I would wake up over and over if it were always like this

Last night we attempted, for the first time, to establish a bedtime routine for Miss Lucy.  Up until now, Lucy has set the schedule for the day - when she eats, when she sleeps, when she plays.  And that was fine seeing as how she was an itty bitty in need of learning how to function in the outside world.  But now that we're halfway through my maternity leave (OMG!), it's time to start trying to put together something that's slightly more consistent.

So last night I gave her a warm bath, dressed her in her jammies and handed her to Adam for a bottle.  Afterwards a drowsy baby was swaddled and put into her crib for the first time (at night) and lulled to sleep by the sounds of the Baby Einstein aquarium.  And she slept.  For 6+ hours.  By the time she woke up I was slumbering away so Adam was the one to do the middle of the night feeding and apparently she had a hard time going back to sleep and was up for 3+ hours before going back to bed in her crib.

Which is where I found her in the morning.  At 10:15.  I heard her stirring (I woke up before my baby!) so I went into her room, peered over her crib, and was rewarded with some huge smiles!  Lucy looked up at me with her eyes wide open and gummy smiles as if to say "Hey Mom!  I'm so glad you're here!"  I melted right then and there.

She's growing so fast!  We're connecting more each day and it's awesome.  I'm already dreading going back to work.

How far we've come

Yesterday I found myself at the doctor's office.  11 days postpartum and all was not well with the lady bits.  The equation is simple.  Epidural + catheter = urinary tract infection.  Awesome.  However, that's neither here nor there.  I was unable to get in with my doctor but when I caught a glimpse of him down the hall, I found myself seized with an odd sense of affection for the man.  I wasn't expecting it and it took me awhile to put my finger on it.

He delivered my baby girl.  He cared for us both for 40 long weeks and then safely and uneventfully brought her into the world.  In that single moment, I really truly appreciated all of the wonderful things he does for women and their families everyday.

But that isn't all.

I was thrown back a year plus to sitting in one of those little exam rooms with him.  I'd sit on the table while he poured over my chart trying to determine whether the dosage this cycle was right and what he should prescribe for the next.  Because it still hadn't worked.  I still wasn't pregnant.  On February 17th I sat with him following this ritual we had gone through so many times before.  After talking through my options (if this cycle didn't work, he'd refer me to someone who could do more to help me conceive), he patted my knee, handed me a prescription and said "Come back pregnant.  Don't let me down."  I chuckled but teared up as I left the office.  One month later, I finally got a positive pregnancy test and life as we know it changed.

All of that came flooding back in the mere seconds I saw him down the hall.  And now I wonder whether he realizes what great work he does on a daily basis.

Thanks, Dr. W.

True love

I'm in love with a little someone special.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Every year I do a cheesy post listing all of the things I'm thankful for during this holiday season (and all year long, of course).  In light of my newest blessing, it seemed absolutely necessary to do a list again this year.

(Forgive me for not doing a "omgshe'shereandbeautifulandIlovesherandwanttosharethestoryofherbirth" post yet.  It's coming.)


1. Lucy.  My beautiful, absolutely perfect blessing of a little girl.  Someone for whom I waited years and years to meet and to hold.  I am blessed with every cry, diaper change, snuggle and more.  I love her more every minute of every day.

2. Adam.  The man who takes care of me and now for blessing #1.  The one I giggle with, cry with, and celebrate with.  I didn't think I could love him any more but then I saw him with his daughter and that all changed.

3. Family.  A big catch all for a whole lot of people.  People who love me and mine and who share their lives with us.  I love sharing my life with you.

4. Friends.  I feel so many friendships - new and old - were strengthened this year.  I can't wait to continue the journey.

5. The future.  So much seems possible.  So much more seems exciting.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I haz a sad

I have a sadness I just can't shake.  Family is of the utmost importance to me.  As Adam can attest, I put a lot of energy into maintaining old traditions and starting new ones.  I like to celebrate birthdays and find reasons to get a family together.  There can be official reasons (holidays) or unofficial reasons (Wednesdays).  And part of bringing this sweet baby into the world is to add to our family.  I have so been looking forward to being able to not only love my daughter but to watch other people love her too.  To watch her forge relationships with her grandparents, aunts and uncles, and our friends.  To watch her become her own person and to see how she fits into this big family puzzle.

But I'm sad because it just doesn't feel like any of that right now.

A baby should be welcomed into the world with joy and love and excitement.  I believe that a family should be pulled almost magnetically to that baby to love her and fawn over her and to fold her into their lives so completely.

With her arrival mere days away, I am overcome with sadness that instead, she'll be welcomed and loved by only a portion of her family.  That her father and I will undoubtedly be partially at fault for this though I'm not sure that I am willing to make the sacrifices necessary to change that.

Time heals all wounds, as they say.

OMGWTFBBQ!

An eviction notice has been given.  If I don't go into labor before Sunday, that is the day I will be induced.  Sunday is the due date and at today's appointment, my doctor felt that induction was the route to go.  Lucy still hasn't "dropped" and apparently, in a full-term first time pregnancy, this can possibly hint to a problem.  A problem that she doesn't or won't fit into the birth canal.  We're excited, nervous, happy, scared, freaked out, and ready to roll.

Only 3 more days left of work and then 10ish glorious weeks off.  Hallelujah!

Is that a baby in your belly or are you really, really fat?

We've all heard the stories of women being asked if they are pregnant when they aren't.  We've heard it told from both sides of the story...both of which are accompanied by horror and intense shame.  Sometimes there's laughter and sometimes there's tears.

I have my own such story today.

I would first like to note that no one actually said anything to me directly.  The story was relayed to me second-hand.  And if the roles had been reversed, I never would have shared this story with a pregnant woman.

Apparently the following conversation took place a couple of days ago:

Asshat McDouche: I just saw Kris and she has gained so much weight, she looks pregnant!!!


Stunned woman #1: She is.  She's going on maternity leave in like, a week.


Asshat McDouche: Oh!


Story teller: *uncontrollable fit of giggles*


WTF?  Seriously?  I look pregnant so you assume I'm really, really fat???  It never occurs to you that I might actually be pregnant?

I feel so damn pretty today.

Just waiting

The due date is fast approaching and I'm just sitting here twiddling my thumbs.

No, really.

I had this ingenious idea to work up until the birth so I wouldn't burn any of that leave time before getting to spend it with my blue-eyed beauty.  She better be blue-eyed, otherwise I have some explaining to do.

So here I sit, in my cubicle, on a Friday afternoon.  There are 3 emails in my in box and one of those is an invitation to save 30% from Gap and Old Navy.  My to do list is nearly a page long and only 4 of those things don't have a check mark next to them.  I've started drafting my 2011 goals and professional development plan but my hearts not in it.  Probably because I'd like to finish my 2010 goals first.  You know...like 'have a baby.'

Next week my calendar is blocked as out of the office per the direction of my boss.  I keep staring at it - half with glee (ohdeargodtherearepracticallynomeetingsonthatcalendar!) and half with dread.  If there are no meetings, and there is no baby, then what the hell am I going to do with myself all week?

I made myself giggle this morning.  I attempted to make a fist, couldn't because of the swelling, and then thought of the phrase "knuckle sandwich."  *sigh*

My desk is clean already so that won't keep me busy next week.  I've already hauled everything home that needs to be there during my leave.  Although, I'm staring at the dress shoes under my desk and wondering if I'll need or want them while I'm out.  I haven't worn heels since I was about 15 minutes pregnant.  I don't think I'll jump right back on that bandwagon.

I'm making a mental note as I look at the picture frames on my desk.  I better come back with an updated one of Dante (oops....I think this one is at least 3 years old) and some of the blue-eyed beauty.

This morning, I drafted my IRB (Institutional Review Board) paperwork for my dissertation and sent it to my mentor.  You know you're hard up for stuff to do when you start filing paperwork related to your dissertation research.

Look at that.  I just burned 10 minutes.  If only it were lunchtime now.

A pointless post about our trip to the movies

Friday night, Adam and I headed out to see a movie.  We went to the new theater here in St. Louis Park which has reserved seating.  You pick your seats when you buy your tickets and then if you order food (could just be a pretzel or actual meal) they take your seat number and deliver it to you when it's ready.

I'm not a big fan of the reserved seating idea but it is kind of nice to be able to nab the seats you prefer and still hit the concession stand and bathroom.

After doing all of these things, we head to our seats and there are two people sitting in them.  This is awkward.  I've now walked past numerous people forcing them to move their legs and whatnot to let me by.  I'm annoyed by someone being seated there but I guess I'd be willing to sit somewhere else if A) I hadn't already made people move and B) I would know I wasn't going to go sit in a seat that someone had already reserved and therefore starting a crazy domino of seat moving.  So I mention to these people that we have these seats.  So they move down one seat.  But actually, we have BOTH seats so we'd need you to move down another one.  And then there are jokes about how it doesn't matter.  So I start to feel like an ass.  Because I agree, it doesn't really.  Except that the theater has forced it to matter!

The couple in our seats has food coming so they need to be in the right seats.  So she pulls out her ticket and sure enough, she's supposed to be a few rows down.  But they don't like those so they go somewhere else.  This is all fine but I was annoyed that their disregard for how the theater worked was impacting me.

People bug me.

36 weeks

Most people look at me like I'm nuts when I tell them how many weeks pregnant I am.  Even my Mom doesn't get it and there are signs that she's been pregnant before.  So, just to level-set here (in the words of my boss), let me say that there are 40 weeks in a pregnancy.  At 37 weeks, a baby is full-term and a healthy baby will be born anywhere between 37 and 42 weeks.

I'm 36 weeks people.  4 weeks until my due date.  1 week until Lucy is full-term.

Last night Adam and I went to a Halloween party.  We went as the particularly klassy pair of a priest and pregnant nun.  It was a hit.  One woman...who by the way never introduced herself...got SO excited when she found out I was pregnant that she proceeded to molest my belly and tell me all the advice she could muster about child birth and the first few years of childhood.

Today my boys are out enjoying a Dad and Dante date and I'm curled up on the couch with the puppies watching Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium.  Eventually I'll motivate on my list but until then, I'm enjoying the relaxed bliss of a quiet Sunday afternoon with my fur-boys.

Things are going to change in the not-too-distant future and I'm excited!  There's a little person missing from from this little family and we're just waiting for her to get here.  My hope is that Adam and I can enjoy all of the changes and at the same time, not become douchetastic full-time parents.

Here's hopin'!

(Seriously, how random was this blog?!)

I'm impatient

I want to meet my baby girl.  She's almost done baking and I'm totally over work and the like.  Tis time.

I felt the need to share this with you.

Lucy's story, part 1

Dear Lucy,

Your story begins long before your birthday. In fact, it begins back in December of 2008 when your Dad and I decided we were ready for you. It took you awhile but on March 15, 2009 we got the word you were on your way.

From the moment we learned of your impending arrival, your Dad and I spent hours planning and preparing. We started to talk about what to name you and how to teach you. We talked about how your brother, Dante, would love you and take care of you. And we wondered about what your relationship would be with our four-legged family members, Zeus and Tuck.

We began to tell others that you were coming. We told Nana and Poppa Petrie, Nana and Papa Luopa, and your aunts and uncles. Everyone was so excited!

In the early weeks of my pregnancy, I wavered between feeling great and feeling nauseous. We played things by ear and did what we could, when we could do it. Not many people knew yet so it was a little weird trying to keep things a secret. Every week brought us closer to meeting you but your Dad and I aren’t very patient. We were so excited to meet you! Your Dad gobbled up books and information relative to what you’d be like in your first year. Every day he would regale me with interesting facts of things we had to look forward to. And boy were we looking forward to it!

On April 9^th we had our first appointment and ultrasound and we got to see you on TV! You were just a little blob then but you had an amazingly small beating heart at an impressive 143 bpm. You were about the size of a blueberry! Your Dad and I were holding hands and wiping our eyes as we stared at the screen.

You continued to grow while I continued to live in a bit of fear. The first trimester is a scary one and so many babies don’t make it. I suddenly knew what it was to be a Mom because I worried about you. I couldn’t feel you yet so I had to trust that you were ok in there.

At 12 weeks, we were able to see you again. We were having another ultrasound…this time to peek at you, take some measurements, and see if there were any issues for which we needed to be prepared. You looked like a baby! You kept falling asleep so the ultrasound tech kept telling me to cough in hopes of waking you up so you would change positions. It worked once or twice but all you would do was slide down and kick the wall and then slide back down again. We had to wait while you took your cat nap and your Dad and I had no complaints as we watched you sleep. You were given a clean bill of health and we continued to count our blessings!

It was at this point that we spilled the beans to everyone we knew. Emails flew as we told aunts, uncles, and cousins and we received lots of well wishes via Facebook. I can’t help but wonder if when you read this, you’ll have any idea what Facebook is. I told my boss and my coworkers and everyone was so excited!

18 weeks in and we had our anatomy scan. This was an ultrasound we were particularly excited for! We were going to find out if you were a little boy or a little girl. Everyone was anxious to hear except for your Poppa Petrie. He wanted it to be a secret until you were born. We tried but he found out less than 24 hours later. Oops! Blame Nana. Again you received a clean bill of health and you demonstrated that you had absolutely no modesty! The ultrasound tech was able to identify your gender just minutes into the ultrasound! After the appointment your Dad and I went shopping to buy a few pink items. Of course, now there are WAY more pink things waiting for your arrival.

We thought this was our last glimpse of you until you made your appearance which made us both very sad. We could look at you for hours. But it was right around this time when I started to feel movements…itty bitty twinges. I enjoyed those a TON! It was our own special language.

In July we loaded up the car and headed down to Des Moines for a Petrie Family reunion. During that weekend, a surprise shower was thrown in your honor! All of your cousins (second or third, I have no idea) gave you books and all of your great aunts and uncles and your adult cousins (second or third, I have no idea) gave you a gift card. You’ll come home from the hospital in the car seat they bought you. They were all so excited for us and for you and we were so lucky to have that special time.

Sometime in August your Dad and I were laying in bed and chatting about whatever came to mind (as this is something we do quite frequently) and your Dad’s hand was on my stomach. I’ll never in all of my life forget the look on his face when you kicked his hand, every so lightly. He looked up at me with eyes as big as saucers and a grin a mile wide and asked me if that was you. And we sat there smiling and giggling, and tearing up for what felt like ages as we tried to prod you to do it again (you didn’t). Since then you have graced us both with many a kick, jab, and full body roll. In fact, you’re giving me a beating right now as I type.

At 24 weeks we got one last look because the doctor wanted a better picture of your face. And we happily obliged.

And then, on one beautiful Saturday morning in August, your Aunt Kari called me and we found out that you were going to have a cousin! Just 5 months apart!

On September 24^th, you gave us a scare. I hadn’t felt you move in awhile so I had some caffeine, ate some dinner, and laid down. Nothing. Your Dad came in and tried talking to you and giving you Reiki. Still nothing. So your Dad called Labor and Delivery and those nurses told us to come in immediately and they would take a look at things. I was sobbing as I got ready to go. I was so worried about you! I hate(d) not having you where I could see you and know you were ok. Your Dad drove to the hospital like a bat out of hell and you still didn’t move. You know how this story ends. The nurse called you a brat and I grounded you the minute you came out. The minute they put that monitor on my belly we heard the most beautiful sound in the world; your heartbeat. You scurried around in there trying to get away from it but by then your Dad was breathing again and I was smiling. All was well with our little girl.

All in one week, we had 2 showers in your honor. First there was a shower at my work where my coworkers spoiled you rotten. Lots of clothes, gift cards, and fun stuff just for you. Later in the week, your Aunt Kari and Uncle Eli through a shower with our families where they showered you with gifts. We enjoyed so much getting to celebrate your impending arrival with your grandparents, aunts and uncles, and other family.

We are now counting the days until your arrival. I am wrapping up projects at work and packing our hospital bags. This weekend we’ll continue to spend our time readying the house for you. In these final weeks, my belly is growing exponentially, I’m getting less and less sleep, and my pelvis feels like it’s snapping in half. I can’t wait to meet you!

There’s more of your story to come and I can’t wait to be a part of it. To be continued.

Love,
Mommy

About that whole miserable thing...

The closer we get to meeting Lucy, the more and more often I'm asked "How are you feeling?" What's interesting about this is that in the beginning, people would ask this question with a hint of excitement about this little person I'm growing. Now in my third trimester, people ask this with pity and a smirk. They not only expect me to be miserable but some of them even seem to want me to be. Last weekend in fact, my aunt called me her "grumpy niece" because I'm 8 months pregnant. Not because of my disposition.

But here's the thing peeps. I love being pregnant.

It's not all moonlight and roses (and Adam will be the first to remind me that I do, in fact, complain on occassion) but I really, really like it. It's everything I expected and a bunch of stuff I didn't. I enjoy feeling her move around in there and snuggle in for the night. I like trying to guess what she's doing in there and then telling Adam "stories" about those activities. I like preparing our home and our lives for this additional person. I just love being pregnant.

I wanted to put this out there because I think it's the one thing I want to remember most about pregnancy...the thing I want to be sure to tell Lucy. But at some point I should probably write those blogs about childbirth class, our impromptu trip to labor and delivery, and finishing the nursery.

This is a story about a fetus....read if you dare

I've actually tried to avoid too many oh-my-gawd-I'm-pregnant-and-have-to-share-everything stories. No one wants overkill on those. But this little gem still makes me smile and I wanted to share it.

The other night we had the A/C off and the windows wide open and it was soooo nice. Well, the drawback to windows being open is that Zeus can hear every little noise and some he doesn’t like. So he hears something that makes him jump up out of a dead sleep and let out one really fierce big dog bark. I jump (because really, I wasn’t expecting it) and Lucy SPAZZES out! She flipped all over and all I could imagine was her in there with her arms and legs splayed out and braced against my insides. I started laughing hysterically and poor Adam was sad he didn’t feel it too.

The next time Zeus barked , Adam flew across the couch to touch my stomach but apparently she’s already old hat at barking dogs because she kept sleeping.

She makes me smile already. :)

Much ado about high school

There are a series of articles, books, TV shows and movies out there that portray high school as hell on earth (usually in the form of bad acting). And every time I come across this stereotype I have to laugh. I did not have the horrible high school experience everyone else seems to have had. And no, I wasn't Miss Popularity. I was overweight back then (though, much less so than I am today). I wasn't a jock - in fact, I was a choir/musical "nerd." I hung out with the ROTC kids (if that's not a label for nerdom, I don't know what is). I never spent a ton of time on my appearance for an average day at school and I didn't have a ton of boyfriends.

But I was never a social pariah.

I had my group of friends and we did our own little thing. No one bothered us and we didn't notice anyone else. I don't know. I think junior high was hell on earth but that's another post (having much to do with the fact that I had major boobage long before most of my classmates).

I have hopes that Dante and Lucy have a similar experience to mine. "Normal"- whatever that is. Not hell on earth. Just....fine.

So I want to hear from you. Do you have high school horror stories?

Mild panic episode

I once heard someone say, "It's like that moment when you realize your pregnancy is going to result in an actual human being." I laughed. Because I knew I hadn't yet hit that point. Despite the nursery and the furniture; despite the kicks and indigestion; despite all of that, it wasn't quite real. Until the other night.

As I was curled up in bed drifting off to sleep, I was suddenly seized with fear and disbelief. My eyes flew open and there was one glaring thought in my mind. MY GOD, I'M PREGNANT! Last night on our way home from grabbing some dinner, I looked at Adam and quite emphatically reminded him that there was a PERSON inside of me. It went something like this.

There's a PERSON inside of me.

*laughter*

No really, a PERSON!

Not really a person. I mean, she's not done baking yet.

SHE KICKS ME, PEES IN ME, AND IS FEEDING OFF ME!

*laughter*

See, he doesn't get it. I don't know how to make him get it. But people, there's a PERSON inside of me. And she's coming out. In 15ish weeks. Which is like, no time from now. And then I'll be responsible for her. She'll depend on me for everything. If I'm not good at it, she could die!

Just some random thoughts from Casa de Luopa.

In search of faith

I've been wanting to write this blog for awhile and I'm finally going to sit down and do it. It's not going to come out as eloquent or clear as it is in my head but so be it. I'm pretty sure you'll be able to follow me, regardless.

We're having a baby.

What? You didn't know?

Anyway, we're having a baby. And a lot of plans go into that. We're planning tangible things like the color of her bedroom walls, the car seat and stroller combo, and of course we've debated the merits of dressers versus changing tables. All of these things have been fun, exciting, and pretty darn easy when your husband says "You pick it, I'll do it."

But then there are harder things to plan. The less tangible. For example, how will we handle it when she realizes she and Dante have different mommy's? Or, that eternal debate over whether or not babies can and should be held often. But those are still pretty easy. Because we have to figure it out for ourselves and do what's right for Lucy. Okay, cool. We're on a roll, right.

Well, we hit a bit of a snag when we started talking baptism. And it's not even the snag you would expect. Adam and I have complimentary but different belief systems. We both believe in God. I believe in Jesus, he doesn't. I can get behind organized religion, he can't. But when all is said and done, we both believe in treating people right, loving one another, and worshiping one true God (or Gusby, as the case may be). Cool. Only, that wasn't the issue. While he doesn't think baptism really does anything, he was supportive that this was something I wanted to do. It certainly isn't going to hurt her so we were going to do it. I haven't steadily attended church since high school (a fact of which I alternate between ashamed and indifferent). But, I have that special minister in my life that really connected with me and made faith real. PJ, Bubba, John, etc. And PJ was the one to confirm me in high school, marry my husband and I 7+ years ago, marry my sister and BIL 2 years ago and so on. Seemed only fitting that he should baptize our first born.

When I started to really fear that I'd never get pregnant; when I felt like my optimism was waning; when I felt like we might need to take more drastic measures, I did the only thing I could think of. I went back to church. It just so happened PJ was at a church about 10 minutes from our home and so it seemed only logical to go there. I began attending every week, tithing, and saying daily prayers. I was asking for help. I was asking for guidance. I was asking for the little girl who is kicking me as I write this. And then, He replied. And on one evening in March, there were two pink lines and we "magically" (re: clomid, timed intercourse, temperature shift, OPKs) became parents. Never in my life has God so unequivocally and abundantly answered my prayers.

So earlier this summer I heard some alarming news. I heard that the church I had been attending had voted to leave the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church of America) due to their highly publicized stance on gay ministers. This can't possibly be true, I thought! While the ELCA's vote was a step in the right direction, there is more work to be done! Surely everyone sees that! But alas, not everyone does. And I confirmed that Calvary Lutheran had elected to leave the ELCA.

I was devastated. I was overcome with questions and concerns about my faith, my church, and my place in the faith of Christianity. I truly understood why so many in my generation call themselves "spiritual, not religious." Because now I felt like I had been unceremoniously dumped into that category. I started to wrestle with the implications of this. What about the baptism? Am I supporting that decision if I baptize my daughter there? What choices do I have? And so, I reached out to PJ. I don't know what I expected except to sit down and try to understand what the issue was. A week ago, we had lunch. I'm not going to bore you with the details (this may already be my longest blog ever) but what I found out during that lunch did nothing but disgust me. PJ, as an individual minister, also chose to leave the ELCA. Calvary considers itself an independent Lutheran church (whatever that means). While PJ described this decision as stemming from a slew of issues with the ELCA, he could not deny that the decision to allow gay ministers was one with which he and the church disagreed. He told us (Adam was there) that homosexuality is "wrong" and that it says so in "seven places" in the Bible (no, I didn't ask for citations). He referred back to a man who sung at Adam's and my wedding. A man who was quite active in the church when I was a wee kid and to whom I've always felt a strong connection. He said that Steve was having a hard time in his life these days and it was because of the decisions he had made. Because he was gay.

Appalled.

Disgusted.

Horrified.

Just some examples of how I felt that day.

This blog is not meant as a roast of a particular individual or a particular church. It's about my struggle with my faith. And PJ referred me to a church in our neighborhood who would "embrace this issue" with me. And I'm going to check it out. Because I still want my daughter to be baptized. In my faith, for what I believe, for what I know in my heart God believes, it will be good.

So yay you if you actually read all of this. My head is still swimming and if I allow myself to follow the current, I am left sad, broken, and lost. And what is so interesting to me is that despite all of these things, I am not alone. For He is with me.

Surprise!

Home again, home again. This weekend we packed up and shipped off to Des Moines, IA for a Petrie Family Reunion. The KC relatives and the Minneapolis relatives met at the midway point for a weekend of food, fun, and sun. This weekend has been in the planning since last fall so it was fun to finally get together.

Now that there's a new generation to the family, we enjoyed having seven kiddos under the age of 5 to entertain us. They were SO well behaved and fun to watch and hang out with. Adam and I got even more excited for Lucy's upcoming arrival!

Speaking of Lucy, my fabulous family took the time to throw us a surprise baby shower on Saturday night. Since I'm terrible with taking pictures (can you tell from my all text blog posts?), you're stuck with the three pics I had on my cell phone. What a treat! We are so blessed!

4th of July!

Yesterday I became a Great Aunt. Jasmine gave birth to her son, Dwayne Evontrey. Honestly I don't know how to spell that atrocity of a middle name but we'll just go with it. I made the trip up to North Memorial last night because I felt bad. She is 16 and has no one. I didn't plan to go but she appealed to the softy in me. He's cute but I couldn't help but look at him and think of the hardships he'll face in life. Being born to a 16 year old with the baggage Jasmine has can't make for a peaceful, well adjusted life. Say a prayer if you do that sort of thing.

About 20 miles away, just 30 minutes prior to Dwayne's arrival, my cousin Scott and his wife Nikki welcomed their daughter into the world. Liliana (Lily) Amanda was also born on independence day.

It was a big baby day yesterday! Mom's and babies are all doing well. I haven't met Lily yet but am sure I will soon.

Other than that excitement, Adam and I spent the day on the couch, chilling out and watching movies. Lazy? Yes. Incredibly magnificent? Yes.

Next weekend is family reunion weekend! YAY Petrie's!

I am an emotional wreck

Dear Lord, the mood swings. I am out of control. Sometimes I'm amazed Adam hasn't committed me yet and equally surprised I haven't committed myself. Things that mildly annoyed me before are sending me off the deep end now. Sometimes it is rage and other times it is intense sorrow. Of course there is annoyance, bafflement, and general bewilderment thrown in there as well. I haven't noticed a huge up swing in the positive moods but they're there. They just don't feel as manic I guess.

Tonight the kids (Dante and Sophia) were playing, the dogs were wrestling, and Adam was getting ready to paint. This is a very small house people!!! It was a torrential downpour outside complete with hail and tornado watches so I couldn't very well escape or kick people out. So I did the next best thing. I gave myself a time out. I'm relatively confident that there are 5 other living souls right now simply because of that decision.

I know this is pregnancy. I know this is the less enjoyable part of carrying my daughter (I'm not quite used to that yet). But man, a reprieve would be swell.

* No humans or animals were harmed in the writing of this post.

It's a girl!

Today we heard the news. Baby Luopa is a GIRL! Everything looked perfect during the ultrasound though they weren't able to get as good of pictures as they'd like of the spine and nose/lips area. We'll have another quick ultrasound in 6 weeks.

After the appointment, we had lunch and did some shopping. Lots of pink!

We're thrilled and excited to meet Lucy Rae this November!

Baby Luopa shall now be known as...

Psyyyyyyych! Yeah, I have no idea. Not yet. But tomorrow morning, we go in for our anatomy scan and as long as BL is cooperating, we should be able to find out the gender. We're pretty excited as neither of us has any patience. We're split on our guesses - I think it's a boy and Adam thinks it's a girl. For fun, we've tried the old wives tales and they're largely pointing to girl. So we shall see.

While we do hope for a girl (we already have our boy), we quite obviously only want a healthy, perfect little baby. As I said in my previous post, I worry. I'm already worried about the health, well-being, and overall happiness and that's what I want to see on the screen tomorrow. A beautiful heartbeat, flailing arms and legs, and a money shot if BL is so inclined.

Stay tuned.

On becoming a mother

It's been awhile. Too long. It's just that I've been spending this time really thinking about how life is changing little by little each day and how much I'm learning along the way. Seven years ago Adam and I tied the knot and on that day I didn't just become a wife, I became a mother. A stepmother to be exact. And for these many years I have tried to instill traditions into our little family; take pictures to capture a moment in time (although I'm terrible at this); and to really make Dante feel like this is home. And over time, I have become pretty confidant that somewhere along the line, I morphed from step mom to just plain old mom.

But that's not true.

If BL has taught me anything, it's that I haven't been a mother at all. I'm 17 weeks pregnant with a 5", 5 oz little someone who doesn't yet have a gender, let alone a name. And I'm just learning what it means to be a mother. I'm starting to study health insurance plans and various savings plans. I'm trying to figure out how in the world I'm going to pay for college in 18 years...and braces, and hobbies, and broken somethings until then. I worry. I worry that I should be doing more to make sure he/she turns out perfect. I worry that I won't be a good mom. I worry that once BL is here, Dante won't want to be.

Because Dante's at that age now. This isn't his home. His friends aren't here, he's not really into toys anymore, and the weather is making it hard for him and his Dad to go outside and play catch or do manly things. We were so lucky to have him for a week and yet now he's decided to go home. Because that's not here. And here is not where he wants to be.

And my heart breaks. Because this isn't how I pictured it. And I know that life isn't always going to go the way you want it to. But this wasn't supposed to be baby #1. This wasn't Adam and I starting our family. This was a continuation. A bonus. A really wonderful something that would happen to three of us. But the farther I get into this pregnancy, the more I accept Dante is growing up, I come to realize that this really is a case of "...and baby makes 3!"

I wish I could be more upbeat about this but right now, I'm not really sure how all of these differently shaped, sized and colored pieces fit together. I thought I had a soon-to-be-complete puzzle but now I wonder if I even have all of the right pieces. Maybe I've never been a mom before. Maybe I'm just a step mom. Right now I don't just feel bad that I'm just a step mom but because I haven't even been good at that.

Hmm, it's been awhile...

I thought I would blog more once I wasn't a closet baby maker but alas, no such luck I guess. Adam and I have been on an emotional high for a few months now as we anxiously await meeting Baby Luopa (heretofore referred to as BL).

I have made the "To Do List of Doom" for Adam. It's an exhaustive list of everything I want done before BL arrives. But not too exhaustive. Because I reserve the right to add to it as I see fit. But it includes painting walls and woodwork in virtually every room in the house, building and installing shelves, organizing basements and garages, and last - but certainly not least - the nursery.

We're already full blast into summer. Dante's playing baseball and getting better and better at batting, catching, and throwing. Adam is really enjoying going outside and throwing the ball around with him. I'm getting excited for more opportunities to grill and sit out on the deck. I love swimming and hope to do a little of that this summer too.

I am slowly but surely making progress on the dissertation and was able to submit edits last week. There's some serious motivation to get the mofo done by the end of the summer!

I hope to see more of you as we move into summer. It's been too long...and you know who you are.

My Mama

In honor of Mother's Day, I thought it fitting to showcase my Mom and some of my fondest memories of her. I consider myself very lucky to call her my Mom. She has taught me how to be a strong, successful woman but at the same time, how to laugh at myself (usually because she was the one laughing at me). So without any further ado, and in no particular order, I present a few snapshots in words of my Mom:

1. Opening night of the fall musical my freshman year of high school. I, showcasing my inherent grace, fell on stage - front and center. All I can hear as I quickly get up is my Mom laughing.

2. Numerous dance recitals and dance competitions over the years where she would sit in the stands and work until I came out on stage and she would watch with undivided attention until my dance was over. Or how we would quietly mock the other Mom's and kids as the Mom's held out tights for their 13 year olds to step into.

3. The way we fought because of that guy I thought I was in love with freshman year who was a few too many years my senior.

4. The day I got my license she let me drive off to my BFFs house. When I called home to let her know I was leaving but would be a few minutes late, she grounded me from the car for a week. (Still the only parenting decision she made that I vehemently disagree with).

5. The two of us getting me into my dress and ready to leave for pictures on my wedding day. Neither one of us cried until my very sentimental cousin entered the room and started crying.

6. 5th grade and I have a book report the next day. I had procrastinated and it needed to be typed. So I would write a page and then run it downstairs to her to type up while I wrote another.

7. My first job (a cashier at Cub) required me to ride a bike to work but oftentimes my shift would end way too late to be biking home. Mom would drop a car off and ride the bike home.

8. Saturday after Saturday for 2 years Mom and I would meet at WW and support each other through the loss of many, many pounds.

9. The musical my junior year required my Mom to make me a costume in one night. She did it (and by the way, I remember all of the grumbling and annoyance that accompanied it) and I was able to wear it the next day for pictures (none of which I was in).

10. Fun runs growing up (I always hated them) and my first, and only, 5K on last years Mother's Day. She was thrilled. I still hate running.

The dance recitals/competitions, choir concerts, musicals, church performances, and various other things that a kid drags a mother to are what make up my memories of my Mom. She always put me first and made my stuff feel important. I hope I can do the same to my little.

Love you Mom. Happy Mother's Day!

What is Joy?

Here's the thing. I've learned something over the past few months. I've learned that happiness and joy come in predictable and surprising packages. In my last post, I celebrated spring and I am still enjoying that blessing. Today was an absolutely exquisite 73 degrees in MN...in April! The sky was blue, the air was still, and the sun shone down brightening up every tucked away corner.

But I have found other sources of joy. I see pure joy in Dante's smile when he makes a joke at his Dad's expense. I see happiness in the way my neighbors are mowing their lawns and planting their gardens. I witness happiness in my coworkers when something finally clicks into place; when their project takes off.

And I see joy in my husbands face, when we talk about our new baby who is on the way.

Because joy can be found in two pink lines.

Baby Luopa
EDD November 25, 2010

Hello? Anybody there?

I admit that I went oh so long without updating the blog but truly, I had nothing of interest to say. The dead of winter does things to me and most of it isn't pretty. I get up, stumble into work, do my thing, and come home to curl up on the couch and watch movies or bad tv. I can't get myself to be overly productive or exciting and the blog suffers. There's just nothing to say you know?

So I'm going to try to do better...if anyone is still out there reading.

Productivity. BOOYA!

What's better than a boring post about what I did today? Probably everything but the boring post is all I've got.

Today I spent my time: mowing, vacuuming, scrubbing, dusting, organizing, shining, sweeping, and laundering. Tonight I have my feet up and am giving my lower back a rest as I bask in the thrill of my happy place.

Oh, and today commences the month of me. You can start sending gifts now.

*smoochies*

I had a dream...

...of the most perfectest day ever.

It was magical.

Last night I dreamed that I woke up to Adam giving me the most perfect day ever. I don't know where it came from but it has already provided me with numerous smiles and one fit of giggles today.

In the dream, I woke up and came out of the bedroom to find presents as far as the eye could see. They were all shapes and sizes; wrapped in Christmas paper, birthday paper, general paper; and topped with perfect, squiggly ribbon. They were allllllll for me. (C'mon, who doesn't love presents?) I proceeded to open just one tiny gift and inside was a Banana Strawberry Lip Smacker! For some reason, this was incredibly exciting!

I then looked into the corner to see that he had set up the Christmas tree (I <3 Christmas). Except, he had only set up the bottom section of the tree. Even though it wasn't complete, I thought it was beautiful.

Finally, he topped it all off with making me all of my favorite foods. There was cake (duh!), ice cream, candy, and maybe even some non-sugary foods. Heaven.

As fabulous as that day would be, it's probably better as a dream because I'm still smiling. :)

Spring!

Ah spring!

Take a deep breath.

::inhale::

::exhale::

Do you smell it? It's rebirth.

The sun is shining, the snow is gone, and the grass has the slightest green tint to it. You find that you leave the house and forget to grab a jacket. Maybe you're sleeping less. Maybe you're eating less. Maybe your general mood has improved and you're beginning to see opportunity and excitement in the most unlikely places.

What a gift.

I treasure this time of year. Maybe it has to do with my birthday (wink) but I think it has a lot more to do with the freshness in the air and the sun on my face. I love the feeling of newness and anticipation and this is what spring is to me. Anticipation of summer bonfires, scorching heat, and many more hours in the day.

Happy spring!!!

The roles we play

Have you ever thought much about how who we are is dependent on who we're with? I am a wife, a stepmother, a daughter, a sister. I am a co-worker and a team leader. I am a niece, an aunt, a granddaughter, a cousin, and a friend. And I can be most of these things in one day. And usually I can glide seamlessly between and among them without a thought. But then there are those rare days when it's hard to just be Me.

So what does this mean? Who sees the "true me"? Well that's the beauty of this. Everyone does because I'm multi-faceted and have different sides to my personality. Just because I get giggly with my friends and I talk about work and the dissertation with my family doesn't mean that either of those things are false. It's what makes me (and you) a complex individual capable of different depths, ideas, and characteristics.

Let's add more complexity to this. Your friends could think your great, your family can love you, but your coworkers could think that you need to get your head out of your ass. How is that possible? If you're great to some, can't you be great to all? Well no, you can't. And maybe that's a good thing. It keeps us honest and always striving for better.

For those of you who get overwhelmed with the different roles you play, remember this. You are great one way or another.

My answer is still "yes"

Tomorrow is a special day in the Luopa household. Yesterday couples the world over (or those made up of high school students anyway) celebrated the international day of love while we treated it like any other day. But tomorrow marks the 8 year anniversary of the day Adam proposed to me. Back on Valentine's Day 2002, Adam went out shopping and came home with the kissing bears from Hallmark (remember those?). I loved them! But apparently he had a little something else up his sleeve. At this point we had been friends for 8 months and officially dating for 3 weeks. Crazy, I know. Two days later, in the mosh pit of a Creed concert, Adam took out the ring during one of my favorite songs. I swooned and said yes. There's a lot more to this story (about how valiantly Adam tried to get on stage in order to propose) but he should tell that story.

Personally, I like the way Sean (Adam's brother) tells it. Sure, we had only been dating 3 weeks officially, but we dated for a long time before that...we just didn't kiss. :)

So on February 16, 2010 I will be enjoying time with my main man. 8 years later, my answer is still yes.

Happy and Hopeful

What makes you happy and hopeful? In the past 4 or 5 weeks, I've rediscovered some of the things that make me happy and hopeful and found some new things to add to the list. In the doldrums of winter it's sometimes hard to see the beauty around us but I've had some incredible experiences since the new year that remind me that they're still out there to see.

One snowy morning I was outside with my dogs watching the snowflakes fall. It was one of those snowfalls where it sticks to the trees and seems to just float from the sky. I closed my eyes, looked up, and felt the snowflakes stick to my eyelashes. It was incredibly peaceful.

While I could write a whole blog (and nearly did) around all of the reasons it sucks to be an adult. But instead of focusing on the negatives, I want to celebrate the little "wins." Sundays are spent gearing up for the coming week. Grocery shopping, laundry, email catch-up (unfortunate but true), and cuddle time. It's a great way to recenter ones self before jumping back into things Monday morning.

Or maybe they're more simplistic:
Realizing that you're not in it alone.
Realizing that you can fight with your husband and it's no big deal...even when you're still a little miffed. :)
Realizing that there's opportunity around every corner...even when you start to think that all opportunities have passed you by.

Or perhaps the best yet...
Realizing that although you haven't seen your friends for ages, that they're still your friends. And you know that when you finally all have time to get together again, you'll be able to pick up where you left off.

Miss you all and hope you find something(s) to be happy and hopeful about!

The Grammar/Punctuation/Spelling Nazi

Perhaps I've written this post before and if so, I apologize. It's just that it is so prevalent in my consciousness that I can't seem to block it out! You know what I'm talking about. You know someone...maybe it's you (but I doubt it)...who either can't or won't spell anything correctly. I've said it before and I'll say it again, but email and text messaging are the downfall of the English language.

It's painful to read. All I want to do is hide you (Facebook) or not respond to you. If you don't put forth the effort, then I have to believe that you don't have much respect for me as the reader of your drivel. Now that we're in our 30's, I don't believe that you honestly think that dropping your g's is cool (e.g., goin). And this is all made more upsetting if you are a teacher...my God...what chance does our younger generation have when YOU are the one teaching them??? And if you're an English teacher? Well, I just need to go lie down.

Here's the thing. I don't expect perfection. Typos, an occasional misspelled word, etc....they are common amongst the most intelligent people. I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about the individuals who think this is a coherent, intelligent sentence:

"feelin a chest cold commin on so powerwalked it this mornin 2 miles."
OR
"Was, all the same who remotely even during real decided to even use would like the volatile view rather making to go you?"

If you care that little about how you present yourself in written word, then knock yourself out. However, I can't help but think you're a tool.

Overwhelmed

I realized today that I am overwhelmed. I know I use the word a lot and it's probably getting old to hear it but this morning was one of those mornings where you are ranting and raving (in your head), running around the house trying to get shit done, and even putting off having to pee because gosh darnit, you have to get the dishwasher emptied!

Odd that a morning such as this should immediately follow the news that I lost 6.6 lbs in one week. AMEN! PRAISE JESUS! But that couldn't carry me through the icy roads, the over-packed grocery store, and the realization that there's a crap ton to do around the house. Upon walking in the door I was a whirlwind of activity. A bazillion trips from the car with groceries, emptying the dishwasher and then filling it again with the dirty dishes that were piled in and around the sink. Piling up of garbage by the front door (which, coincidentally the 10 year old took outside for me without being asked....I suspect my mood was obvious). And why am I so overwhelmed?

Maybe it's the fact that I gained back nearly all 50+ lbs I lost. Sweet. Maybe it's the fact that I'm trying to get this damn proposal done so that I can just take a breather for a minute. Maybe it's because I put too much pressure on myself. Wait. What? Oh yeah, I know I do it. But clearly, I don't have enough goals in life and should really try and find something to work towards. *snort*

So the purpose of this particular missive? Hell if I know. It's an opportunity to vent...to get it all down on "paper" so that I can actually be a joy to be around today. It's something to do since the 10 year old plopped himself on the toilet right when I was going to allow myself the break to pee.

Whatever it is, let's all make a promise to ourselves today...because I know you're guilty of this too. Let's promise to be kind to ourselves; to take a break; to enjoy life. The rest will get done eventually.

Faith

I've started going back to church recently. Back in the day (re: high school) I was very involved in my church. I did a weekly bible study with my peers, was in the church choir, attended services every week, and even participated in "clowning"...an odd form of worship where you dress up as a clown and act it all out. Don't ask. Anyway, back in high school, I planned to go to college for psychology and then find my way to seminary. Off to college I went but seemed to have lost my way a bit. Freshman year I went to the on campus church service sporadically at best and by the time I had graduated and was living with Mr. Wonderful, it was a miracle if I was even a "chreaster".

By now most of you know that Adam isn't a fan of organized religion. He considers himself "spiritual, not religious." That's fair. But over the past decade I've always felt that something was missing. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot about organized religion I disagree with or downright dislike...but there are a lot of things about it that appeal to me. Namely, it's the congregating of people who have similar beliefs and are turning their attention to something good.

Because PJ (Pastor John) is now at a church in Golden Valley, it seemed it was now the right time. PJ was my minister growing up. He helped me develop a relationship with God, I babysat his son (oh so many stories there) and he showed me that a minister can be a real person too. So right after the new year I wrestled myself out of bed and into the car on a cold Sunday morning and headed to church.

I teared up throughout the entire service. It was obvious that it was where I needed to be. I was able to visit with PJ, his wife, and his two kids (the one I babysat is now 16!) afterwards. I felt good. I have continued to go since then save for a Sunday where I worshiped the porcelain god instead. Hmm...I hope I don't go to hell for that one.

Since that first service I have prayed daily for myself, my family, and my friends. I have found peace much more swiftly when faced with things that upset me. There is much that I want to change in my life - some of which I have control over and others I do not - and I can do that through my faith.

I'm not a crazy born-again or anything like that but I have found some comfort in my faith after some time where it was all very distant to me. It's nice to be home. :)

10 Minutes

To take after my BFF Phil, I thought I'd give myself 10 minutes to blog. I don't have anything incredibly earth shattering to say but that's no different than any other time, really.

Adam and I recently watched seasons 2 and 3 of The IT Crowd. Okay, maybe there are a few episodes left but you get the point. It's a British show and really freakin' funny. And so quotable! Take, for example:

1. "If you type 'google' into Google, you will break the Internet."
2. "I thought I could make it work between us because you looked a bit like a man!"
3. "I'll just put this over here with the rest of the fire."
4. "Its not you, it's me. No; actually it's not me it IS YOU!"
5. "Strap a seat belt on your ears Roy, cuz I'm about to take 'em for a wild ride!"

Usually I'm not a huge fan of British comedy and after the first season I wasn't too impressed. However, I laughed my ass off last night. I highly recommend the show.

Ok...it's only been 4 minutes but it's all I can handle today.