Our New Baby

Yesterday was my first pre-natal appointment with Dr. Y.  Honestly, I was quite anxious about it.  I don't really know why other than I think I know more about what can go wrong than I did when I was pregnant with Emma.  

We did the normal stuff, blood work, blood pressure, weight, and then he checked to may sure my uterus was showing signs of pregnancy, which it did.  Then, as we talked more, he suggested that we do an ultrasound to check the gestational age of the baby.  Chuck and I were so excited because with Emma, we didn't do an ultrasound until the second trimester.

The ultrasound tech told us before she started that she would look before putting it on the screen for us to see.  That completely freaked me out.  Luckily, though, it only took her a couple of seconds before she turned our screen on.  We immediately saw our newest addition and he or she already looks like a baby!

So many people have said in the past that you can't tell much this early, that it really just looks like a little blob.  I don't know if it's because I have looked at so many ultrasound pictures or if I was just looking to see a baby, but I could so tell where all the parts are.  It was so exciting and thrilling!  It really made it all real.

I didn't have that with Emma for a while... the realness that you get from seeing.  I knew I was pregnant because I was so sick I could hardly lift my head off the pillow, and I heard her heartbeat, but that was it.

Everything looked good on the ultrasound and our baby measures at 8 weeks and 3 days, today.  Some cysts were spotted and we were told not to worry about them, that they should go away on their own.  However, after the ultrasound, the tech asked us to have a seat in the waiting area because the doctor would need to speak with us again.  Now, I completely freaked out.  We sat in the waiting area for what seemed like forever and then he called for us.  When he didn't take us into a room, I relaxed a little.  He had no news really, just reassurance that everything looked good and that the cysts were nothing to be concerned about.

He gave me a prescription for my sickness, which I am so very grateful for and told us that he was excited for us and looked forward to our next visit in a month.  I look forward to it as well.  I am always anxious to hear our baby's heartbeat and get the reassurance that everything is still going great.

We left feeling good and glad that even though it is a 2 1/2 hour drive that we decided to keep seeing Dr. Y.  He is so good at what he does and truly is invested in his patients.   And as Chuck put it, "He seemes as excited as we are about this baby" which makes me know that sticking with him was the right decision!

Surviving the Dog Days...

..of pregnancy that is.  If you've been there, you know the ones I am talking about.  The days of being sick as a dog, the days of being dog tired... the dog days.  I am in the midst of these days; and if this pregnancy is anything like my first, I have many, many more to go.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I felt really good.  And, as much as I enjoyed it, I couldn't help but worry that something might be wrong with this pregnancy.   Plus, with my first pregnancy, my doctor told me the sicker I was, the healthier the baby.  I just couldn't fathom being pregnant and feeling great.   

It didn't take long, though, for the sickness to set in.  I noticed a little last week, that I wasn't feeling as great.  But, by Saturday afternoon, it was full fledged sickness.  Since we were at the MSU ballgame, I was distracted from feeling bad.  But the last few days have not been good.  

I haven't actually been sick, like vomiting or anything, yet... But, oh my goodness, I have been nauseas.  It is like having a constant hangover, without the fun before.  There are moments when I just want to curl up in the fetal position and cry.

And, whoever said that food taste better when you are pregnant didn't experience pregnancy quite like this!  The thought of certain foods sounds good, but when I actually get the food, I can't eat it.  Just the smell makes my stomach do flips.  Just the thought of some foods makes me sick... Remember my post about the hot dogs that were so good? Well, just typing that sentence just made me dry-heave.  And the thought of chicken... ugh!  I don't think I ever fully recovered from my aversion to chicken while pregnant with Emma... 

You see, when I was pregnant with Emma, I taught at a school that is in a town with LOTS of chicken farms.  I would dry-heave all the way to school every single morning and all the way home in the afternoon.  And, on mornings that were foggy or really damp, the smell was that much worse.  And, if that wasn't enough, I usually got behind a chicken truck and had to witness these poor, nasty creatures falling out and getting smashed in the road.  Needless to say, I am not much of a chicken fan these days.

Anyway, with Emma, I was sick until I was well past the 24 week mark.  That is over half way through the pregnancy!  And, that means I possibly have 18 plus weeks to go.  UGH!!!  Seriously, how am I going to keep up with Emma when I feel so bad!?!?!  My friends that have had their second child tell me that you just push through the sickness and tiredness.  They say that deep down you know that you don't have any other option but to get through it, so you do.  I hope they're right!

Say a prayer that the sickness subsides soon rather than later!  And say a prayer for a healthy pregnancy.  My first appointment is the 16th, so just 9 days away.  I can't wait!  

Reflections

As you may have read here, my baby sister recently got engaged and is getting married!  I honestly couldn't be happier for her or her fiancé.

With all of this happiness and excitement comes the realization that my baby sister isn't a baby any more.  Seriously, when did that happen?  But, anyway, with all of this news I have been thinking about what it means to be a sister.

And though Dictionary.com has a point with it's definition, a female offspring having both parents in common with another offspring: female sibling. that just doesn't really seem to do it for me.

You see, for me...at the age of five, when my sister was born... having a sister meant having a real live baby doll.  She was everything my baby dolls were and more.  She was warm and soft and she reacted to me.  She smelled sweeter than any baby doll ever could.  And, every chance I got, I tried to step in and be her mama.

As I got a little older, and so did she... my sister was still like my living, breathing doll.  I dressed her up; I fed her concoctions of pickles, peanut butter and yogurt.... which surprisingly she ate; I 'taught' her school, and dance.  She was a little sponge that was soaking up all of my attention and loving it, while all the time, I saw it as me being the one having all the fun.

Time kept passing, though, and age differences, puberty, boys, and middle school friends made my baby sister seem more like a pain than the joy that she used to be.  This little girl who would do anything for me, who I begged for her to be able to sleep in my room, was now the very little girl that I wished would just go away and leave me alone.  Not because I didn't love her, because that is just something that happens sometimes.

And, though we didn't have the same type of relationship we once did, she was still my baby sister.  I would still hurt anyone who even thought of hurting her.  I dared anyone to mess with her.  She was growing up and getting into the same type of things I now liked.  And, I didn't want to admit it, but when she chose things that we like the things I liked, I would just beam inside.  And, I probably gave her a hard time for wanting to be just like me, but in reality, I loved it.

Even still, with each passing day, our relationship changes.  However, the changes in it are quite subtle and don't entail a screaming match.  I have watched her over the past years as she has grown and changed and become the woman she is today.  I wonder how my life would have been different without her to experience it with.  I wonder if I would be as good of a friend if I hadn't had this friendship throughout my life.  I wonder how things might have been different if she had been the big sister.  And, though, I wonder these things, I am glad that I don't have the answers.  Having the answers would mean changing my life, my relationship with her and that isn't something that I would ever want.

Being a big sister meant, and still means, having responsibility to a younger sibling.  For me, it was such a fun and loving experience, even though there were times that I couldn't see that.  And as I look back, and then forward to my baby sister's wedding, to another change in the dynamic of our relationship, I think about my daughter, Emma, and the kind of sister that she will be.

Will she want to be called "Little Mama" like I did?  Will a new sibling, to her, just be someone to vie for my attention?  She currently loves baby dolls... will a baby sibling be like a real live baby doll to her?  Will she hide a new siblings' paci and diaper?  Will she kick his or her crib?  Or, will she shower a new sibling with kisses and want to be apart of every single second of his or her life?

I don't know... yet.  But, I am looking forward to finding out. Soon.  Like, in a little over thirty weeks, soon!  Yep.  You read that right.  In a little over thirty weeks Emma will be a big sister!  Chuck and I are so excited for the newest member of our family to make his or her debut!  And, we are hoping that Emma will be as excited about a new baby as we are!