Well Shit.

Whilst I was in the hospital baking spud, K. a co-worker and friend announced that she too was pregnant, due in early June.

She had a very tumultous first pregnancy about 10 years ago (something having to do with restricted blood flow to her uterus) so much like I, the joy of impending motherhood was tempered by unease at the possible return of the same issue.

When at approx 18 weeks it was discovered she did NOT have that problem with this pregnancy much happiness and joy abounded...her daughter while small seemed to be doing just fine.



Then a few weeks ago, her blood pressure started climbing. Suspecting stress and perhaps early pre-eclampsia, her doctor reduced her working schedule to half/every other day and told her to rest.

Last week, her pressure was alarmingly high, and several tests caused the doctors to hospitalize her..the goal was to get her to March 23, at which time she would be 26 weeks..and then hopefully extend it another two weeks..with the ultimate goal being 30 weeks.



Unfortunately, Saturday morning K, started vomiting..and vomiting and vomiting bile.

And then her liver started to shut down so, she had to have her baby.

Annabelle-

25 weeks and 6 days...

12 oz.

9 1/2 inches long.

Barely longer than an adult hand.



My heart just weeps for her, because I've been there. Seeing that incredibly tiny human laboring for every breath (and mine.the wee-V at 4lbs6oz was a veritable giant compared to Annabelle)

K can't pick her up yet, because she's still too fragile to touch.

But you just sit and talk, knowing that your voice calms them (and you can see that from the monitors beeping above) but also knowing that you may have to hold on to these memories forever if something goes wrong. And you just want to jam as many as possible into your head.

I'm praying so hard I'm getting hemmorhoids..

My three children...

My darling first born...the wee-V....My sweet baby..spud.......And my breast pump



I have a love hate relationship with the latter.

Since I have been forced to return to work, I have enjoyed (not) multiple daily appointments with the breast pump.

Ameda..Purely yours..double pump.

We meet covertly in the file room (after locking the door, hanging up the "go away" sign outside, and covering the big window next to the door)
I loathe this process daily, and look at it akin to thrice daily trips to the dentists office.
The discomfort not withstanding, I find it near to impossible to relax. Which is necessary to stimulate letdown. Every slight sound I hear I am sure I am either inconveniencing someone or someone is going to try to barge in (yes I know I lock the door, I'm paranoid like that) so I'm nervous as a wren which means I only get the most pitiful drops (which I covet nonetheless)

So why dont I just stop? Excellent question.

The one I admit to and champion? Because it is the best thing for my little spud, he is gorgeous and healthy and I know to a certain extent it is because of my dedication to nursing him and providing him with breastmilk.

The other less championed reason? Because I would feel like a failure if I stopped.
I feel like a crappy mother for even complaining about this, because it is such a small sacrifice for the well being of my child. There are women who travel miles to just get clean water for their family and I'm whinging about 20 minutes three times a day? I should be ashamed of myself for my self indulgence.

But I just cannot psyche myself for this task daily at work..I live for the weekends more so now, so that I can leisurely nurse or pump or whatever is the comfort and privacy of my home.

I tell you.....This being a mom stuff is a slippery slope of self flagellation.

Sleep deprivation and natural sunlight

I'm home!
And so is spud!

I apologize for being so neglectful...I suck.

No good excuse other than I was just overwhelmed by everything and had nary a creative thought in my pretty little head.

Plus I kept starting an entry..and then getting sidetracked and leaving it unfinished.

So instead on trying to write it ALL at once...I'm going to have to write it in bits...so please pardon the "hindsite" and eventually I will get everyone caught up on the the roller coaster that is this ride has been.

And eventually I'll even get pictures up.

In the meantime I have done my part to continue the species, and Owen Christopher Dreadful is so gorgeous and wonderful that I'm stunned stupid at how blessed I am.

peas and carats,
-P