Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Nervously waiting

On this day in my pregnancy with LG (37 weeks 3 days), I spent a Sunday afternoon with my dad's side of the family for Gami Brunch, where I was told by my family that I would either be having the baby the next day (on my cousin's daughter's birthday) or before Christmas (that Friday). I told them they were all crazy, as there was no evidence that the baby was coming soon--I hadn't "dropped," had any real contractions, lost my plug, or even had effacement/dilation checked by my doctor. However, a couple hours later at home, standing at the bottom of the stairs wrapping up a casserole and talking to AD, I felt a giant blub and told AD, "honey, something just happened in my pants." My water had broken, contractions started up, and LG was born the next morning. 

So here I am again at 37 weeks 3 days, one month shy of three years later, with a different set of circumstances. Almost two weeks ago (35 weeks 4 days), huffing my way back to my car after dropping LG at daycare, I was ragged and weary from the pace of working full-time and being a single mom part-time. I called the doctor, expecting them to have me come in, but since I'd been having Braxton Hicks and cramps, they insisted I go to the hospital to get checked out. I was 3-4cm dilated and 70% effaced, and since this was my second baby, they kept me overnight, then released me from the hospital and from work the next morning with instructions to take it easy and try to get to 37 weeks (or more). The following morning, I lost my plug. Almost two weeks later- I'm about the same, though getting even bigger, more uncomfortable, and starting to get anxious. 

I've been having a hard time falling asleep when I lay down in bed at night, even though I tell myself that this could be the last good rest I get before labor begins. I get this nervous feeling in my chest and have to concentrate on breathing. Though I've now read Ina May's Guide to Childbirth two times in the past months, have ideas of what I might do differently this time, have evidence that things might be different this time, and have a positive attitude, I'm still anxious. So, I think it might be helpful to just put out there some of the things that are worrying me:

- AD has not had to work since the 9th. He'll go back to work on the 26th--the Tuesday before Thanksgiving--and work through the 30th--the day after Thanksgiving. If I go into labor while he's at work, he's going to have a hell of a time getting home with the holiday travel. So I'm wondering, should we try to use some natural labor induction methods to get things moving so Baby Girl Meyer arrives before he goes back to work? Or would it be best to just let her come when she's ready and risk AD missing her birth? My next doctor appointment is tomorrow, so I guess we'll just wait and see what she thinks.
- Due to the fact that I have Group B Strep, that I'm already 4cm dilated, and since this is my second baby and my labor (not pushing, unfortunately) with LG was relatively short, the doctor has stressed that I need to get to the hospital right away when I go into labor. But what if this labor is different, and going in right away leads to Pitocin or C-section?
- This is going to sound really silly coming from someone who had her first child, and is planning on having her second child without any pain medication, but the IV I had at the hospital two weeks ago hurt the whole time it was in and for a couple days afterwards. Not looking forward to having another. Also, my doctor has said that I can just have the IV put in and injections of antibiotics put through without having fluids (I swear all of the fluid ended up in my feet last time), but I fear I'm going to have to argue with hospital staff about it.
- Finally, there are aspects of LG's birth and postpartum that I do not want to repeat: I pushed for three hours, different positions did not seem to help, and was really worn out by the end. I tore really badly. 10 days after he was born, I had severe bleeding and clotting, had two excruciating pelvic exams in the ER (seriously more painful than actually having LG), and a D&C to remove placental tissue.

So there it is, my fear. If you're the praying type, please keep these things in prayer for me.

Thursday, June 27, 2013


All day, I had an idea of what I would do with the quiet part of my evening once the toddler feeding, bathing, and bedding were complete--I was either going to work on the basement portion of "the great shuffle" that will be going on in our house throughout the next few months to get LG's big boy room ready, or I was going to work on some (non-post) bloggy stuff I need to do.

But the evening played out differently. I was able to pick up LG from daycare a little earlier than normal, and it started storming right as we pulled in the driveway (he was thrilled at the opportunity to use the umbrella, or "la" as he calls it). It was so dark inside the house that I turned a lamp on. We played with his cars, and he helped me get dinner ready.

During dinner, I realized that these days of just him and I, so simple--no working on projects or running to the hardware store like when his dad is home, but an easy meal, a brief task like watering the garden or taking out the trash, bath, and bedtime--are numbered. Soon we will have to navigate a whole new routine that meets the physical needs of an infant and the emotional needs of a toddler.

While I was rocking quietly in LG's darkened room as he settled down into his crib, I was at peace, and decided I was just going to clean up the kitchen and go to bed. You see, AD had been home the two days prior, and kept me up on feet well into the night working on plans and designs for the garden and basement. And to be honest, I've been sleeping much better when I have the whole bed to myself. Finally, yesterday was the first time I can definitively say that I felt this new baby move, and it moved over and over again throughout the evening, as if to assure me of it's presence. 

So tonight, I will put my plans aside, and hopefully drift off into a long sleep to the tappings of this little one.

Saturday, June 22, 2013


I know I've shared some things before about how AD's profession as a pilot affects our lives (if you want to read about it, click on the "life of a wife of a pilot" label to the right). While I'm not about to do a full out post about the ins and outs of being a pilot's wife, I had a realization today that I want to record.

AD and LG have been visiting AD's family this week, and I have had a bit of free time (which could have been a bit better structured--but hey, I'm pregnant, so what my mind wants to do and what my body will do are two very different things). One of the things I've done with my single girl time is watch a couple of chick flicks. Today I browsed new releases and picked "Friends with Kids," mostly because it had Maya Rudolph and Kristen Wiig in it, and also because it was a comedy about people in their 30's with kids. The storyline is basically that a gal and guy who are BFs decide to have a baby together because the clock is ticking and neither have found the one. And, you guessed it, they realize they're in love with each other and end up together. But not before one realizes it before the other and they spend some time apart.

At first, the friends-with-a-kid-but-not-romantically-involved thing seems to be working really well for the friends, especially regarding mundane, everyday life. When the female protagonist tells the male protagonist that she wants to be a real family, he's not ready. So they spend their time apart, and in the last scene when he's winning her back, he tells her that they were wrong in thinking that they would raise a kid together [as friends] so they could still have the "romantic part" separately, but that he realized that the raising a kid together was the romantic part.

And in a lot of ways, I agree. Mundane, everyday life, and being a family is romantic to me. So I was thinking about what everyday life is like for AD and I. I work Monday through Friday, and he works Thursday/Friday through Monday/Tuesday, so my weekend is Saturday and Sunday, and his is Tuesday through Thursday(ish). There isn't a regular day (or two) when one of us isn't waking up to an alarm and going to work. We don't get to wake up together and spend the whole day together.

I get him after he's worked four days with very little sleep. He gets me after I've been up and worked eight hours. I've been saying lately (though not to him, at least in a direct manner) that AD is going to run me ragged, because when I get home after work he wants to work together to make some progress on projects--this summer it's been the garden box, compost container, basement shelving, etc. While I'm so thankful to have a husband who wants to spend time with me and has the motivation of the Energizer bunny, all this pregnant lady really wants to do after work is have dinner, have some playtime with the kid before he goes to bed, do a load of wash or something low key, and go to bed.

And while I am happy and our life works--Logan usually only has to go to daycare three days a week and we each get two days off with him, we get three/four days each week when we spend as much after-work time together as we can--I can't help but think that I want to wake up and be with them all day. I want to wake up and give them 100% of myself, not what's left over after eight hours of work, because I love them so much and they deserve it. 

I am not saying that anything needs to change; I'm just sharing this realization, and this longing in my heart.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Happy Father's Day

To my husband:  

And to our fathers:

And since we missed Mother's Day (on the blog), a belated Happy Mother's Day to our moms:

Monday, June 3, 2013

Monday, Monday

Today was a lousy day, and I am weary. This is one of the verses that the Lord has really put on my heart this year: 


Friday, May 31, 2013

The coast and the city

I can barely believe that it’s the end of May. Not a lot of posting up in here this month, for a few reasons:

1.       The first part of the month I was getting us ready for vacation. Lots of shopping for the perfect pair or sandals for me, 
      boardies for AD, and small items to keep LG busy during his first airplane ride, along with paying bills, washing, packing, etc.
2.      We were on vacation for a week, during which time I unplugged. No email, Facebook, blogs, Internet-anything. It was 
3.      I was pregnant the whole month. How’s that for a super low key life event reveal? I am currently 12 weeks and due 
     December 8th. I’ve been tired, nauseated, and hungry.

Besides the vacation and pregnancy, I was also a perfectionist throughout the entire month (okay, throughout my entire life). Though I know things don’t need to be perfect and have come a long, long way, perfectionism still trips me up, wedges itself between me and my dreams, and sometimes paralyzes me. If I don’t have the (time, energy, resources) to do this (blog post, DIY project, event, meal) to an acceptable level I’ve created in my head, I just won’t do it at all.

In terms of the blog, I don’t have the time or energy right now to make it read, look, feel the way I want it to, which has been a stumbling block to recording and sharing what’s been going on in our lives, in my head, and in my heart this year.

Though I wanted to do something fun to highlight my first blogiversary (and Mother’s Day, and the new bebe) this month, it didn’t happen. I did go back and read my first blog post, and realized that I need to get back to where I was a year ago: simply writing as a way to share memories, work out some things going on in my head/heart, and hopefully glorifying God. Not posting photojournalistic snapshots with each post, using the perfect graphic and font, getting followers, getting my projects pinned, etc. So I’m going back to basics for a while. If I have time to get my photos uploaded and edited, great, but if not, it’ll just be memories and meaningful content.

So, here’s what I’m noodling on right now:

Part I
My family (AD, LG, and I) and the fam I’m from (mom, dad, brother, brother’s girlfriend) spent last week with my mom’s aunt’s family at a gorgeous beach house on St. Simons Island, Georgia (it’s on the coast between Savannah and Jacksonville). We had a wonderful time—I will definitely be doing a detailed post about our trip with pics at some point—but what’s really struck me since I’ve been home is the simple beauty of that place.

Last week it was the ocean, beach, and marshes, lush foliage and hanging moss, colorful homes of all types of architecture, vintage-style bikes, the sunshine, the breeze. And this week, driving to the grocery store and looking around, I’m seeing concrete, powerlines, restaurants and strip malls, and house after house after house in one of four styles with grass and one or two trees (in one of five species) in the yard. This culture shock of sorts made me realize what an effect being surrounded by a beautiful environment can have on your spirit. Now, I know comparing an upscale vacation destination and working-class metropolitan area isn’t quite fair. And I’m not saying that I don’t see some beauty in some parts of the suburbs or city, but as indicated in my use of the word “some” in the first part of this sentence, it is often an exception, not the norm; something that must be sought out or looked for, not simply taken in. There are a lot of people who would tell me that I need to  choose to find the beauty in the everyday, blah blah blah.

All that said, I know there are a lot of beautiful places--city and country, in all directions, near and far--that working people can live. While it has been in our family plan to eventually move out to a big piece of land with hills and trees and water and be as self-sufficient as possible, traveling to this beautiful place confirmed it that much more, and brought the goal into finer focus.

Part II
On Tuesday, AD, LG, and I hopped in the car as soon as I got home from work, headed to a nursery down by the airport that has quality plants for cheap. When we got there, we were greeted by a sign telling us that they were sold out and closed until they'd have farm produce in late July. So we took a different way home, one in which we'd pass a few more nurseries. A little way down the road, in a city we only ever pass through, I made AD pull over because my stomach was getting empty and making me feel like I was going to puke. 

The next place to pull over was a gas station with a McDonald's. So we got out of our decade-old car, all of us in t-shirts, jeans, and flip flops, and ordered dinner. And the overwhelming feeling while we were there was that we were not welcome there, mostly because we were not black.

And I just thought, this is BS. I live in this county, my taxes help out here, and I can't get some chicken McNuggets without dealing with crap? And then all of the ranting I hear from my father, who grew up in Detroit but now calls it a dump (among other things), and the comments from my aunt and uncle when they get back from visiting my cousin's family in Charlotte, all started to make sense. I was asking myself, why should I deal with a corrupted city that can't help itself (can we say Kwame?), horrible roads, high gas prices, when I don't have to?

And these musings bring me to an ongoing internal struggle between optimism and pessimism, and a question I ask myself all the time about a lot of things: When do you keep trying, and when do you give up on (your city, job, family, friends, religion, sports team, ____)?

This city has me feeling this way this week, but even more so over the past year, I've felt this way towards the behavior of some people in my life that I care about. As I've grown older, I've become more complacent; less likely to speak my mind if I feel that something or someone has done wrong. I've been wondering whether it's that I'm afraid of the lasting consequences of being really straight up/standing up to someone, whether I'm being complacent because these people are not a part of my everyday life and dealings, or whether an appropriate opportunity just hasn't come along yet. The one thing that resonates with me, though, is that doing and saying nothing just perpetuates a bad cycle that could at least change, and maybe one day end.

Well, this post was...
...all over the place?
...moving in the right direction


Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Dress code

Today I took a huge load of clothes to the consignment shop. The majority of it still fit, but don't quite fit with my lifestyle anymore--I don't have to dress up for work, I like my tops longer since having a baby, etc. 

But the dresses. Oh, the dresses. You see, I don't really buy or wear dresses except for special occasions, and so the dresses hold some sentimental value. Included in the load were:

- The dress I wore at my high school graduation party

- The dress I wore to AD's friend's wedding during my first trip home with him

- The dress I wore to AD's best friend's wedding and caught the bouquet:

circa 2006
- The dress I wore to my tea party bridal shower:
 - The dress I wore to my official bridal shower:

 - A dress I wore on our honeymoon.

All were five years or older. Sad to see them go. I wonder what I'll have to part with five years from now...
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