The (almost) first 6 months

Dear Lucy,

My goodness!  Nearly 6 months old already.  I have no idea how this happened but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with super powers and your dad's love of geeky sci fi shows.

But alas, we're careening towards a major milestone and I thought it might be a good idea to take a look back at the first 6 months of your life.

I should preface any and all stories with the disclaimer that you have been the best baby ever.  Truly.  You started sleeping through the night at 6 weeks, you're too lazy to cry, and you like to observe new places and faces so you're always game for an outing (as long as you don't need to spend too much time in your car seat).  So when I laugh at with you, please remember that I consider myself incredibly lucky to be raising such a pleasant, fun baby.

We've learned a lot about you over the past 6 months.  You're a happy girl who loves everybody but especially your dad.  You smile a lot and love to have someone nom on your cheeks, tummy, legs, etc.  Whenever someone gets close to your face, you open your mouth wide with a devilish look on your face.  This is adorable but something I wish you'd do less often with your dogs.

Speaking of your dogs.  You think they're pretty awesome.  Sometimes you seem to know and recognize them and other times you look confused or surprised by them.  Their wrestling and growling often brings a smile to your face.  Just a few days ago I caught you petting Tuck and him giving you a little kiss on your hand.

You hate to lay down.  You are an active participant in the world and it frustrates you when we forget that.  Your Bumbo has been one of your favorite contraptions for a long time simply because it allows you to sit up like everybody else.

You like soft things like blankets, burp cloths, and soft toys.  You want to suck on them constantly.  You rejected the pacifier but you're just as soothed by fabric of some sort.

At nearly 6 months of age, you still don't roll over.  I try not to worry because I'm pretty sure you can and just don't want to.  You'll flip to your side from both your tummy and your back but you won't bother going the rest of the way.  Your dad and I joke that you'll be walking before you roll over because...

You're really getting into standing and jumping.  Your legs are strong and you like the new vantage point that comes with standing.  You're showing signs of being a bit of a daredevil because you like to be held up high over our heads.  Your dad is looking forward to throwing you in the air when you get a little bigger!

Generally speaking, napping doesn't interest you.  You'll take a couple 30 minute cat naps during the day but you make up for this by sleeping 10+ hours a night.  Your father and I thank you for that, by the way.  Mornings are my favorite time of day because you're just so happy to be alive!  You smile and cuddle and remind us how lucky we are.

You're a pro at cereals.  In fact, a couple spoonfuls into your first feeding and your dad and I were very impressed.  You prefer rice cereal though we're trying to get more oatmeal into you.  Your dad is getting excited to start you on some veggies but I prefer to wait just a little bit longer.  You seem bored by the bottle but there's no way you could handle a sippy cup.

And your hair.  Oh all the hair.  By 4 months old we could do a pigtail at the top of your head.  Shortly thereafter we could do two!  It's your trademark and everyone loves it.  Your Nana keeps saying you need a hair cut and while I agree, I can't bring myself to do it.

You see your Nana and Papa Luopa every Friday with your dad.  You play games and visit.  They enjoy having that special time with you.  You see your Nana and Papa Petrie every Saturday and they like to play games and rough house with you a bit (especially your Nana!).  Everybody loves you so much!

While mom goes to work, you stay home with your dad.  You keep him busy with playing, eating, reading books, and walking through the house.  He loves that time at home with you and I know that you feel the same.  It's hard for me to leave in the morning but I like knowing that you two are home together.

You've grown up so much in such a short time.  You have a new trick everyday and it's been a lot of fun to be a participant in your life.  I still tear up when I think of how badly we wanted you and how blessed we are to have those particular prayers answered.  I promise to keep trying to document as much of this as possible if you promise to slow it all down a little bit.  Deal?

Love,
Mom

Living with baby

It's been 5 months of bottles, dirty diapers, baths, laundry, smiles, giggles, drool, and love.  5 months.  A complete whirlwind.  And clearly I'm horrible at documenting the most important time in my life. 

I have loved every minute.

I've loved:

• how she would stretch her neck those first few weeks; the way she'd set her jaw and her chin would jut out.
• how she'd mimic you when you stuck your tongue out at her.
• her smiles when you first peer at her over the side of her crib in the morning.
• the way her hair poofs up in the back regardless of how you comb it.
• the way she grins adoringly at her dad.
• the way she grins adoringly at her brother.
• the way she grins adoringly at me.
• the hours upon hours she sleeps at night.
• her teeny tiny hands and teeny tiny feet.
• pigtails at the top of her head.
• feet in the mouth.
• her apparent love of the songs "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" and (of course) the Minnesota Rouser.
• the excited grinning I receive when I get home from work.

I wish I would have taken the time to document these things for her.  To write the stories down so that one day she could look back and read them.  I'm committing to doing more of that.  I'd also like to take more pictures of her too.  :)

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!