Like mother, like daughter.

Sleeping with your ass up in the air, arms folded under you, and snoring comfortably: CHECK.

I ALWAYS sleep like this - don't judge me. Scott has been making fun of me for it for YEARS. This child is more and more like me EVERY SINGLE DAY. I love it!

Meanderings.

My mother is turning 55 years old on Sunday. What does one do for a 55 year old who is bitter about life in general? Throw her a surprise party! The best part - SHE HATES SURPRISES. Tough shit, Jan. You need a pick me up. We are doing it this Saturday, at my cousins house, under the guise of a Labor Day fiesta. She's either gonna love it or hate it, I'm currently leaning more towards the latter. Most of my free time - HA! - is spent planning and plotting this little party. It's only going to be our family, and I've got people cooking a lot of it and bringing it with them. Friday I will run and order balloons from Party City, pick up decorations and whatnot and BAM! Instant party on Saturday.

I'm also working on a photo collage for her as well, just for display purposes, and if she wishes to keep it then great. It's more or less some old photos, some more recent and a few thrown in there for entertainment value. Mainly her nieces and nephews and daughters, and definitely not her or her sisters.


Aside from that, there isn't much else going on here this week. Or rather, there is, but I'm not quite ready to discuss it or type it out. Not to mention, I have not one blessed clue if anyone even reads this. Hello? Any one?

But Why?

This past week, the father of one of my Uncles' passed away. He left behind a wife, 2 children, 4 step children, and 10 grandchildren. 2 of which are my cousins, both boys. They are 13 and 9 years old, and have never experianced loss like this before. The manner in which he passed was terrible and tragic. I won't go into details as to respect the privacy of my family, but suffice it to say that it was very unexpected. It was also fairly painless for him, and he went very quickly.

Today was the wake/funeral services. One of the first things I saw upon pulling up to the funeral home and walking up to the door was a little boy sitting outside crying. Nothing will break your heart more than to see a 7 or 8 year old boy trying desperately to grasp why his Grandpa isn't here and won't be coming home again. I used to think that children didn't quite understand and that wakes and funerals didn't have an impact on them in the same manner that it affects adults. I was proven wrong today, repeatedly. I felt terrible for those poor babies not understanding. I felt terrible for the parents who couldn't quite explain it to them. I saw many many people cry today. I haven't ever seen my cousins cry like THAT though. To see a 13 year old boy walk out of the building after saying goodbye to his grandfather for the last time, and come right over to us - the rest of my family had already exited the building - and just be so willing to lean on your shoulder and let you hug him. He's never like that. My heart broke for him.

Tonight, I came home and told Alexa just how much I love her. The sudden loss of someone near your family really makes you take a step back and reevaluate just how important and special your own family is to you. I wouldn't know how to pick up the pieces and just carry on if it were me in their position right now. I know that I am not anywhere near ready to lose anyone that close to me. I think its time that I started showing my family and friends just how special they are to me, you only get so much time to do so, and I think we all need to take that into consideration and stop worrying over the stupid shit and focus on what we have.

Fast Forward

Well, now that my pregnancy story and Alexa's birthstory, and a few torrid details of the NICU are out of the way, I'm gonna breeze threw my the past 8 months.
Everyone always asks me what surprised me most about parenthood. Truth - how easy I find it to be. During my pregnancy, everyone warned me - you better sleep now! You're on bedrest - enjoy it while it lasts. Alexa is such a calm, complacent baby. Sure, we had 2 weeks of horrendous gas that led to many a sleepless night, but overall, my baby has slept threw the night since we bought her home from the hospital. 2 weeks old - and I was waking HER up to eat in the middle of the night. Many nights, our round the clock feedings weren't a big hit. Plain and simple - Alexa wanted to sleep. By the time she was a month old, the Doctors told me she was gaining weight appropriately, and to stop wasting my time and hers with the night feeds. And once we found the proper formula for her - it was a breeze. Turns out her colicky days were the result of milk sensitivity, poor thing. Soy formula and Mylicon - gifts sent directly from heaven, I assure you. From day one, my child has been a breeze. I do fear sometimes that I'm going to wake up one day to a toddling angry little girl who does nothing but throw tantrums round the clock, but you gotta take the good with the bad.
Alexa gained weight slowly but surely. Every time we go out, everyone comments on how beautiful she is. I, of course, am biased and think she is utterly gorgeous. She has the most amazing blue eyes tho - seriously - see for yourself.

Told you so. Anyway, the point I'm working towards here, is that many people comment on how beautiful she is, and then ask her age. She's 8 months is my current answer, without getting into her adjusted age (6 months). I cannot tell you the number of people who then turn and say, ' She is so SMALL for her age! What's wrong with her!?' Well, nothing is wrong with her, you fuck, mind your business. Oh how I'd love to utter that at least once. Truth is people are amazed at how petite she is, and many people ask a lot more questions after finding out she's a preemie. I don't mind answering, but its also not something I care to rehash repeatedly. She will be 9 months old next week and she weighs maybe close to 14 pounds. She's very small for her age. But she's also right on target for milestones, and is really alot easier to carry around than your average 9 month old.
I find parenthood, at least with my daughter, to be very very easy. She isn't the type to scream all hours, not sleep - hell, she sleeps 12+ hours a night. I know many women are out there wanting to put me in a choke hold for that, and I am sorry. She eats with a verocity I never thought she would have. She smiles, laughs, and is now learning how to sit up unassisted. She rolls around like its her job, and is now exploring EVERYTHING. Next up is operation baby proof your house. I still have her sleeping on the highest level her crib is set for. Alexa is quite possibly the smallest 8 month old I've ever seen. You know the cliche - Good things come in small packages. Its the truth.
She has made the past 8.3months a breeze and a joy, and I can only hope that the next 17 years go as smoothly as the first has gone so far.

NICU

I have read many blogs over the years. Several dealing with infertility, IVF, experiances in the NICU. Those women are my heroes, dealing with situations that don't always have a happy ending. It almost pains me to say that my NICU experiance wasn't terrible at all. Hell, it didn't even really have any terrible moments that made my heart leap out of my chest and question the care Alexa was being given. In all honesty, it was oddly pleasant. I had a wonderful team of Neonatologists for her, and an excellent nursing staff. The hardest moment spent in those nurseries was leaving her there every night, I cried most nights. But I also knew that when she was ready, and not a moment sooner, would I bring her home. St Joe's is known along the East coast for its incredible childrens hospital. I suppose due to the excellent care I had received, I had the utmost faith in the staff of St Joe's on every level. The first time I had laid eyes upon Alexa following her birth was more than 24 hours later. I had a horrible time getting out of bed post op, and swore that I was never going to walk again. Keep in mind I had been in bed for over 60 days at this point, it was like my legs forgot entirely what they're purpose was. My Mom was at the hospital with me since the previous day, she had yet to leave my side. She wheeled me down to the NICU and I was taken to a room where the teeny tiny preemies were. In an incubator, with tubes and wires all over the place, laid my little girl.

I suppose in alot of ways its shocking for anyone to see a baby like that. Most people think of healthy, chubby little ones when they think of a new born. I don't know what a normal pregnancy is like, no less a normal birth. To me, she was beautiful - wires and all. She had yet to even start eating at that point. She was being fed intraveinously all the things she needed. They were going to insert a gavage tube later that day down her nose and throat into her belly to see how well she took to formula. The Doctors told me she was doing very well, not so hot in the maintaining body temperature department, but hey, being born 2 months early takes a lot out of a girl. She was doing well with her sugar levels, breathing without any assistance, and all around healthy for a 3 pounder. That evening, she had her first 4cc's of Preemie Similac, and did well on it. Over a 2 week period from there on in, we worked her up to 60 cc's every 3 hours.

Alexa spent exactly 5 days in the NICU, and 9 days in the intermediate nurseries. She did fantastic, gaining weight slowly but surely after losing some initially. She learned to maintain her body temperature and was taken out of her isolette and put into an open crib within a week, and the Doctors didn't have a bad thing to say about her. She did fantastic for someone so teeny tiny.
On December 13th, she came home. She now weighed 4 pounds 1 ounce. It snowed that morning, the first substantial snow of the year.I dressed her in what seemed to be the smallest velour outfit in the world, wrapped her in a multitude of blankets, and was released from the Intermediate nursery with a clean bill of health, and a list of well, instructions on how to care for my newborn. Before leaving St Joe's that day, I made a stop on Seton 3, and showed all the nurses who took such wonderful care of me the baby we had all worked so hard to bring into this world healthy. I also stopped down in Antenatal - where my daily ultrasounds were done - and showed all the techs my daughter. I ran into Dr. Khoury who actually cried tears of happiness that it all ended so well and she was coming home with me. I left that hospital for the last time that day, after living there for a month myself and coming there for 12-14 hours a day to spend with Alexa for 2 weeks. 6 weeks total of an innumberable amount of time spent there, and worth every single second.

There will never be enough words to say the proper 'Thank you' that I feel everyone at that hospital deserves for the things they did for my daugher and I. They helped give me the greatest gift I will ever receive. I am blessed beyond blessed, God has given me the most incredible, beautiful and amazing baby I could have dreamed of.

Birthday.

A sleepless night, well not entirely. I'm sure that 3 hours constitutes a good nights' sleep the day before your baby is born. I woke up myself around 5:30 on November 29, 2007 - knowing full well that all those nerves and fears about a c-section and birth were about to come into full swing. I knew my Mom and Melissa would be there around 6am, being as that Alexa's delivery was scheduled for 7:30 that morning. Who knew if they would take me early or late? I wasn't a priority case, being as that anyone who came in in premature labor or any other extreme condition could easily bump me out of my OR. My nurse from the night before, Maria, came in to prep me before surgery. Placing a second 'just in case' IV in my other arm, giving me a bag of sugar instead of salt water, and ahem, shaving what need be to prevent any issues during surgery. At 6 my family was there, and by 7:15 they came in to get me. They wheeled a gurney to my room, forced me to don a hospital gown- I had gone 29 days in the hospital without EVER putting one on! - and off we went. I was taken downstairs to the first floor, Labor and Delivery, and put into a pre/post op room. I was given something horrendous to drink to prep my very empty stomach, and in walked the coolest anesthesiologist EVER. I can't remember his name now, but man was he great to have around during surgery.
7:30 rolls around, and Dr. Zaveri and Dr. Bitar walk in to wheel me down. Scott was taken to put on a space suit, I swear that's what it looked like, and I was wheeled into a very cold operating room. My nurses' name for delivery was Carolyn, and she was incredible. When they told me to sit up and lean into her while they prepped me for my spinal block, she was fantastic. And honestly - everyone bitches that the spinal block and the epidurals hurt - bullshit. I felt NOTHING. A pinch, that's literally it. I was laid down and almost immediately my legs and everything from the chest down went numb. It would be HOURS before I could really feel anything again. Jamie Farley - the saint that she is - and sister of my best friend, happened to be interning at St Joe's and conveniently in OB/GYN, walked in to be with me during surgery and while the baby was delivered as well. Scott walked in, my Doctors walked in, and it was go time.
The incision to my belly was made at roughly 8 am. At 8:13 AM on November 29, 2007, I heard the sweetest cry I will EVER hear. After much tugging, pulling, and what felt like rib breaking pressure, we had us a little girl. Alexa Cailyn Barrett was born at 34 weeks 3 days gestation, weighing in 3 pounds 9.8 ounces, 17 inches long, and utterly perfect. She was so incredibly tiny, but perfect. She could breathe on her own, she was pink and screaming, had her eyes wide open like who the HELL told you it was time for me to get yanked out of there, and was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She was taken out to be shown to my Mom and sister, while I was stitched and glued back together. She was taken to the NICU and I was taken back upstairs to 306.
I spent the remainder of that day alternating between throwing up, passing out, and being on one hell of a jittery trip due to all the drugs they had pumped into my body. The morphine made me sick, the anti nausea meds made me feel like I was jumping out of my skin. I didn't feel ok again until very late in the evening. Scott spent time in the NICU with Alexa to check on her. Everyone really got to see her but me. Scott had sent me pictures from his phone to mine of Lexi so I had at least that much to look at.
It was the roughest day of my life, and yet the most incredible. I had done it. 7.5 months of pregnancy, and I had managed to deliver the tiniest little miracle. She was doing excellent, I was doing better, and I could not be more happy or more blessed.

T-minus 24 hours.

Taken the day before Alexa's grand entrance..

I had sat and pondered for a while at that point what it would have been like to have this pregnancy progress normally, without complications and hospitals, and needles, ultrasounds daily, dopplers daily, more IV's than I care to count - the list could go on forever. I had two doctors pick Alexa's birthday for me, she wouldn't be born on her January 4th due date. She would be pulled into the world on November 29th instead. I was so scared that they would be wrong and something would go wrong with her - that she would have under developed lungs, be too tiny or have something else I hadn't thought of wrong. I had spent hours upon hours googling 'birth at 34 weeks gestation', and oddly, every story I had found had a happy endng. Apparently being born at 34 weeks gestation is pretty common these days. Within my 64 days of bedrest I knew that my Doctors had prepped me mentally, physically and emotionally for what was to come. They could more or less predict what would happen now. I knew she would be born at roughly 3 pounds and change. She would be TINY for her gesational age due to the IuGR. Would the steroid shots work? Most likely. Doctors, even Dr's as fantastic as mine were cannot predict everything -they aren't God. I knew I would have a baby in the NiCU - who knew for how long. Would she be home for Christmas? I had A LOT of free time on my hands to ponder the worst and the best possible outcomes. I knew this much - I wanted her healthy. I didn't care by what means it happened, so long as it happened.

I had spent Thanksgiving in the hospital. Ever spend a holiday in the hospital? Its kinda lonely initially. I had a good day tho - they let me up to shower that morning, and I had a ton of company who bought me food galore by that evening. I'm fairly certain I've never been able to pack away THAT MUCH food EVER. It was appalling and amazing all at the same time.

November 28th - the day before. I spent that day paranoid. Asking more questions that I thought I could. I had my regular daily routine that day - wake up and have breakfast, then doppler, downstairs for an ultrasound, and so on and so forth. I was allowed to shower that day because who knew when I'd feel up to it again. I had a really long day and a really long night, tons of visitors and phone calls. Lots to do before my entire life changed. I prayed pretty hard that day for a good outcome the following day. Time would soon tell.

Hospital Bound.

That picture is a week before that ill fated Doctor appointment...
I think I slept for maybe an hour the night before I left for the hospital. I cried alot of the night, out of fear of what was next, out of fear that the baby wouldn't make it. Granted, she hit the point of viability, but so much was already going wrong. I packed two bags before I left that morning. I packed one full of clothes, being as that I planned on boycotting hospital gowns entirely, and a second bag full of books, gameboy, and some other things for entertainment. I had set up for someone to let me borrow a lap top so I wouldn't lose my mind entirely. I left my house around 8:30 that morning, and had no idea I wouldn't walk back into my room for another 32 days. I checked into St Joe's, went up to Seton 3, where I would be calling home for a while. I was put into room S306 -and assigned a nurse named Lori, who would end up becoming one of my two favorite daytime nurses. They put me in a private room, which even I have to admit was nice. I was by myself, had my own bathroom, and was permitted overnight guests. My Mom spent the entire day with me that day, and Scott came that afternoon. They both left around 9:30 that night. I had never been admitted to a hospital before, hell, I'd never been there for myself other than the broken foot incident and the tampon incident - and no, I will not elaborate further on that matter. Once they left, my night time nurse came in. Joella - I really really liked her as well. Being as that I was a high risk pregnancy, but not so high risk that the baby would just fall out, they were in and out when need be. I had IV fluids hooked up, had to have shots of blood thinners everyday, had one ultrasound and three fetal dopplers per day. I saw them often enough, believe me. I honestly became everyone on Seton 3's favorite patient. One does not mess with those who's mercy you are at, I knew that going in. And honestly, they were so good to me. So nice and so sweet and really did care about my health and more specifically the health of my baby.

That first night tho - woo. Rough only begins to cover it. I'd never slept in a hospital. I had a few panic attacks that night, which with my history of anxiety was a given to happen. I did my best to relax, but its hard when your a paranoid mess. Needless to say I made it threw that first night, and the irony of it is when it was time to leave the hospital, I didn't want to. I have to say as well, I was blessed with a ton of visitors. A family that never left my side, my sister stayed there EVERY weekend with me, Scott would stay when I asked him too as well. My Mom spent a small fortune on hospital parking by being there every day. I could call anyone and they would bring me food, so I wouldn't have to just live off of St Joe's food. Even tho, not all of it was bad. I actually enjoyed some of it. I was a very lucky person to have such wonderful people in my life, and I am well aware of it. I grew to enjoy my time at St Joe's. Who else can say that they got to see their baby everyday on an ultrasound? Or got to hear their heartbeat for a half hour three times a day? Sure there were the negatives too tho, the constant flow of Doctors'. I saw two residents,plus my OB, plus my Peri EVERY day. Dr. Ibraham, the one resident, enjoyed waking me up at 5 AM everyday. The nerve. I endured alot of needles, alot of scares with my fluid levels fluctuating horribly. I also knew I was in the best possible place if anything were to God forbid go wrong. There were several times that they came in and told me, well if things don't improve in the next hour or so, we'll be forced to do an emergency c-section. After 4 weeks in the hospital, of them keeping me and the baby stable, Dr Khoury came in and told me that the baby was 'baked enough' so that we wouldn't have to worry anymore about levels and whatnot. I was given two shots of steroids to mature her lungs. I even had the pleasure of an allergic reaction to the steroids. Nothin' says love for yoru baby quite like your skin turning fire engine red and burning. I was told one week before she was born that this was the game plan. I would be taken in for a c-section at 7 am on the morning of November 29, 2007. The countdown began.

How can you complain about doing NOTHING??

Everyone I talked to from that point on said to me, 'But you get to lay in bed all day and do nothing, that sounds great!' Yeah, this is one of those things that sounds fabulous in theory. Have you ANY IDEA how unbelievably hard it is to lay in bed ALLL day and night long? And may I add, I was only allowed to lay on my right side, being as that that's the side that promotes the most blood flow to my uterus and to the baby to ensure as much oxygen as she needed and nutrients. They had a theory that perhaps she wasn't getting enough of what she needed from me, so laying on my right side would promote better flow, and I was also on a very restricted diet, and had to drink as much as a gallon of water a day to constantly replenish my amniotic fluid. I was only getting up to go to the bathroom, or to make myself something to eat when everyone else was at work. I enjoyed the first 3 days, I got to unwind, focus more on what I had to do here, keep that baby inside. I should have mentioned before, that due to the complications I was having, spontaneous birth or miscarriage was a high possibility. After the first week, I was ready to lose it. I had no laptop, and had rigged my computer keyboard and mouse on a table next to my bed, and had to strain to see the monitor. I had a stack of books and magazines, but I read ridiculously fast, so that only lasted so long. I was trying SO hard to stay off of google and search pre-term births. I was entirely aware that if this baby made it to 24 weeks, which she already had, that we hit the point of viability and that she had a small chance of survival. The longer she was in the hole, if you will, the better her chances become. 1 day in the womb is equal to 1 week out, meaning 1 day of in utero development could extend her chances up that high, that it would be like a week of medical life supporting intervention outside.We wanted as little medical intervention as possible, I was keeping that baby in even if it meant corking myself and sitting with my legs crossed for 3 more months.

I had visitors, who would bring me things to do. My friend Holly came with a huge box loaded with puzzles, crossword books, word searches, a coloring book and crayons, play-doh. Any activity that could be done while sitting in bed, I did. I had a Dr appointment two weeks into my bed rest, where Dr Khoury told me that my fluid levels were better, but development was still behind, but only abdominally. She had Asymmetrical IuGR and we would deal with it as it unfolded. So far she was stable, her heart rate was good, her brain development was good, there were no other defects or issues. So I went back home, and climbed back into bed for another two weeks of fun. Halloween was coming, and I love that holiday. Have you any idea how insane a doorbell can drive you and your dog while your laying in bed and children are seeking candy? Yeah, about enough to rip the doorbell off the wall. I carved a pumpkin as well, after Scott tarped my bed and put a giant board over my lap. Ever carve a pumpkin in bed? Its interesting to say the least.

My next Dr appointment with Dr Zaveri went well, overall, I was doing good. Sore from laying so much, but ok otherwise. My follow up with Dr Khoury was on October 31st, and I was beyond nervous. I had grown to appreciate his blunt way with words, because he just laid it all out on the table, and didn't sugar coat anything for me. I went to that appointment on the 31st with Michelle, who was also pregnant. She came and sat in on my ultrasound, and this time the tech wasn't all smiles. I knew something was up, but wasn't sure what. Dr Khoury came in, told me that things were not good, my fluid levels fell again, low enough to cause concern, the IuGR was still a problem, and so far a month of laying in bed hadn't fixed it. Dr Khoury sent me in to have a non-stress test done, and the results were that the baby was doing very well, but my in utero environment was becoming hostile for her. He told me to go home, pack a bag, and the following morning, November 1st, to check into St Josephs Hospital. I was going on hospital bed rest, which is pretty much as serious as it gets. I left his office that day, trying to hold back tears. Pregnancy was supposed to be a wonderful experiance, and mine had yet to be anything but. I was upset, I was scared, I was unsure of what was going to happen next. All I knew is that I was going home to tell my Mom, tell Scott, tell Melissa and then pack my stuff and try to mental prep myself for an undetermined hospital stay.

A funny thing happened on the way home from Boston...

The first few weeks of my pregnancy were great, I felt great. I had no morning sickness, just was overwhelmingly tired all the time. My new boss at my fancy office job was great about it, she would allow me nap time during lunch or additional time if I needed it because I wasn't feeling all that perky. I had landed a job that offered me full benefits, and didn't consider my pregnancy a pre-existing condition. I saw my OB, who deemed my pregnancy great so far, gave me prenatals, and sent me on my way. I went and saw Dr. Zaveri every month, and other than a look of shame for gaining too much too quickly, she thought I looked great, the baby had a strong healthy heartbeat, and that was all that mattered to me. She had sent me for my 18 week anatomical ultrasound, and the tech said everything looked great. We found out that day that it was a GIRL! Which I'll be honest, was what I really wanted. I was ecstatic. Scott had gone with me and had asked the tech to tell us what it was, he wanted a boy, I'm sure, to do all his sports and hunting stuff with. I was a bit surprised when I went to see Dr Zaveri and she told me that I had to go for a second anatomical scan, she said that the girl had forgotten to do some measurements. She gave me the name of perinatologist named Dr. Khoury that she works with, and said that his office was great and that he would make sure it was done correctly this time. I had set up the appointment and the first time I went Dr Khoury told me that the baby was lagging a bit behind development wise, she was 21 weeks but only measuring 19 weeks abdominally. He said he wanted to see me in 2 weeks to see if things had corrected themselves, as they sometimes do. He told me not to worry and I'd see him in two weeks. He's a very brisk, abrupt man and I was a little taken back by the way he said things. Bedside manner isn't his strong point.

The last weekend in September we decided to go up to Boston to visit Jackie and Kevin. My only other pregnancy complaint was the migraines. Oh the migraines. I had one that lasted 2 and a half weeks, solid. I thought I would end up taking an ice pick to my head to relieve the pressure. I had a headache that would top all headaches that weekend, and slept a large portion of Saturday away on Jackies' couch. The boys were working on the house, Jackie had to work, and I slept like the dead. I woke up that afternoon, feeling a bit better. Decided I'd do Jackie a favor and clean up her house while she was suffering at Costco. I scrubbed and polished, did dishes, and was satisfied with it when I was done. We had dinner when she came home, and decided to go into Boston to walk around. We did one of the Haunted Tours, and loved it! We walked around the Fenuil Hall, it was beautiful out that night. We left Boston Sunday night, and got home after sitting in 5 hours of traffic.

I had told work I would be in late that Monday morning because I had to go for my second ultrasound. I went that morning, and had my ultrasound, the girl doing it - who's name I can't remember now - was really very nice, and did a 3D scan for me, so I could literally see the baby and what she looked like. It was amazing. She was roughly 23 and a half weeks gestation. Dr. Khoury came in to talk with me after all was said and done with the technician, and he told me he had some news for me, that the lagging behind hadn't corrected itself, and he felt the baby was suffering from growth restriction. He also said that my amniotic fluid levels were low. He ordered me to go on full strict bedrest, and also ordered more bloodwork than I can tell you. I had 14 vials of blood drawn that morning, for a multitude of tests to determine the cause of the IuGR and low fluid levels. I was tested for blood disorders, clotting disorders, diabetes, poor placental growth, checked to make sure all arteries were present in her umbilical cord. The rest of that blood was tested for things I can't even remember now.

I left his office that morning upset, there was clearly something wrong with the baby, and I now had to break it to my already very understanding bosses that I couldn't come back to work til who knew when. My bosses handled it very well, and I being the panicky asshole that I am, googled IuGR, intrauterine growth restriction, which is what the baby had. I was slighly relieved by what the searches turned out, she would likely go to term, so long as I took it easy and stayed in bed. I left work that afternoon after clearing out some of my things, and went home and got into bed.

The Beginning

I'm going to be posting the story of my pregnancy and Alexa's birth threw out several posts, because its just too long of a story to put in one entry.

Let's go back to April of 2007. I had quit my job at the salon on April 10th, walked out in a blaze of glory, and felt really really good about it. Let's face it, anyone who knows anything about my former employers know that they deserved me leaving like that and screwing them over. I went out with Scott that Saturday to celebrate my lack of employment, and little did I know I would be conceiving my first born that night. All it took was a good meal at my favorite Italian resturaunt and a bottle of wine, but that's neither here nor there. I found out in the beginning of May that I was pregnant, or so said the wonderous EPT. I can safely say that shocked and scared were my first two reactions. I sat on this for about 3 weeks, only telling Jackie about it. I had no idea how to break this to my family, and not one blessed clue how to break it to Scott, who I was sure would either drop dead or cry. I went and confided in a very dear friend, who helped me resolve alot of my worries and alot of my anxiety in more ways than she probably even knows. I was even able to get a free ultrasound out of her, and saw that little blip on the screen, and a teeny tiny heartbeat. That moment changed my life forever, and I knew right then and there that I would be having and keeping this baby, no matter how Scott felt about it.

I chose to tell him on Memorial Day weekend, I was about 7 weeks pregnant, and completely at ease with the situation. I had told my Mom, who did nothing but support me and my decisions. I sat him down, told him that I had to tell him something and that there was no easy way to say it, and I just blurted it out. He got very quiet, and I asked him what he was thinking, and he said he was scared, and unsure how we were going to do this financially. There was never any doubt in his mind we would give this baby up for adoption. Little did we know we were about to embark on one hell of a pregnancy...

New Home

After being on Xanga for a while and strongly disliking their limited options, I've moved over to blogger. I'm going to post my pregnancy story in my own words and carry on from there. Some of it I'll copy over from Xanga, then it will be all original works.

Hopefully this goes better than Xanga did, and hey, you never know - maybe I'll end up joining that wonderful circle of Mommy bloggers that I read daily.