View

Over at MamaDrama, I was tipped off to Vicki's blog. Check out the view from the front door, er...doors...

And here's ours.





















What you can't see are the hundreds of chunks of ice in the yard that fell from the trees all night, pummelling the roof and freaking Seth out to no end.


Gratuitous baby photo:
















Oh my GOD we made a cute bebe.

Randomness

So, I caved in to the itty bitty, teeny baby. I let him sleep on me. All night. My philosophy has been for him to sleep in his crib, not in my bed. I am no where CLOSE to being a co-sleeper. But. Jackson seems to absolutely HATE his crib. And I must sleep. So I compromised. We slept on the sofa. And sleep we did.

Any comments about how tired I look will be kept to yourselves, thankyouverymuch.

I caught just a bit of the Golden Globes, and loved the bit I caught. And after reading the account of the show at Dooce, I must watch the entire show. Bravo replays it tomorrow...JOY. Tonite..."What Not to Wear." Sunday...SAINTS IN THE PLAYOFFS, BITCHES!!!! YAH!!!!

Did ya'll know that Daylight Savings Time is a month earlier this year? Did ya'll know the joy this brings to me?

Note to self: Drink regular coffee only after a meal. Not before. Too. Much. Stimulation.

Jeanne, thought of you this fine morning. "I Write the Songs" came on the radio. Your love of Barry Manilow is one of the things I love most about you. And I wanted to tell you that.

Love us or hate us

Inspired by Stuff on my Cat and Chuck.

Joe and I are bad, and are headed straight to hell.

Lil' Man

Jackson says "What Up!" Video courtesy of Grammy and Papa Joe. This camera is AWESOME. Thank you.

Sleep

Our first foray into video...

12, 3, and 6

I think the fog has lifted.
















The fog of newborn newness.

Last night, I actually got three hours of sleep. THREE. Thank you GOD. Jackson was nursing every hour or two, for two weeks. And packing on the pounds. He is already at 8 lbs., 9 ozs. He's got that fat little baby belly that looks like a loaf of bread. Much love and thanks to Laura, for coming to help for two days. She got to experience the sleep deprivation fog we've been living in.
















Things are starting to feel normal again. Hormones have calmed themselves down. I am almost back to 100% Heather. My body lets me know when I overdo it, but pain? Gone. It is amazing to me that a month ago, I had major surgery, and today, I feel fine.
















BooBoo is awake...gotta run...

Howdeeeeee

Hi everybody!














I just wanted to let ya'll know that all is well over here. I am well fed. I eat every hour, hour and a half, during the night. Mom said something about her nipples falling off. I don't understand.

I am hungry again. Must. Eat.

Will update more when my hunger subsides just a bit...

Baby Kisses~
Jackson

Roller Coaster

God, I miss being pregnant. Yes, the last few weeks were long and uncomfortable. But...

I miss feeling Jackson kick and squirm inside me. I miss rubbing cocoa butter on my big round belly. I miss Joe laying his hands on me and feeling the circus inside. I even miss the hospital...the nurses, and the anticipation. And it is so final now. Jackson is the last baby I'll have. I want to remember every little thing, and I know I won't. I forgot so much with Seth. I mean, I remember the milestones. But what Seth's toes looked like as a newborn? Nope.

These hormones are a bitch, ya'll. Typing what I just typed? Has me bawling. I folded up my maternity clothes yesterday, and started crying. I'll never wear them again.

I read this comment today, and it rang true.

"I think this is a very common emotion that doesn't get talked about a lot. It really is sometimes like grieving a loss. I mean you go into pregnancy mode for almost a year, and then suddenly, poof, it's gone. Not to mention, but when you're out and about, you are walking around as a pregnant person, and sometimes that feels nice and makes you feel special. Then, again, poof, that's gone, and you're regular old Joe Schmoe on the street again.
I have grieved a bit each time my pregnancy was over."

*sigh*

At least I'm not the only one.

But then I look at Jackson, and my heart just swells. And Seth, running around the house, playing video games, laughing his head off about farts...that makes me feel a little more grounded. I think that once the holidays are over, and things calm down and get back to normal, I will start to feel like Heather again.

The first of many

Photos for all!

Here I am at 37 weeks. My mom wore this shirt when she was pregnant. I love this shirt.




















Dinner service for Jackson:














We do this a lot. Stare at the bebe.
















Look at what we have made!














Realllly scary one of me, but great one of Seth and Jackson. Seth has been an incredible big bro. He wants to be involved in everything, and has been so so helpful.















OK. Off to take a nap! More pix and updates soon...

Jackson Jerry Turner

Monday, 12/11
Joe and I did some Christmas shopping and tried to walkwalkwalk as much as possible. I had a lot of BH’s, and we got a lot of smiles from strangers and questions of “How much longer?” After shopping we had dinner with friends at Julie and Mike’s house.

Tuesday, 12/12
9AM: Just another ordinary day. I brought Joe to work at one, then headed home to take a much needed nap. I stopped at Dr. Clark’s office because Jackson had slowed down dramatically this week, and I wanted to ask about that. I was hooked up to the monitor, and he was very quiet. Now, at this point, all is well. No worries…but Nancy, the nurse practioner, wanted to schedule an ultrasound ASAP, just to take a look.

2:30PM: I leave Dr. Clark, pick up Joe at work, and head to the hospital for the U/S. Jackson is CHILLIN’. His heart rate is fine, he’s just not moving. And it was a circus in there last week. So Dr. Clark thinks it would be best to go upstairs to L&D and be monitored for a few hours. I send Joe back to work for the evening.

9PM: Doc comes by and decides to admit me for the night. Jackson is still as quiet as can be. If things don’t change by the morning, Doc says we may induce. SWEET! Joe stops by after work, then heads home for the night. The nurses check me all through the night, and things are looking good. I start to feel that we will be sent home, and it will be a while longer. But it is all so up in the air! One minute it looks like Jackson will be here soon, the next it seems we’ll wait forever.

Wednesday, 12/13
7:30AM: One more U/S. Joe and I watch as Jackson moves a bit more than the day before. The nurses call Doc to tell him the news, and at this point, I KNOW we are headed home. I start thinking about all the things I need to get done…pack a bag, feed the animals, water the plants, SHOWER, etc. I’m disappointed to be going home, but I have tons to do there. However, when we head back to L&D for our things, it’s back on the monitor for me.

9:30AM: Our next move is a contraction stress test, to see how Jackson responds to labor. I’m hooked up to pitocin, starting with a small dose that is increased every 20 minutes. Barbara, the nurse, is awesome. She monitors every blip on the monitor. Things are looking good at the start of the test. I am certain that we will have at least another week of pregnancy. Joe and I are soooooo ready, though. We don’t want to go home. We’re already here at the hospital…so let’s just go for it. Jackson’s heart rate looks great through each contraction, until I’m at the highest dose of pitocin. His heart rate starts to slow down at the end of each contraction. So it’s a call to Doc again. Joe and I know that I’m being induced, TODAY. And we’re ready. Well, except that all of our stuff is still at home. Bags, camera…everything.

11:30AM: Dr.Clark arrives, checks things out, and gets serious. Very serious. Asks me to call Joe and have him come in. Joe is just outside, so when he comes up, we get the rundown.
Jackson’s heart rate is decelerating at the end of each strong contraction. This indicates that he will not handle labor well. His blood flow/oxygen flow could be compromised. Which could mean brain damage from labor. His strong suggestion to us is to opt for a c- section.

Which will take place in about 45 minutes.

At this point, I freak out. I ask questions, hoping for an alternate solution. There isn’t one. I have SEEN c-sections on TV. They terrify me. So I do what any grown woman would do. I start crying. People start coming in the room, asking questions, and we’re filling out forms, and I’m wheeled into the OR, and Joe is putting on scrubs. I can see him in the waiting area, all in blue with a mask. I am prepped and ready to go. Joe is sitting by me, holding my hand, and I tell him that I am just going to concentrate really hard on him. And I tell him not to look over the sheet, whatever he does. There is all this weird pushing and pulling, and within minutes, I feel lighter.

And Jackson is out and crying. And Joe and I are crying. And all is well.

Jackson Jerry Turner. He is perfect. He arrives at 1:05 PM on 12/13. 6 lbs., 12 ozs. of snuggly love. Head full of black hair, and really long fingers and toes.

Joe takes Jackson to the nursery with Barbara, the best L&D nurse EVER. And I am put back together. Except for a little thing called a tubal ligation. I’m in recovery for 45 minutes, then back in our room. Which is spacious, and sunny, and wonderful.

We stay at the hospital until Friday afternoon. Recovery from a c-section is BRUTAL. But I’m walking a bit on Thursday, and doing well enough on Friday for an early discharge.

Story to follow...

Go ahead. Guess.

Details you may need to make your wager:

• I have been dilated a centimeter for two weeks
• My cervix is thinning
• Jackson is low, low, low
• Sporadic contractions for weeks...some painful, some not
• Doc's due date: the 30th. U/S tech's due date: the 24th. I am now officially "full term" at 37 weeks.

No guesses past the 20th. Doc will induce on that day if Jackson hasn't arrived.

My initial guess was the 15th. I think we'll have to serve an eviction notice, though. Last week was full of regular contractions, and dilating, and thinning, and all that prelabor stuff.

This week? Nada. No...wait...lots of leg cramps. Yah. I think the one I had this morning tore muscle from bone.

*sigh*

So I'm sticking with the 15th. Call it wishful thinking. Extreme impatience. The overwhelming desire to wear jeans that button and zip.

We just want to meet this lil' dude so so much.

Hysterical

Lately, I have found myself laughing hysterically. Over anything. That kind of laughing that makes your eyes water, that makes you snort. I heard an interview with Angelina Jolie where she said she experienced uncontrollable bouts of this phenomenon while pregnant. My friend Brennan said she, too, experienced this while pregnant. Maybe it's nature's way of preparing for labor? Hmmmm...anywho...

Jenny posted this product description on her blog this morning. I cried and I snorted, just like I did when I discovered the Holiday Hawk.

Joe and Seth are just so confused with me right now...

If you know me...

...you will know why I broke down crying with laughter when I saw this ad.

FULL. TERM.

Jenny, I have taken your advice. Bring it on.

This morning, I am in the bathroom after my shower, drying off. Joe came in. Stopped. Really looked at The Belly. Said, "Oh my GOD you are round."

Yes. Yes I am.

Doc did an oil check on Friday. Said, "Whoa, he's low. You have to be feeling that."

Yes. Yes I am.

I am trying to keep myself as busy as possible. Monday night, we are going to dinner with some friends. Must. Watch. Football. Afterwards. See, Carolina must lose. I want my Saints to stay at the top of the NFC South. When I expressed my need to watch the game, somewhere other than my sofa, Joe joked, "You won't see the game if you're in stirrups."

Yes. Yes I will.

Tuesday...no plans. There is a full moon that night, though. Hmmmmmmm...

Wednesday. Asheville, for last minute shopping. Then the dentist with Seth.

Thursday. Breakfast with friends.

Friday. Oil check with Dr. Clark.

December Third

Sunday, I will officially be "full term." Thirty-seven weeks. And, as my parents can affirm, I am impatient as shit. Don't wanna wait. Want it NOW.

*sigh*

One last ultrasound tomorrow, at 8:30 AM. Just to check that all is well.

I've got elbows, feet, arms poking out all over the place. From my ribs to my hipbones. As ready as I am to finally meet Jackson, to get my body back, to walk and not waddle, to drink not a glass, but a BOTTLE of wine...I'm really going to miss being pregnant. This is it, the last time. I am torn between wanting to stay pregnant just a littttle bit longer, and wanting more than anything for labor to begin. Now.

I have only two more days of work left. Thank you GOD. My mind tells me that I can run around the restaurant and take every table that walks in the door. My body is like, "No no honey. Slow that waddle down now."

And let me tell you, I can't corner like I used to.

So send labor vibes. We are ready and waiting, all of us. Joe...Seth...me...

So...um...YEAH

Thirty-Five weeks.

Hold on...it gets better...





















Check out the side view.

Are you sick of seeing these pants? I am. And sick of wearing them.





















DAMN.





















I either...

A. Never got this big with Seth or
B. Conveniently forgot.

In any case, Dr. Clark says I am measuring just fine. I have begun dialating, just a little bit. And come December, it's game on. I am getting incredibly impatient.




















The view from our porch a few days ago. Today, it was 60 degrees. WILDNESS.

So, I make the decision to end my babymaking days. Get my tubes tied. I hate the way that sounds. "Tubes tied." Blech. Anywho, I head over to the medical center at the hospital to sign my fertility away. I detour into ER to ask a nurse the following:

"Been having Braxton-Hicks every five minutes for about three hours. Should I be concerned?"

Answer: Yes.

I am sent up to Labor and Delivery at 3PM. I am hooked up to monitors. Given an IV. Checked inside and out. Given a fetal fibronectin test, which will tell us all if I will have Jackson in the next week or two (HOLY SHIT, HUH?).

Turns out, no. Contractions were 3-5 minutes apart, but by the time I left at 8:30PM, they were sporadic at best. Jackson has not dropped, which I knew, because I can still walk. He is head down in the blast-off position. And all is well in the shire. The diagnosis was dehydration.

Soooooo...we know we've got two more weeks of baking the bun. Which is a huge relief. Aaaaaaand...on December 3rd, I will be 37 weeks along. Which means BooBoo can be born anytime after that, and be just dandy.

Bring. It. On.

Eight

Seth's eighth birthday. EIGHTH. Gawd. The Hoover's joined us for an afternoon of bowling, cake, soda, and fun. I couldn't stand it. I had to be a part of it. I weeblewobbled on up and bowled a 113. REEESPECT ya'll.















There was much thunder on our end of the building. The kids launched balls halfway down the lanes, then we all egged them on as the balls crept slowly to one bumper, then the other, then rebounded into the pins. The kids made a few spares. It was most impressive.

Then we had cake:















And opened gifts:















I highly recommend these holographic glasses for everyone. You can get them in the party supply aisle at WalMart. Joe tried them on the night before, paired with some hideous Bubba Teeth. I laughed so hard I peed my pants. Which doesn't take much lately. But whatever. These glasses are a scream.

Here, the adults pair the glasses with "candy sticks." Which is the PC term for candy cigarettes.















And you all KNOW what comes next.

"Hey kids! Ya'll come over and try these on! Put this candy in your mouths! Look real, real mean...OK...hold that pose..."

Past events

First, the good stuff you've all been waiting for. Just how big has Heather gotten? JESUS.

31 weeks...





















And 33 weeks.
























It's ok to be scared of The Belly. It defies all reason and balance.

On to Halloween. Seth was a samurai. Don't call him a ninja. He'll have to kill you. We hit downtown Blowing Rock for trick or treat with Ingrid and the kids. Seth learned about quality, not quantity. What he lacked in volume, he made up for in superior quality of candy. Butterfingers. Snickers. Milky Way DARKS. And Almond Joys! Joy! Yeah, there were some other things mixed in...a tootsie roll here, and Smartie there. But chocolate was the the clear winner.















I wanna be just like these two. I wanna be a skunk next year. I usually go for the slutty policewoman/devil/justplainslut look, but I have been swayed from my skanky ways. besides, skunk is way more "Mom-Appropriate."















Our assorted Jack O'Lanterns:















The one on the left is Seth's own design. I carved the little "BOO" one in the middle. For both, I used a dull paring knife and a steak knife. While carving, I broke a sweat and censored myself repeatedly, for Seth's sake. The one on the right was carved by our friend Luke, for our baby shower (details next). See the baby feet eyes? And the "JJ" in the mouth (for Jackson Jerry)?

The baby shower. Thrown by Kristin and Luke. (Kristin, if you just gave me a minute, I was gonna give you props) . Tons o'food, tons o'loot...Jackson is a lucky little dude.

Frustrated

Yah, I know. It HAS been a while since I've posted. I've been a bit...OVERWHELMED lately. Why, you ask?

Braxton Hicks are kicking my ass. It is hard to walk/bend/wait tables/breathe when your abdomen from crotch to ribcage feels like a rock. Quite often.

Housework. Housework. Housework.

Homework. Homework. Homework.

I'm tired, ya'll.

I know that this diet I'm on is beneficial for all. However, I'm not creative in the kitchen. I am getting incredibly bored with my food choices.

I'm nervous, ya'll. What if I have to have a c-section? What if Jackson isn't healthy? Whatifwhatifwhatif...

I know I am a lush. Those who know me know this, so they won't be surprised when I say I COULD USE SOME WINE. I know...it's OK to have one. I need a bottle.

My support system is my friend Amanda. Thank GOD for Amanda. She lets me vent. She lets my cry hysterically. She lets me be mad, all without judgement.

Laura, if you are reading...I'm about ready for Italy.

OK. Pity party is over.

Photo update

29 weeks. Non-maternity sweater, stretched to full capacity. Can you hear its scream of protest?















Yes, it has come to this. Gestational diabetes has returned, spreading joy and cheer to the land. Only instead of diet this time, it is diet. Insulin. And finger prickin'. Yeehaw ya'll!

I joke. It is not so bad. Wellllll...the pan of double chocolate chunk cookies that Joe was preparing to bake was not well received by me. And the constant snacking at work has been hard to curb (bacon, crackers, croutons, blue cheese dressing, butter tarts, mac n'cheese, hushpuppies, I'mgonnastoptherebecausethereismore...). But OTHER THAN THAT, it's all good.















The new car. She is so nice. *MWAH*















The new house. We are gonna try to stay here for longer than a year.

TRY, I said. Try.

I can hear ya'll snickering...















The Piggie Condo. Luxurious and roomy. Built by Joe. Ramp to the second level coming soon.

Redirect

Go. Go now. To Amalah's post for her son. I know I am hormonal. I KNOW. But the video at the bottom had me crying and snorfling and laughing...and then oh shit the UPS man pulled up. And I had to explain to him that yes, I am OK. It's just this video of this baby...and I'm pregnant (obviously), and...and...

He just nodded knowingly and smiled.

Charleston

We returned from Charleston/Folly Beach this morning. Joe's sis got married.

It was GORGEOUS. We did not want to come home.

Joe: "Look...that house is for rent. Hey...that one is for sale."
Me: "Don't tempt me."
Joe: "Tempt you? Let's just move."

Winter is coming soon. It has been cool and rainy for two weeks now. It was hard to leave that beach. We are staying put for now. But...

Things you should never say to a pregnant woman

Keeping in mind that I have THREE MORE MONTHS to go...

1. "You haven't had that baby yet?"
2. "Twins. Definitely twins."
3. "God, you're HUGE!"
4. "No way you'll get that baby out."
5. "You look like you're about to pop!"
6. "So, due any day now, huh?"

The last comment arrived today. I ate the person's head. It was tragic, but necessary.

I am taking suggestions for clever retorts to these image-boosting comments. In the meantime:

22 weeks...
























And today, 25 weeks...






















Um, I think I'm looking pretty damn good, in spite of all the comments. I LIKE being round. No stretch marks (furiously knocking on wood). Awesome, glowy skin. Not a hell of a lot of weight gain...'bout 15 pounds. Not bad for a 35 year old mamacita.

Geez.

Brief synopsis of the last few weeks.

We found a cool house to rent. Put a deposit on it. Signed off on the other house. Must move by August 31st. Yay! Owner of new house calls and says, "Hey! My neice is going to live in the house. So sorry." Retrieve deposit. Find different house by sheer LUCK. Have hellacious "disagreement" with Joe. All is better.

Get a letter from school about Seth. They want to discuss our options for Seth's classes. Of course, I am worried.

Go to therapy with Joe. Eh. New therapist I do not know, who spent half the hour talking about himself. $135.00 later, we're done.

Remnants of hurricane roll through last week. The week we must move. With a pickup truck and a Honda Civic. While moving, I get pulled for expired tags. I am hungry, wet, and tired from my six-shift work week. Mr. Policeman is an asshole. I start to cry (HORMONES SUCK), Joe pulls up, asks why his pregnant wife is crying in the rain, and we end up with seven good-ole-boy cops harrassing us. Now I'm hysterical, as is Seth. It is straight out of a scene from a movie.

Decide to take Sunday and relax. We all head to town to run errands, eat dinner, get ice cream. The car, as Joe put it, shit the bed on the way home. She basically blew her engine. But, with 207,000 miles on her, it was to be expected.

For dessert, I have a killer head cold. How can one body produce so much snot without shriveling up from dehydration?

So we decided to buy one of these.

It is silver. It is heavenly. And Oh My GOD we deserve it.

Too much on my plate

I might be MIA for a week or two. Here's why.

1. Moving. Again. And I seem to be the official packer. *sigh*
2. Family therapy. For me and Rick. For Seth. For me and Joe. All at separate times.
3. Still working six shifts a week.

Dr. Coward said it sounds like I need a vacation. But. No can do. With Seth starting school on Thursday, and work, and...and...all the other shit going on, vacation is just not happening.

*sigh*

Drum roll puhLEASE!

Jeannemama, sorry to make you wait!

And check out our BOYBOYBOY! He is an exhibitionist already. And squirmy.
















And! Our new due date is Christmas Eve, folks.

Boy. BOY. BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!

Fast Frank

I just wonder. How busy is life when making a hot dog takes too long? So, because of said busy life, you have to buy "Fast Franks," these hot dogs that come already IN THE BUN. Oscar Meyer...always looking out for us.

Then there is the microwave Kraft Mac N'Cheese. Because boiling water is a complicated chemical process? Oh wait, no...it takes too long. That's it. And Lunchables. What the...how does meat stay edible that long, outside of the refrigerator?

I mean, damn.

I forgot

I forgot...

• How HOT it is to be pregnant.
• The kicking-baby feeling. God, it's weird. I received the hardest kick yet, and it made my heart race and my adrenaline blow through the roof.
• What it feels like to have boobs. They get in the way sometimes, don't they? Like when you try to sleep on your side? It was nice to rip the sides out of a bra with the sheer force of boobdom, though.
• How gross maternity clothes can be. They are much improved. But it still makes me want to tear my hair out when I'm shopping. The jeans alone make cry.

From the homefront:

Seth has started therapy with Lynn. He had his second session yesterday, and he is looking forward to the next one. Lynn agrees that Seth has many signs of Asperger's, but will not make a diagnosis right away. To which I agree. And is why I trust Lynn.

Seth is a swimming machine. He is diving, doing flips underwater, swimming across the pool. So my obsessive fear of him drowning has been lessened. A little.

Work. Busy. Crazy busy. BUT! Received a hefty load of a bonus. AND! Put it in the bank.

Monday, August 14th. Ultrasound. Boy or girl ya'll?