Charlotte to last her a very long time. :)

I got progressively worse this past week and kept nothing down on Thursday. Early yesterday morning(Friday) Andrew took me into the ER for fluids. I spent the whole day at the hospital, in all, I had four bags of fluids, 2 Zofran treatments, 2 Phenagran treatments, and an antibiotic treatment for an apparent UTI from the dehydration. I also had the most unexciting ultrasound where the technician did not allow me to see the screen or answer any of my questions.

"Um, at least, is there a baby in there?"

"I can't say."

Hours later, a nurse said, "You have a viable fetus. But I didn't tell you that."

I think around 11 pm they let me go last night. I begged Andrew for a cracker, for something, after not being able to eat for two days, but he was a good fake doctor and kept me on my "liquid" diet. He gave me a lifesaver and told me to be quiet and go to sleep.

I finally got some much needed rest last night. I remember in the hospital, I fell asleep for a short time during the second bag, and in my dreams, I was announcing to everyone that I felt better. Poor brain, trying to sort all these feelings out.

This afternoon, I am starting up on the BRAT diet with a celebratory piece of white toast, first "food" staying down in 60 hours or so. I am finally on Zofran, 4 mg every 6 hours. I believe with Henry I was 8 mg every 4 to 6 hours, so I guess there is still room for more if/when I crash again.

My body is shifting, a lot of the familiar feelings are back. I see a lot of stars and flashing all the time. I black out a bit when I stand up. My sense of smell is out of control and very unhelpful.

Meanwhile, Andrew sold his first truck, Raymond had his first book fair at school, and Henry had his first t-ball game. They are all very high-performing. It is amazing the things you can do with life with you can eat and drink with your mouth. The wonders!

six weeks, six days

2012-03-03T15:52:00.000-08:00

This past week, Andrew worked a million hours and the nanny started. Both, things, of course, that don't cause nausea but you know me, I've never been good at cause and effect.

I asked the nanny to not wear perfume. She said, "I don't."

I did very well this past week, nothing that could be labeled HG. There was sickness and I did throw-up once, but I knew it fell under the normal label NVP- "nausea and vomiting during pregnancy." I kept down most everything and was completely hydrated.

Then, just like that, this morning, I crashed. I never can relate or understand or remember what it is until it is HERE.

I haven't kept down anything today, Andrew is at the store getting lemonade mix and potato chips. Two things I know have a chance, I think. Poor guy.

Andrew also hung blankets and made our room as black as night. And so after laying here in the dark hour after hour, listening to Enya, crying, I know that it is back. Because what healthy, normal person would do that?

My mind has taken me to try some coping methods, to soften the feelings and the pain and the panic. My mind actually has flashed through all I've been through since the last pregnancy. The places, the people, the feelings, the change. And my mind told me I was stronger since then. That I would be okay.

So I take myself above this room, above this apartment, above this town, and I go out to sea. There, I relax above the waves and feel all the calm I've ever felt or will feel. And there, I am fine.

I know I sound like a whack job. I am. Luckily, Charlotte and the baby don't care. They are along for the ride. Charlotte sleeps on the floor besides the bed, moaning when Enya gets too dramatic. And the baby, well, the baby is also in the dark, unaware of any drama, any light, any pain.

Maybe in a few weeks, I'll put headphones on my stomach and play music for the baby, You know, shake things up a bit in there. Although, I did that for Raymond and he hasn't stopped singing or humming since.

Okay, I lied.

2012-02-26T16:33:00.003-08:00

Okay, I lied. I do want a baby.

We can do this!!

(Henry, a few days old)

six weeks, zero days

2012-02-26T14:50:00.001-08:00

There are a lot of changes going on.

For one, Andrew started at work. It looks as if his weekly work schedule will run Thursdays through Mondays.

For two, I am really tired but still functional. The doctor's appointment went well and she wants to monitor me through the HG, to make sure I'm never "too" dehydrated and that my ketones are never "too" high.

For medication at this point, I am taking vitamin b6 (25 mg) every 8 hours, Zantac (150 mg) at bedtime and in the morning, and Colace at night. I will add Unisom (25mg) to the b6 dosages when the nausea worsens. I may also up the b6 dosages.

I am also eating a protein snack every 1.5 to 2 hours.

All of this just kind of feels like madness because I don't know what I will be able to truly do or maintain once I am sick.

For three, we hired a short-term nanny. She will be here every time Andrew is at work until I am done with the HG. I am working on getting her prepared to be able to everything for the boys- nebulizer treatments, school drop-off/pick-up, t-ball practices/games, etc.

This has all been really stressful. I don't know if it is because of my hormones, or because it is a lot of change, but I just feel so sad. I don't really want to do this. I don't want to be sick, I don't want another person with my boys, and I don't really want a baby. Sorry baby.

For four, on Thursday, we took the boys to "The Phantom Menace" for a big family date before I get sick. Raymond also had the week off of school, so it was a nice outing. The boys were so excited to go to the movies. Raymond was glued, of course, and Henry got very restless. And I actually followed the storyline. I never really "sit" through anything Star Wars or Star Trek, so being captive, I watched the movie. And it was okay.

I wish I was okay.

five weeks, zero days

2012-02-19T22:18:00.000-08:00

I am five weeks pregnant today. Still "normal" except for some cry-on-demand hormones. Not bad crying, just fast, unfounded crying. The kind that husbands REALLY love.

I am of course overwhelmed with the thoughts of baby. Even though I debated this decision for the last six months/four years, it is still completely shocking to have this life change.

For the first few days after we found out, Andrew would smile at me across the room and mouth, "I'm so happy." Now with my crying, we are back to normal. You know, romantically watching television in different rooms after the boys are in bed.

Also, we both ask the other if they noticed what we've selflessly accomplished around the house. "Did you know I (insert house chore) three times today? Well, I did." LOVERS!!

Having and sharing the flu from monster flu land hasn't helped either. I've been running a fever for three days and Andrew keeps telling me to stop acting like I'm dying. LOVERS!!

I hope for some normal, healthy days to get ready for the Hyperemesis Gravidarum. Which means I just want to vacuum the house before turning invalid. And do one last round of laundry. And shave my legs. Kind of like getting ready for a hurricane, actually. Thanks life experience.

Once the HG hits, though, I won't care about any of it, at all. I'll just think about water and how I can't get water into my body and how I want water so bad and I'll stare at the ceiling and cry dry tears. Yes, I'm scared out of my mind. I never wanted to do this again, but I am.

I am because the best part of my life has been my two young sons. I am because I am a bit daft. I am because despite my insecurities, I know I can mother and I can mother well. I am because I already love this baby. I love this family and even though this baby seems somewhat extraneous at this point, it is exciting. And I know that one day, we will ask, "How did we ever live without you, third extraneous baby?"

I asked my sister-in-law if she was ready to have two extra children for a couple of months and she laughed and said, "Of course!" I don't know if she was sincere, or if she thought I was joking, or what. But at least I warned her, right?

The timing is also odd/coincidental in that it is the same time of year that I was pregnant with Raymond and Henry. Another spring HG, another fall baby.

Andrew finally starts work at the exact same time I have my first OBGYN appointment this week. I have such mixed feelings about this- excited for the job, of course, but stressed about how to get through March and April, weeks seven through fourteen. He said we just have to take it as it comes, solve as we go.

A friend called me tonight, and said, "Well, at least you are more afraid of the pregnancy than the RAISING A PERSON part." At least, you know?

The following chart from http://www.helpher.org/family/faqs.php highlights the difference between Morning Sickness and Hyperemesis Gravidarum. If you are tired of hearing about it, sorry, because this is just the beginning. Yes!

burning up

2012-02-19T19:45:00.000-08:00

We've been fighting the flu around here. Yes, indeed, it is time for our monthly virus. And the word "fighting" is a bit of an over-statement. Really we've all just turned into feverish ginger-ale sipping zombies.

Raymond was the first one to come down with it just over a week ago. He sat for days, listless on the couch with a fever and congestion. Then, as Raymond finally showed some improvement, Henry and I crashed. And it is YUCK.

Raymond was so sick, he even drank raspberry tea with honey and said he liked it.

last friday

2012-02-14T13:46:00.000-08:00

Last week, I realized I hated my long hair.

I hated it for two days. Then, Andrew, who admitted he didn't like it either, cut it all off. Thanks Andrew.

I could finally give myself a faux-hawk.

Finally.

It was so inspirational, our niece turned her Barbie into a "Janae."

I was even set to take it to white blonde, something I've wanted to do for years and years.

But before I started the process, I peed on a stick.

And that is how, in ONE DAY, both of my resolutions of 2011 were broken. I had cut off my hair and I had gotten pregnant. I know it is really early to announce it, but I've never had the luxury of hiding a first trimester. So I thought I'd share while I am still excited- and before I want to die.

The family is very excited. Henry wants to name the baby, "letters and numbers," specifically HYSV4. Raymond wants to name the baby Anakin.

Henry keeps telling me what we need for the baby, "Mommy, we need socks for the baby! Socks!"

I asked, "Shots?"

He replied, horrified, "No!! Socks!"

Raymond told me, "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you know how your belly is bigger after me and Henry? Well, it is going to be even bigger after the baby."

Henry told me at breakfast today that, "if the baby's hair is down, then it is a boy. If it is up, then it is a girl."

Up or down, ready or not, he or she is on the way.

the big leagues

2012-02-12T10:45:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning, we headed down to San Diego for the Padres' Fan Fest. We became Padres "fans" after Henry's hat night last week, how couldn't we? It was a really fun morning, and Henry asked as we left, "Can we do this every time?" I believe for the boys it was more fun than an actual game- they got to run the bases, play in the outfield, and sit in the dugout(or, as Henry called it, the basement).

And of course, the courtesy video: