Posted in Parenting, Pregnancy

Luvs Breastfeeding Commercial

Apparently this television commercial is causing quite the stir among viewers everywhere. Some of the comments on YouTube are quite heated, and others are quite supportive. So, have a gander:

Personally, I feel as if it’s a woman’s right to nurse where she chooses. Had I not been gifted a cover, I’m not sure what I would have done in public situations such as this — or if I’d have gone out in public at all the first few weeks. (I’m uber self conscious.) Let me know what you think:

Posted in Life, Pregnancy

Dreams II

I have fallen victim to the most bizarre dreams during the last few weeks of this pregnancy.  I’m not sure what my little brain is trying to tell me, but some of them are getting down-right regular and insistent upon my sub-consciousness.

Twin Lemurs

According to, lemurs “[indicate] that there is something in your life that you are not seeing clearly. You are lacking understanding, knowledge or awareness of some situation. Unconscious thoughts may be trying to push to the surface.”  Twins “signify ambivalence, dualities or opposites. It also represents security in business, faithfulness, and contentment with life. It may also mean that you are either in harmony with or in conflict between ideas and decisions.”  Gee…that helps.

Apparently, I’m not seeing things clearly, but I may have faithfulness and contentment with it…or conflict.  I’ll take ambiguity for $1000, Alex.

Jude is a Guinea Pig

Another dream I have is that our son (whom we’ve decided to name Jude, in case you didn’t get that part from this heading) is born a long-hair tan, white, and black guinea pig.  The maternity ward nurse tries to assure me that this happens often and is completely normal and that he should “grow out of it.”  Going back to our dream site “to see a guinea pig in your dream represents your need to be more responsible and attentive. Alternatively, it suggests that through experimentation and taking risks, you learn how and how not to do something.  You learn from your mistakes.”  Heh…so, I need to be more responsible toward this child, but apparently I’ve also learned how not to create one??

Ooookay.  I was pretty sure I was well aware of that concept by the tenth time it got pounded into my head in my college Health class, not to mention this wee baby was actually planned.  We were a little OCD about not starting a family until we were ready for one – make that as ready as we could possibly be for one.  Is anyone ever truly ready?  I mean, unless they make multiple millions and can afford to hire a live in nanny/staff who’s sole purpose is to make sure the Daikini baby makes it through the infant stage and into childhood and beyond.


Okay, enough of my ranting.  Hopefully I’ll get back to reading something soon.  Recently it’s been all I can do to get up in the morning, work on the nursery, do an ungodly amount of baby laundry, and make my way to various appointments (including Doctors, veterinarians, pet groomers…I’m trying to get everybody in this household prepared for baby’s arrival so we’re not racing around trying to take care of these miscellaneous errands with an infant). Stick with me folks…it’s going to be a bumpy ride.  😉

Posted in Life, Pregnancy

Third Trimester Lessons….

You don’t know the meaning of exhaustion until the final six weeks…

Seriously.  I’ve never felt this tired in my life.  It’s not like a “I got a shitty night of sleep last night and I could take a nap” it’s more like “I’m so tired it takes effort to raise my arms above my head.”  I’m sure this type of exhaustion will continue into our initial infant experience, but I’m hoping I don’t have this heaviness I’ve been experiencing…or at least a bit more minimal amount.

Sweating is a part of life…

I used to think I sweat easy before I became pregnant, not so much anymore.  Mind you, I live in the Mojave Desert, so heat (100+ temps) is a part of life during the summer and I’m no stranger to sweating out the hotter days, but this is something else entirely.  It’s like you generate your own heat and it’s trying to kill you like an evil and inescapable sauna room.

Everyone has advice…

…even though they may have not even have had children yet.  The trick is accepting it all with grace and picking and choosing what you think will work for you.  Thankfully I was spared the large opinions about names that women on the pregnancy forum I frequent were subjected to.  We only got two negative responses to the name we selected for our son and the rest were very supporting and enthusiastic about it.

“How are you feeling?!” is possibly the most irritating question in the world.

I’m 37 weeks pregnant, can’t walk straight, half the time my hip hurts too much to really move, I’m exhausted, and you want me to reply with what exactly??

No pregnancy is the same.

I was the tip of the iceberg in the pregnancy tidal wave that hit my work place.  Out of the five girls that announced that they were pregnant, I’ve gained the least and was totally stressed out that I wasn’t gaining enough.  So, FTM freak out at the OB office and I get told to calm down and that I was “a-okay.”  I also haven’t had to buy any maternity pants, my boobs didn’t grow (thank God…I’m already a 36 DD) although I did have to go up a band size, and I didn’t suffer from any constant constipation, unbearable morning sickness, or gross discharge from any orifice of my body.  I did have gestational gingivitis which seems to have relented after seeing my dental hygienist last month and I suffered from really strong cramping while I was at work, but I know that was due to spending up to 9 hours on my feet a day and only being afforded two 10 minute breaks and a lunch during that time frame.  If I could have had more breaks/sat down when I needed to, I think I could have remained at work longer than what I did.

I am still the world’s worse procrastinator.

Well, maybe not the worst, but I’m still pretty bad about it.  We waited until week 35 (almost 36) to really get into the nursery and get it ready (paint and all).  The final parts for the dresser should be here Monday, but all the laundry is washed, sorted and ready to go.  Now, at week 37 I still need to pack for the hospital.  Haha.  I figure if he decides to arrive early, the hospital should have most of what I need anyway.  Honestly, I only need to purchase a couple more things to have all we need to pack anyway.

Yes, I’m still going to school.

I’m only taking one class though.  If I hadn’t have been a procrastinator, I could have had it completed by now.  I mean, it’s the ABCs of Internet…why am I still avoiding my homework like a high school student?  Old habits die hard.

Posted in Life, Pregnancy

A Little Update on Life

Sorry about my elusiveness.  Things have been a little hectic.

I returned to work on Tuesday and even though my doctor limited me to 25 hours, but work scheduled me 32.  Thankfully, this little error has been corrected in next week’s schedule, but I’m so tired from pushing through the 32.  I feel like such a weakling as I would have relished in the chance at having more hours than they were giving me before, but my body would just not stop aching from being on my feet for eight hours a day.  My back and hips hurt, my shoulders ached, and most of all my feet were throbbing.  I even bought new shoes in hopes that it would help me but by hour six on my feet those are even non-helpful and the last two hours become about pain management and surviving.  Hopefully I haven’t been short with customers and since I haven’t heard anything about being so, I’m assuming it’s all in my head or they’re just to dense to realize my crankiness.

As for the pregnancy, all the issues I was having during the first trimester seem to have cleared up.  My OB-GYN felt comfortable enough to return me to work with some limitations due to my recent history of hypertension caused by that place.  Oh, and we’re having a boy!!  I now feel comfortable enough to announce it since I’ve had the doctor confirm it three times now.  I’m sure he’s becoming so annoyed with me, but my husband and myself really wanted a boy and it seems almost too good to be true that we’d be blessed with one.  My family has nothing but boys so he’ll have plenty of playmates during the holidays (one of which will only be ten months older than him….seems large now, but it won’t in a couple of years).  The family, however, is dealing with a bit of gender disappointment.  They really wanted a girl to shower with pink and affection.  I remember being that girl and I also remember wanting an RC Car like my brothers and cousins got for Christmas and getting clothes instead.  This won’t be happening if we have a girl in the future.

As for the Cystic Fibrosis scare…the blood lab failed to test my husband’s blood while it was viable.  Given the fact that we wouldn’t terminate even if the test was positive, we decided to forgo it completely.  I won’t submit the baby to amniocentesis either, so I figure we can just request the test after he’s born.  Given the 4% chance that my husband is even a carrier and the 25% chance that the baby would be born with it if he was, we feel confident in our decision to wait.

Oh…and picture!!!

Posted in Life, Pregnancy

The Raping of Medical Insurance

Geez.  How do I start?  This is going to be a bit of a ramble, so forgive me.

About a week ago as I was returning home from a walk around my neighborhood and almost having my Golden Retriever dive himself in front of a truck pulling a trailer, I received a phone call from my doctor.  Specifically one of the nurses at my OB-GYN’s office.  I’d had six viles of blood taken at a blood lab the week prior and the nurse asked me if I had any knowledge that I was a Cystic Fibrosis (CF) carrier.  At first I was baffled:

  • Is she saying I’m a carrier?
  • Is this something that every person knows the answer to?  Like common knowledge of what color hair you have on your head?
  • Should I know this?  When I was born did they forget to run a test?!

I answered, “no.”  I didn’t know or if I did know at one time, I had no idea now.  What followed was what I always do when doctors call and say that I may or may not have a condition.  I get “high on information.”  I always find security in knowing.  By the end of the day, I already knew that if I was a carrier that my husband would also need to be a carrier to have a risk that our child would be born with CF and thanks to that little chart we learn in High School Biology, that the baby would only have a 25% chance of having the disease, a 50% chance of being a carrier, and a 25% chance of having no trace of the disease.  Either way, it was clear that the next logical step would be for my husband to be tested to see if there was any reason to worry at all.

When I went back for my two week check-up (that’s a whole other story entirely due to the complications I’ve been having), he said that the results were still “processing” on terms of the CF results and that he would have one of the nurses call me about the results later in the day as they should be done almost two weeks later.  All of my other tests came back normal, so at least I’m secure and comfortable in that knowledge.

Finally at almost six o’clock last night, the nurse called me back and said that I tested positive as a carrier of CF and that I had one of 32 markers of the disease.  She continued to say that they were going to make an appointment for me with some “specialist” to determine if the baby contracted CF or not.  When I asked her if my husband needed to be tested to see if he was a carrier of CF, she said, “no” and that’s when I got all sorts of red flags.  I chose to not argue it out with her on the phone as we were at my in-laws and about ready to step out for dinner (which was really yummy by the way) and I was so taken aback at the moment I would have stammered and stuttered my way through the whole conversation and made little to no sense.

The tests to determine if the baby has CF or not while in utero are invasive to say the least.  Chorionic villus sampling requires taking a sample from the placenta of our baby and amniocentesis just gives me the heebee-jeebes at best; both have a risk of miscarriage at worst.  Amniocentesis also carries a risk that if the person performing the procedure isn’t careful, damage can be done to the fetus’ body if it’s pricked with the needle.  While wikipedia claims that these tests’ results outweigh the risk involved, it doesn’t for me.  While CF used to be a death sentence, many live good quality lives well into their forties and have little amount of symptoms which anyone would notice and would strike them as “different.”  I’m not in denial here, let’s make that perfectly clear.  They would get sick, but many “healthy” children also do so, we’d just have to be a little more careful than most.  The worry for me is that the nurse said to “determine if the baby contracted CF or not” which means the only way they can be sure is if they perform one of these tests which are both unnecessary if my husband isn’t a carrier in the first place.  Which brings me to my final conlusion:

When you have really good insurance in the USA, which myself and my husband do…we slave away at a job that we find makes us absolutely miserable for our insurance…I feel as if the medical community sees huge dollar signs in front of their eyes when they see our charts.  These tests are expensive and while the genetic test to determine if the parents are carriers are also expensive, I doubt that it is anything near the cost of performing these other tests.  And this all goes without mentioning that this is our child and we will protect him/her with all the power we have, even if it is against medical advice.

Posted in Life, Pregnancy


One of my friends warned me that while I was pregnant I would have some rather vivid dreams.  She was right.  I’ve had dreams of Apocalyptic proportions where my husband and myself are running for our lives and fighting for survival.  I’ve had dreams of our future child.  I’ve had dreams about the dogs.  The other night I had a dream about my great-grandmother and that one really stuck.  Not for the fact that I haven’t dreamed of her for a long time, but because of how vivid it was.  She was the woman who raised me from about the age of 5 because my parents were unable to care for me due to my father losing his job because of his rather hard to manage type I diabetes.

For some reason or another, I’d moved back home because of some ordinance that we suddenly had to return to High School for a year.  I don’t know why we had to move back home, but whatever.  Either way, I was 27 years old and I was getting ready for school at the crack of dawn and trying to find my shoes.  My husband’s sister went to the same High School we did, just 8 years later, and it occurred to me that I could wear my flip-flops (thongs) because they had changed the dress code about them after we had graduated….and I couldn’t find them!!

Of course, like any good and stressful morning before school, my great-grandmother and myself launched into a fight.  I’m not quite sure how it escalated by it ended up like this:

Her: Now, don’t lie to me!  (With knowing/accusatory/omnipotent tone every teen parent has.)

Me: How the hell can I be lying to you?  I’m just trying to find my shoes!!!

Her:  I know you’re lying to me.

Me:  What?!  (Frantically thinking she really does know something)

Her:  You haven’t been donating your change to the homeless at the end of the year!

And that’s when I jerked out of my sleep and was wide awake at 7a in the morning.  That was the most bizarre dream I’ve had in a long time and the irony of it all is that my great-grandmother had no change to donate at all at the end of the year.  After my great-grandfather passed, she raised me on a little over $700/month and she made every penny of it work.  Now as an adult, I can’t even fathom how she made such a little sum work out, but she did it month after month and year after year.  Honestly, I never noticed what we went without until I was in High School, but it really didn’t bother me all that much by that time because I was so used to it.  She was an amazing woman, and although we had some rather strong disagreements before she passed, I also understand that she wasn’t thinking clearly and that her thoughts were coming from a different time period stand point.  She lived through the end of WWI and through WWII, The Great Depression, the Vietnam War, the Korean War… I could go on and on.  She knew what it was to suffer and she truly knew what the “good times” were as well.

Posted in Life, Pregnancy

In a few days….

It’s been quite a few days since I last blogged here on WordPress.  Funny how much has changed.

Two weeks ago, I was suffering from some rather annoying and constant lower back pain.  Aching enough so that it would wake me up in the middle of the night and I found myself sitting against walls trying to straighten out my back and help my posture, which seems to help.  Finally, afraid of my family’s inherently bad backs, I made an appointment with my primary doctor.  He examined my back, asked me if I had this sort of pain before, ordered a back X-Ray and then asked if I was pregnant.

“Erm…I don’t know.”

So, before the back X-Ray I needed to wait for a blood pregnancy test to come back.  No biggy, right?  And thus began the longest week of my husband and my life.  Mind you, we’ve been trying to get pregnant since November, so the whole week we’re wondering if it’s already happened or if I really am going to start having back issues like everyone else in my family.  Keeping busy with work and school wasn’t exactly keeping me busy enough to shut my brain off, but it was keeping me busy enough to hardly get anything done, if that makes any sense.  The following Wednesday we got the call that the test was positive.  What followed was a wave of emotions:

  • I wanted to cry.
  • I wanted to run around my car in joy (I answered the phone in my bank’s parking lot).
  • I thought we’d have more time considering how long I’ve been on the pill.
  • I couldn’t text my husband fast enough (he was at work).
  • I wanted to have a panic attack.
  • I wondered if we truly knew what the heck we had gotten ourselves into.

And then I found myself wondering if every new soon-to-be parent feels that way?  I’m sure there’s going to be a thousand more questions between now and 18 years from now.

Viggo starred in the film adaption of The Road.

After my first prenatal appointment this past week, I also landed myself on 2 weeks of disability.  This is a good and a bad thing.  Good because now I have plenty of time to catch up on all my school work and all my school related reading.  I’ve also got 2 leisure books going at this time; 1984 by George Orwell (by request of my husband) as well as The Lucky One by Nicholas Sparks, so there should be more book reviews coming. I may even hit up The Road by Cormac McCarthy which I read not that long ago and it still haunts my mind.  The bad side to my disability??  The lack of a paycheck because here in the US, disability pay doesn’t kick in until you’ve been off work for 2 weeks or more.  Gonna miss that money.  I’ll probably exhaust my paid sick days at work though so I can maintain my health benefits without having to navigate the paper work through our Union.  Thank goodness we finally caught up and got ahead on the bills.  It is truly amazing sometimes how things have their way of working themselves out.