I am sure that some of my loyal blog followers have been wondering if we are keeping the name of our son a secret until the birth. After all, I haven't listed his name here and I consistently refer to him as our son. It isn't that I haven't wanted to share the name with you all. It is simply that when I shared the name, I wanted to share both his first and middle names. So, I held off on announcing the middle name thinking that surely we would decide on a name fairly quickly. Unfortunately, we still haven't picked out a middle name...
Years ago, before we knew that infertility had sunken it's claws into us, we daydreamed about what we would name our future children*. One night, Derek said that he had an idea for a little boy's name. It was a name that carried out a tactic my parents used to name me. It combined both my name and his name to create another name. I thought it was a perfect name** and it will be the name we use for our son.
Since we still haven't picked a middle name and I want to start referring to him by name when I blog, I am going to announce his first name now.
Our son will be named Carder.
And now you know...
For middle names, we originally had picked out my mom's maiden name which is Wade. But, when we realized that my kooky cousin has that name as a middle name, it doesn't seem as perfect anymore. And now Derek thinks that Carder Wade sounds like a cowboy. However, this name is still in the running.
We also like the idea of having his middle name start with an A - this would give him the same initials as my dad. We thought we had decided on Aiden, but then Derek realized the reason he suggested this name and liked it was because one of his co-workers has a son with that name. It doesn't mean we can't use it, but that took some of the pizazz out of that name.
There are a couple of names that I really like, but these are also the names of friends children.***
I know we definitely don't want a middle name that starts with a C or an S. And we don't want a middle name that ends in an "er" sound (as the poor child would have 3 names ending in "er"). So, Alexander is out. As are Sebastian and Stephen and Christopher...
I also don't want a "strange" name like Hulk or Apple or Zeus. Or PineSeedling. Or Dances With Wolves.
Anyone have any great suggestions?
Hopefully, we will decide on a name before Carder enters this world sometime in the next 12 or so weeks.
*For a girl, I wanted to use a name that could be shortened into a cute nickname - i.e. Madeline (Maddy) or Isabella (Bella) - and this was long before the popularity of the Twilight series. Bella is no longer a name that I would use even though I love it.
**I think this is the perfect name for our son, probably to a fault. After one of our friends that didn't even want children got pregnant, they found out they were having a boy. At an event (at which I may or may not have had too many glasses of wine), I asked if they had picked a name. When I heard the name, I quickly informed her that it was the name we had picked and I let her know that if we ever had a boy, these children would share a name because we weren't changing our choice - after all, we had already been trying for 4 years at that point. I don't think she was amused. And she didn't change her name. Not that it matters much as her son is 2 years old now and they live in Georgia...But I digress...
*** As if the item above didn't make this clear enough, when you struggle with infertility and you have been lapped by many others, the baby name pool gets shallower and shallower. Eventually, you are going to have to name your child with the same name as one of your friends. It sucks.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Third Trimester
Today, I am 28 weeks pregnant. I am officially in my third trimester. I am about 2/3 of the way through this miracle pregnancy. I am still in awe that I am able to say that. Every time I feel our little boy move inside me or I glance down at my swollen belly, I fee so fortunate to be experiencing this opportunity. And every day that passes is one more day closer we come to meeting our miracle face to face and staring down into his beautiful little eyes.
This last week, as people that I know in the infertility world experienced different scares, milestones, heartaches, and triumphs; I took some time to reflect and marvel at just how lucky I feel to be able to be carrying our son.
This last week, as people that I know in the infertility world experienced different scares, milestones, heartaches, and triumphs; I took some time to reflect and marvel at just how lucky I feel to be able to be carrying our son.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Legend of Spring
Before we moved to Michigan, I had been told that we would have lovely Springs. I want to know when that will start...
After what we thought was SURELY the last snowfall, we have a winter weather advisory beginning this afternoon. We are to expect 4 to 8 inches of snow/sleet/ice.
Next week, as I travel to Georgia for the baby showers, I was going to take the winter maternity clothes that I had borrowed back to the lender. And I have been thinking of buying a couple of spring maternity dresses. But now I am wondering if I will need to take my winter maternity coat with me to labor and delivery in July...
I have loved the snow, but I am ready to move on to the next season.
After what we thought was SURELY the last snowfall, we have a winter weather advisory beginning this afternoon. We are to expect 4 to 8 inches of snow/sleet/ice.
Next week, as I travel to Georgia for the baby showers, I was going to take the winter maternity clothes that I had borrowed back to the lender. And I have been thinking of buying a couple of spring maternity dresses. But now I am wondering if I will need to take my winter maternity coat with me to labor and delivery in July...
I have loved the snow, but I am ready to move on to the next season.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
My Thoughts on PETA
As I am sure you are all aware by now of the atrocious campaign that PETA was offering "in honor" of National Infertility Awareness Week.
When I first heard about the campaign, it was from reading the posts of fellow bloggers. I was furious that PETA would even consider it remotely appropriate to give away a vasectomy to honor the millions of people who can't have children. Right, because that is exactly what we all asked for.
I had the best intentions of writing my own email to PETA to let them know how outraged I was. The first roadblock to this was that the campaign to stop PETA happened when I was pretty busy. As each day slipped past, I kept telling myself that I would have time to get to it the next day.
The second roadblock - well - that one was probably self imposed. As I read the letters that were posted on the blogs of my online friends, I realized just how eloquent and well written those letters were. They seemed to be written by people with clear heads who listed facts and figures as arguments for why PETA should drop their campaign. And they never once dropped the F-Bomb.
As I tried to compose my own letter, I couldn't figure out how to express myself and my anger without cursing. Unless I pirated one of the letters written by a fellow blogger, the best part of my contribution to the fight was that I was going to tell them that instead of honoring infertiles with this campaign, perhaps they should honor the Dugger Family (and those like them) as they were more likely to overpopulate the world than we infertiles were.
And then it happened. From the dedication and persistence of the bloggers whose writings I admired (and was considering claiming as my own), PETA caved in and dropped any mention of NIAW from their contest.
And to those bloggers who were eloquent enough to say the right words and determined enough to win the battle, on behalf of the infertile community I would like to say THANK YOU!
When I first heard about the campaign, it was from reading the posts of fellow bloggers. I was furious that PETA would even consider it remotely appropriate to give away a vasectomy to honor the millions of people who can't have children. Right, because that is exactly what we all asked for.
I had the best intentions of writing my own email to PETA to let them know how outraged I was. The first roadblock to this was that the campaign to stop PETA happened when I was pretty busy. As each day slipped past, I kept telling myself that I would have time to get to it the next day.
The second roadblock - well - that one was probably self imposed. As I read the letters that were posted on the blogs of my online friends, I realized just how eloquent and well written those letters were. They seemed to be written by people with clear heads who listed facts and figures as arguments for why PETA should drop their campaign. And they never once dropped the F-Bomb.
As I tried to compose my own letter, I couldn't figure out how to express myself and my anger without cursing. Unless I pirated one of the letters written by a fellow blogger, the best part of my contribution to the fight was that I was going to tell them that instead of honoring infertiles with this campaign, perhaps they should honor the Dugger Family (and those like them) as they were more likely to overpopulate the world than we infertiles were.
And then it happened. From the dedication and persistence of the bloggers whose writings I admired (and was considering claiming as my own), PETA caved in and dropped any mention of NIAW from their contest.
And to those bloggers who were eloquent enough to say the right words and determined enough to win the battle, on behalf of the infertile community I would like to say THANK YOU!
Pampered Chef Revisited and a Support Group
On Monday night, I was invited to go to another Pampered Chef Party by my real estate agent. This party was being held at the home of "the woman" that I have been so concerned about. Of course, I jumped at the chance to go. I know, if I really had offended her, showing up at her home may not have been the wisest idea. But, I wasn't sure if I would ever have another opportunity.
Before the party began, I had a chance to tell her what I had missed out on telling her the first time. As it turns out, my emotion-dar was right on. She and her husband weren't suffering from infertility, but had recently had a miscarriage. She is in her 40s and it was a surprise pregnancy, so she admitted that she didn't understand the heartache of really wanting a child until after she had lost one. She is a really sweet woman and she was touched that I sought her out to make sure that she knew our situation *just in case* she was struggling. So, I can now rest easy about that situation.
Derek and I started attending a local church. On Sunday, there was an announcement in the bulletin that an Infertility/Adoption support group was being formed. The first meeting of the group was last night. The only ones who attended the meeting were myself and the group leader. (She was older when she started TTC so she moved on to International Adoption after only a year of TTC). I think that we were both disappointed that there weren't more people that attended, but it was nice to meet someone in the area who understood where I was coming from. She indicated that there were at least 2 other women in the church that she thought might attend in the future. She also mentioned that this was the only support group she had seen in the area, so she hoped that possibly others in the community might attend. The group will be meeting once per month to begin with and I think I will go again, even if it is just a small group to start with.
The ALI online community has been such a life saver to me over these last years and I don't know how I could have survived the journey without the support I have received here. I know that I am no longer currently TTC and neither is the group leader. But, I hope that by forming a group, we might be able to be a support system for those who are still trying.
Before the party began, I had a chance to tell her what I had missed out on telling her the first time. As it turns out, my emotion-dar was right on. She and her husband weren't suffering from infertility, but had recently had a miscarriage. She is in her 40s and it was a surprise pregnancy, so she admitted that she didn't understand the heartache of really wanting a child until after she had lost one. She is a really sweet woman and she was touched that I sought her out to make sure that she knew our situation *just in case* she was struggling. So, I can now rest easy about that situation.
Derek and I started attending a local church. On Sunday, there was an announcement in the bulletin that an Infertility/Adoption support group was being formed. The first meeting of the group was last night. The only ones who attended the meeting were myself and the group leader. (She was older when she started TTC so she moved on to International Adoption after only a year of TTC). I think that we were both disappointed that there weren't more people that attended, but it was nice to meet someone in the area who understood where I was coming from. She indicated that there were at least 2 other women in the church that she thought might attend in the future. She also mentioned that this was the only support group she had seen in the area, so she hoped that possibly others in the community might attend. The group will be meeting once per month to begin with and I think I will go again, even if it is just a small group to start with.
The ALI online community has been such a life saver to me over these last years and I don't know how I could have survived the journey without the support I have received here. I know that I am no longer currently TTC and neither is the group leader. But, I hope that by forming a group, we might be able to be a support system for those who are still trying.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Sing You Home
I love to read. My latest read was "Sing You Home" by Jodi Picoult. I have read several of Picoult's books and have found each of them to be page turners.
A couple of weeks ago, I saw a blurb in a magazine about "Sing You Home" while I was waiting on Derek to get his hair cut. What I read in the book preview stated that the book was about embryo donation and the legal battle for a same sex couple to use those embryos. As you can guess, this peaked my curiosity and I immediately went to the library to find this book.
This isn't Picoult's first mention of ART in one of her books. Anyone who has read "My Sister's Keeper" is aware of this fact.
What I wasn't expecting were the events of the first chapter. While I don't want to spoil anything for you, a quick Internet search would reveal most of what I am about to tell you.
After struggling with infertility for years, Zoe and Max are finally pregnant. The first pages of the book talk about their struggles - and as a fellow infertility patient, you can feel how the character of Zoe could be you. Her desire to be a mother, the injectibles, the pain of past miscarriages - all of it - are spelled out in those first few pages. I was hooked.
And then, at 28 weeks, Zoe is having a baby shower. And during that shower, Zoe's placenta detaches and loses the baby. I was shocked. Crushed. (After all, I am flying to Georgia for a baby shower in a couple of weeks - when I will be 29 weeks - for a baby shower. Enter PANIC*)
All of that aside, I was still hooked and couldn't put the book down. Zoe never gives up the hope of becoming a mother, even after Max divorces her because he no longer wants to be a father. If you can stomach the first chapter (which I have already given you the most shocking parts of) and you aren't offended by same sex relationships, I would definitely recommend this book. It was heart wrenching and real.
And although it wasn't exactly what I thought it would be, I loved the fact that Picoult wrote about struggling with infertility as if it had actually happened to her. I hope that as this book's circulation increases, the non-infertile population will be able to see past the homosexual's trying for a baby portion of this book. Instead, I hope they will focus on the portion of the book that allows others to see inside the life of an infertile - the intense desire to become a mother and the pain/struggles that we often have to endure to get there.
I couldn't think of a better time than now, with National Infertility Awareness Week approaching, to give a shout out to Picoult and "Sing You Home". I hope that each of you finds time to read it and I hope that it touches you in the same way it touched me.
*Side note - for a few days after reading this book, I did have panic attacks when our little boy seemed to be moving less frequently. Luckily, there were only a couple of days that he seemed to be less active and that I worried obsessively about this.
A couple of weeks ago, I saw a blurb in a magazine about "Sing You Home" while I was waiting on Derek to get his hair cut. What I read in the book preview stated that the book was about embryo donation and the legal battle for a same sex couple to use those embryos. As you can guess, this peaked my curiosity and I immediately went to the library to find this book.
This isn't Picoult's first mention of ART in one of her books. Anyone who has read "My Sister's Keeper" is aware of this fact.
What I wasn't expecting were the events of the first chapter. While I don't want to spoil anything for you, a quick Internet search would reveal most of what I am about to tell you.
After struggling with infertility for years, Zoe and Max are finally pregnant. The first pages of the book talk about their struggles - and as a fellow infertility patient, you can feel how the character of Zoe could be you. Her desire to be a mother, the injectibles, the pain of past miscarriages - all of it - are spelled out in those first few pages. I was hooked.
And then, at 28 weeks, Zoe is having a baby shower. And during that shower, Zoe's placenta detaches and loses the baby. I was shocked. Crushed. (After all, I am flying to Georgia for a baby shower in a couple of weeks - when I will be 29 weeks - for a baby shower. Enter PANIC*)
All of that aside, I was still hooked and couldn't put the book down. Zoe never gives up the hope of becoming a mother, even after Max divorces her because he no longer wants to be a father. If you can stomach the first chapter (which I have already given you the most shocking parts of) and you aren't offended by same sex relationships, I would definitely recommend this book. It was heart wrenching and real.
And although it wasn't exactly what I thought it would be, I loved the fact that Picoult wrote about struggling with infertility as if it had actually happened to her. I hope that as this book's circulation increases, the non-infertile population will be able to see past the homosexual's trying for a baby portion of this book. Instead, I hope they will focus on the portion of the book that allows others to see inside the life of an infertile - the intense desire to become a mother and the pain/struggles that we often have to endure to get there.
I couldn't think of a better time than now, with National Infertility Awareness Week approaching, to give a shout out to Picoult and "Sing You Home". I hope that each of you finds time to read it and I hope that it touches you in the same way it touched me.
*Side note - for a few days after reading this book, I did have panic attacks when our little boy seemed to be moving less frequently. Luckily, there were only a couple of days that he seemed to be less active and that I worried obsessively about this.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
99
According to my ticker, that is how many days we have left until our baby boy's due date! We are now in the double digits. Wow. Just, wow.
Friday, April 1, 2011
The Tale of the Ta-Tas
For my readers still TTC: I would like to preface this post by saying that it is not intended to be a "whining about my pregnancy" post, but as someone who has been there, I can understand how it could easily be taken as such. I am very grateful to be able to have this experience. However, I want to journal about this pregnancy - from the miraculous things like feeling the baby move to the more mundane and perhaps traumatic things that I am experiencing in this journey. Please feel free to skip reading this post.
Here is a fact about me that many of you do not know.
When I was 21, I had a breast reduction. In high school, the girls started getting bigger and just didn't stop. By the time I was in college, they were HUGE. When they finally topped out and stopped growing, I was a 32 F.
After the reduction, I was a 32 C. It was a full C, but at least I could buy my bras in a normal store and they could be pretty. My bra size fluctuated with my weight after that point - but the girls never got bigger than a D until the pregnancy.
By the end of the first trimester, I knew that I needed a new bra - but I put off going **JUST IN CASE** they kept getting bigger. They didn't seem to be, so at about 19 weeks along, I went bra shopping. My rib cage had expanded some, so my size at the time was a 34 DD (or, a 34 E). I wasn't surprised with the increase. The sales clerk assured me that this was probably as big as they would get until my milk came in.
Ahem. She was so wrong. (She was also fairly young and I should have known better than to have trusted ANYTHING she said).
Just a mere 4 weeks after buying the said new bra, I realized that I was noticeably hanging out of the new and larger bra. And not just hanging out - it was so tight that it was leaving lines on my breasts. So, last Monday(at 23 weeks), I went out shopping for a new bra.
Imagine my surprise when I measured as a 34 G. A G. As in "G, can your boobs get ANY bigger???" Just in case you didn't know - a G is the largest cup size that most stores will carry in stock. And they carry very few of them. And they are super expensive. And, not that I am trying to impress anyone with my huge boobs and belly, but they are not the LEAST bit attractive. The straps are easily 3 inches wide and there are 4 hooks in the back (you would need to be double jointed to put this bra on by yourself - I seriously worked up a sweat trying the sucker on in the dressing room).
This clerk - who was an older, wiser woman - indicated that my growth may not be done yet even prior to the milk coming in.
So, I instead of buying the uber expensive bras that might only last me a few more weeks, I ended up buying a couple of nursing bras at Mother.hood - they fit more like a sports bra and give me a little more room to grow and still support the weight of the enlarging ta-tas. I am not a huge fan of the style - the back and the straps are more of a racer back styling (and therefore show in some of the shirts that I have) and the under your shirt effect is more of the squishing you down like a sports bra, but at least they fit and will hopefully last me longer than a few weeks.
In my last post, I mentioned that I was concerned about the amount of weight gain in the last 4 weeks. The reason is that I had gained 7 lbs. This is almost 2 times the recommended pound per week. But, I also need to take into account that a good bit of this weight was easily attributed to the increase in breast size. When I went from an F to a C in the reduction, I think that I lost over 4 lbs of breast weight.
So, there you have it. The tale of the ta-tas. I am sure this is not the end of the story. Does anyone know if they make a cup size of Z? I may need it later!
Here is a fact about me that many of you do not know.
When I was 21, I had a breast reduction. In high school, the girls started getting bigger and just didn't stop. By the time I was in college, they were HUGE. When they finally topped out and stopped growing, I was a 32 F.
After the reduction, I was a 32 C. It was a full C, but at least I could buy my bras in a normal store and they could be pretty. My bra size fluctuated with my weight after that point - but the girls never got bigger than a D until the pregnancy.
By the end of the first trimester, I knew that I needed a new bra - but I put off going **JUST IN CASE** they kept getting bigger. They didn't seem to be, so at about 19 weeks along, I went bra shopping. My rib cage had expanded some, so my size at the time was a 34 DD (or, a 34 E). I wasn't surprised with the increase. The sales clerk assured me that this was probably as big as they would get until my milk came in.
Ahem. She was so wrong. (She was also fairly young and I should have known better than to have trusted ANYTHING she said).
Just a mere 4 weeks after buying the said new bra, I realized that I was noticeably hanging out of the new and larger bra. And not just hanging out - it was so tight that it was leaving lines on my breasts. So, last Monday(at 23 weeks), I went out shopping for a new bra.
Imagine my surprise when I measured as a 34 G. A G. As in "G, can your boobs get ANY bigger???" Just in case you didn't know - a G is the largest cup size that most stores will carry in stock. And they carry very few of them. And they are super expensive. And, not that I am trying to impress anyone with my huge boobs and belly, but they are not the LEAST bit attractive. The straps are easily 3 inches wide and there are 4 hooks in the back (you would need to be double jointed to put this bra on by yourself - I seriously worked up a sweat trying the sucker on in the dressing room).
This clerk - who was an older, wiser woman - indicated that my growth may not be done yet even prior to the milk coming in.
So, I instead of buying the uber expensive bras that might only last me a few more weeks, I ended up buying a couple of nursing bras at Mother.hood - they fit more like a sports bra and give me a little more room to grow and still support the weight of the enlarging ta-tas. I am not a huge fan of the style - the back and the straps are more of a racer back styling (and therefore show in some of the shirts that I have) and the under your shirt effect is more of the squishing you down like a sports bra, but at least they fit and will hopefully last me longer than a few weeks.
In my last post, I mentioned that I was concerned about the amount of weight gain in the last 4 weeks. The reason is that I had gained 7 lbs. This is almost 2 times the recommended pound per week. But, I also need to take into account that a good bit of this weight was easily attributed to the increase in breast size. When I went from an F to a C in the reduction, I think that I lost over 4 lbs of breast weight.
So, there you have it. The tale of the ta-tas. I am sure this is not the end of the story. Does anyone know if they make a cup size of Z? I may need it later!
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