A Child's Prayer

Recently my sister (and next door neighbor) and I have been doing family dinners together. This way, no one has to cook all the time (though, I will freely admit, I have never had to cook once...she tells me it's one of the perks of my being pregnant, and I'm willing to take advantage of her generosity). Her daughters take turns blessing the food, Amaia doing it one night, Ella doing it the next.

When Ella says the prayer, she singles everyone in the room out and asks for a specific blessing on that person for something: "Please bless Uncle Travis, that his cough will get better." "Please bless Daddy, that he'll be safe at school." You get the idea.

Side Note: *****When Amaia was first learning to say her prayers, Chris and Connie had just gotten their first Chihuahua, Sofi. Amaia frequently prayed "...and please bless Sofi, that she won't poop in my room."*****

Two nights ago, this was mine: "Please bless Aunt Kelly, that she'll have her baby and we can all be happy."

Okay, so maybe I need to bring the whining down a notch.

This one's for you, Jules!!!

Okay, so I'm a total blogging slacker. And it's not that I have nothing good to write about. Walker's as adorable as ever and the new baby is growing like a weed making his presence known any time I sit in such a manner as to squish his small home. Between work, Walker, the fatigue of pregnancy, home, Travis, and the holidays, I've let this little section of the internet fall by the way side.

Here are some things I've thought "oh, I should totally blog about that later" about:

• Walker's new found acceptance of his "bruh-zer." He'll now pat my stomach lovingly or lay his head on it to say hi to his upcoming playmate. And, lately, he's taken to giving Brother puppy kisses. Yes, he licks my stomach. I'd feel really weird about it if he didn't giggle hysterically after doing it. I mean, officially, it's still a little creepy, but it's so damned cute!
  
• While at a family function, Walker had the opportunity to interact with two newborns. I was somewhat apprehensive, but my mind was put at ease while watching W run from boy to girl, petting heads and giving sloppy kisses. The little girl began to cry and W rushed over, very concerned. Travis tried to continue the conversation and was sternly reprimanded by his son: "SHHHHH!!! Crying!" as if to say "Look, we're trying to deal with something over here. Could you pipe down??"
• W's little personality is developing by leaps and bounds and we're considering (reluctantly) putting him into a day care that focuses on early education. He loves to play with Travis' cell phone (T downloaded an app that allows W to learn shapes) and is amazingly perceptive and observant, sometimes to a fault. He's a smart little bratsky, but we love him!

So I just realized that all of that is about Walker and now I feel like I'm favoring one child over the other, and maybe I am. It's just that how much can you really say about a kid while he's still in-utero? Baby's doing really well. No, no name has been selected yet, but we do have it narrowed down and hopefully we'll be making an announcement before his Kindergarten graduation.

The pregnancy's going swimmingly. Other than the normal aches and pains (Baby likes to hang out in the "bay window" a lot, causing my gut to hurt), I really have no complaints (though Travis will tell you that doesn't stop me...and he's right). The emotions of pregnancy are starting to take a toll. This is the part where I insert a public apology to my friends and family who bear the brunt of my mood swings. Particularly Travis, who has really been such a loving and wonderful husband, keeping his mouth shut when I'm being irrational even when I'm driving myself nuts. The other day, after I took something someone said (can't even remember now) WAY too personally, I was raving and ranting and he told me he was really sorry and was there anything he could do? "No, just give me 20 minutes and I'll be having a whole other emotion." Poor guy.

At any rate, that's life in the Tabbal house for you. Christmas cards were dropped in the mail this morning (yeah, I know...I've been really tired, okay??), so they should be arriving shortly. I hope everyone has a very happy holiday and I hope to see you all soon!!!

I'm Pregnant with Son No. 2!!!

Giving us the thumbs up in utero.

As many of you already know (and most wish I would just shut up about it already), I'm having boy number two sometime around the beginning of February. I can't wait! Yes, it was somewhat of a surprise, but still, THRILLED.

After a doctor's appointment last week, my due date was moved up a week, putting me in the "yeah, we can probably see what you're having now" zone, so I hastily scheduled an appointment at Fetal Foto and we found out Monday that Walker's going to have a baby brother. I was absolutely positive it was a girl, and thought for certain that I would be disappointed if it wasn't, but when I saw the tech pass over his "area" and caught a glimpse of the goods, a little jolt of excitement went through me. When she confirmed it, I almost cried. I'm sure I would have had the same reaction had he been a she. Really, I don't care. I'm just excited. Now for the daunting task of coming up with a name. Suggestions are welcome!

'Cause he's cool like that.

In other news, Walker's become quite the little chatter box. He'll talk in his own little language and then throw out real words at random. And there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the words he can say. Among them: cookie, broke, Melmo (for Elmo), grass, bird, duck, juice, mommy, daddy, Unck (for his Uncle Chris), Lella (for Ella), and MaiMai (for Amaia). And he's spoken his first sentence! Some children say "I love my Mommy" or "I want Daddy." My kid? "Oh, it broke" after squishing a chip on his tray. And this morning we got sentence number two. While getting ready for work, we turn on the TV and let him watch a little something. This morning the selection was Sesame Street, to which he said reverently "I love Melmo." So freakin' cute!!!

Coming to a Sad Realization

Last night I listened to the baby's heart beat with our rented doppler monitor (worth every penny) and counting the beats, making sure the baby was okay. Why, you ask? Since I began feeling him move a few weeks ago, I've been religiously paying attention to when he wiggles and when he doesn't. Usually, if I'm laying down trying to relax, he's up and ready to play. Which is fine with me, since I love feeling him move and he's still small enough that the kicks are cute rather than painful or obnoxious. For the past few nights, though, when I'm laying in bed waiting to drift off, he seems to be peacefully sleeping, because he's no longer kicking me furiously.

So I was just sure there was a problem. Hence the counting of the heartbeat and listening for anything abnormal. 'Cause if I actually HEARD anything abnormal, I'd be able to identify it right away. You know, because of all those pregnancy books I have.

This morning, as I was leaving for work, Trav put his arms around me and started talking to my belly to say good morning to the baby (an adorable little ritual that began a week or two ago after Travis felt the first definite movement). This time, though, rather than just the "Good morning, baby! Be good! Daddy loves you!" that usually accompanies this bonding between father and son, there was this little gem: "And make sure you kick Mommy a lot, 'cause she worries. Now you and I both know that there's nothing to worry about, but she can't help it. So really kick today, okay?"

And that's when it hit me: in 16 short weeks, I am going to be outnumbered in this house and they're already plotting against me.

It's a boy!

Travis and I found out a few weeks ago that we're having a little boy. We are so excited! Not that we wouldn't have been just as happy with a little girl. I've had a lot of people saying "oh, aren't you SO glad to be having a boy first!?" or "I would much rather have a boy than a girl!" Personally, I'm just glad we're able to have one that's healthy. I ceased being picky as soon as the first pregnancy went south. Healthy became my only priority. But so far it looks like we're on track: the integrated screening came back completely normal, and his spine has closed beautifully (according to an ultrasound tech).


We go in next week for our "medical ultrasound," which will check the baby's organs to be sure they all developed correctly. This will be our 7th ultrasound. Someone was saying "you're so lucky! I wish I had gotten to see the baby that often." I thought "yeah, lose one and then have some jacked up, bizarre pregnant but not situation and they'll pretty much give you as many as you want." I have to admit, though, it has been fun seeing the baby so much. I love watching how much he's grown and changed. It's fascinating to me how it all progresses from a little blob to a little person. So much so that two of the ultrasounds were at Fetal Fotos because I just couldn't wait to find out what he was. The first time he was cooperative, but his umbilical cord was not. The second time he was more than happy to let us see that he was, in fact, a boy. It was so clear that both Travis and I, who can rarely pick out the baby in the Magic Eye picture (think Rachel on Friends), could CLEARLY see that he was a he before the tech even said "well, we definitely have a boy here!"

I don't know if you've noticed or not, but I find myself being obsessive about the pregnancy, the baby, etc. There are two other women here at work who are pregnant and they seem to be able to function in society without making everything about crib sets and fetal development. I asked one of the other Preggies how far along she was (which was a total rouse...I know full well she's a little over 8 weeks ahead of me, but I had to bring up my new obsession somehow) and she had to stop and think about it. THINK ABOUT IT!! I can tell you practically down to the millisecond how far along I am: 19 weeks, 2 days, 16 hours, 41 minutes. Okay, so I made up everything but the hours and minutes. But I'm just saying! You had to pause and think?! I can't WAIT for Wednesdays to roll around so I can get on babycenter.com and see where the baby's development is now or get out one of my 5 pregnancy books (didn't even buy a-one...4 given to me, completely unsolicited, and one borrowed) to see what's happening and what there is to pay attention for.



Apparently I should be able to feel the baby moving consistently soon. I say consistently because for several weeks now I think I've been feeling him. Every now and again I feel like there is a little bubble popping in my stomach. Rumor has it that's probably the baby, but who knows? I have no idea what I'm supposed to be feeling for. But I can definitely feel the results of his movements. Suddenly I'll have to rush to the ladies room because he's shifted onto my bladder (thank heaven he can still shift off), or I'll feel a little lopsided because there's pressure in the left side of my abdomen and 10 minutes later, he's all on my right side. I figure those are all very good indicators that I'll feel his little movements all the time very soon.

16 weeks!

Today we're officially 4 months pregnant! Honestly, I never thought we'd make it this far, but I'm SO excited we have!

Yesterday we made our first pilgrimage to Fetal Fotos to see if they could determine the baby's gender. Baby was actually quite cooporative and was in "the perfect position to find the sex." Unfortunately, the umbilical cord was not nearly as cooporative. After a half an hour of rolling onto one side or another, jiggling my belly and generally irritating the baby to see if it would kick the cord out of the way, we had to admit defeat. Fortunately the wonderful rad tech at Fetal Fotos gave us a voucher to come back in a week and try again.

So was I disappointed? Not really! No opportunity to see the baby could ever possibly be disappointing to me! We saw it's little spine very clearly and even got to watch it swallow some amniotic fluid (eew!!). It rubbed it's tiny face with a miniature fist, and kicked it's little feet. I found it very exciting. And now we get to do it again next week! Woo hoo!!

On the way home I started wondering which I would prefer. I came to the conclusion that I'm not really lying when I say either would be fine with me. I think of all the perks of having a little girl and get giddy with excitement. Then I think of all the bonuses that would come with a son and can hardly wait. The only downside to this attitude is that if it's a boy, I'll be a little bit bummed that it's not a girl and if it's a girl, I'll think of all the things I'll miss out on if it had been a boy. There's just no pleasing me!! But I have to just keep remembering that we have every intention of having more than one, so I don't need to have everything at once.

These days I can feel my uterus, which is kinda weird. I feel like I swallowed a volleyball that got stuck three quarters of the way through! But I figure that means I'm mere moments away from feeling the little alien move in me, which will be completely surreal. I have a sneaking suspicion that it's gotta feel like that scene from Alien when the baby alien tears out of that guy's stomach. But it will be OUR alien, so I think that'll make it all worth it!

So at long last and after much ado....

I'm PREGNANT!!!

When we found out we were pregnant...again...the doctor ordered an ultrasound to make sure that we didn't have another "pregnant but not" situation. The ultrasound tech had the personality of a wet mop and argued about "what exactly does your doctor hope to see???" How about a viable pregnancy, Witch Woman?!??! Now look in my tummy! She was much nicer once she saw Travis' and my reaction. She even printed the above picture for us, which now we kind of chuckle at. The yolk sac is bigger than the baby! But a baby was there, none the less, with a heart rate of 114...MUCH better than the first time. We were cautiously optimistic.

It was this ultrasound I was dreading, because this was the point during the first pregnancy when there was nothing there. But our blob had grown and the heartbeat was still present and accounted for!! The doctor didn't have a guage to see what the exact heart rate was, but she estimated that it was going at "at least 150 beats per minute." This was also the ultrasound that earned the baby the nickname "Blobbie." Okay, yeah, not really nice. But, come on. It's a little blob! A damned cute blob, if I do say so myself.

I found online after this ultrasound that once you've seen a strong heart beat (which we didn't the first time), then your chances of miscarriage go down to 2%. I don't know if that's true, but it made me feel better, so I ran with it.

This is our baby during a completely unexpected ultrasound. I was having the integrated screening to rule out a myriad of different birth defects and thought I was only getting blood drawn. Poor Travis wasn't even there. The point of getting this ultrasound was to look at the fluid on the back of the baby's neck to rule out Down's syndrome. Stubborn little thing woudn't roll over, though. So they looked every way they could, jiggling my tummy (that'll make you feel pretty) to get it to change positions, and it would just wiggle around disgustedly and settle right back into it's soft little spot on my cervix. Okay, so I don't know that it was disgusted, but since I'm growing it, I get to apply little personalities to it. And let's face it: it's a Walker-Tabbal hybrid. Trust me, it's stubborn. Heart rate at this appointment was 162. So far so good!

And now we're at 14 weeks. Sadly, no new ultrasound pictures. In lieu of pictures, though, we've rented a fetal doppler and can listen to the heart beat whenever we want, provided, of course, that our stubborn little one will move out from behind my placenta and then hold still long enough for me to find it!

My own pathetic delusions of grandeur

Ah, the joys of trying to reproduce and the mysteries of the female body. For about a week at the end of March, I thought I was pregnant again. After the miscarriage in January, my doctor thought it would be prudent to check my hormone levels with the new pregnancy to be sure that they were rising at the proper rate. Unfortunately they were not, and she thought that we probably had an ectopic pregnancy. After much ado, including having my blood drawn five times in one week and an ultrasound by a radiologist who should NEVER be allowed near a vagina ever again, they decided that there were some cells making up a non-viable pregnancy somewhere in my person, though not in my uterus, and that I would need a few shots of chemotherapy to kill the cells and make sure that they didn't spontaneously start growing, potentially rendering my infertile, if not kill me. And since death was not on my to do list, I figured, okay, let's get the shots.

My own personal opinion was that I was not actually pregnant again, but rather that there were a few leftover "pregnancy cells" that didn't get removed in the D&C and were still wreaking havoc with my hormone levels. Alas, no. The doctor assured me Friday that, after the miscarriage, I had gotten "pregnant again, but not." You'll notice the quotes around that last statement. That's a direct quote from a medical professional. "Pregnant again, but not."

How the hell does THAT work? you may be asking yourself. It was a question that sprang from my mouth before I found a nice, tactful way of saying "what the fuck?!?!?" Apparently I'm a medical anomaly. She said that what probably happened was that an egg was fertilized, but never attached anywhere in my body, but also never left the body, so it just floated off into the abyss that is my abdominal region. It was fertilized, thus pregnant, but since it never attached, not.

Huh. Okay then. So I asked if this was considered another miscarriage. Nope. Pregnant, but not. The whole situation made me feel strangely happy. If it never attached, I was never pregnant, therefore I'm not confirmed broken yet, and hopefully we can continue on to have a happy healthy baby one day soon.

During the whole Pregnant But Not Pregnancy Extravaganza, I became somewhat of a regular with the phlebotomists in the lab. After the 5 Draw Week, the chemo shots, and the subsequent blood work that confirmed the hormone levels were dropping (two draws that week, once in Phoenix), the doctor wanted to monitor the numbers to be sure they continue to drop, so I've had to go in once a week to have blood taken. Friday after my appointment I stopped in for my weekly visit. Tuesday morning's been my usual vist time, but last week it just didn't fit into the old schedule. So Friday afternoon, I stopped in to find a whole new staff works in the afternoons. Okay, no worries. I'm sure they're capable folk. But here's the alarming part. When the gal called my name, she said "oh, we were wondering if you were coming in this week!" Then two other phlebotomists, two that I had also never seen before, poked their heads into the room to take a look. Then they all looked at one another as if to say "Oh, so THIS is that Tabbal woman who's in here ALL THE TIME."

What the hell?!?! Have I become some kind of Phlebotomist's nightmare? I've now gained a spot in Hypochondria Folklore?! And then this morning when I called to get the results of my test, the office voicemail system no longer has the option to speak to the nurse. Have I been driving them all so crazy that they have altered office protocol in a vain attempt to avoid me? Have I become that woman, the one that you dread seeing walk through the doors of your office? The one that causes all employees to scatter like roaches when the light turns on?

I feel like going into their office yelling "I'm NOT crazy!!! I'm pregnant, but not! My hormones are all over the board!" 'Cause THAT wouldn't make them think I'm nuts.

Babies On My Mind

Here are a few pictures of Trav with my friends' babies.


This one is the son of one of my oldest and dearest friends, Emily (Travis is the one making the baby smile and smile). They waited 9 years to get little Miles, and I think we can all agree it was worth the wait! Their experience with trying to get pregnant makes me feel pretty guilty for getting frustrated with no pregnancy after only 4 months of trying.


This tiny one is the daughter of another of my dear friend's, Rachel. Madeline is getting so chubby it makes you smile just to look at her.

Seeing how wonderful Travis is with babies only reaffirms my love for him. Not only is he the best husband I could have ever hoped for, but I know he's going to be the perfect father for our children. I can't wait to give him babies and watch him care for them, though I know I'll need to cherish the nine-month pregnancy, since, after they're born, I won't be able to get them away from their Daddy long enough to hold them again. :)

My boss' son is in Vietnam right now adopting a beautiful little girl. I know that, in the even that we can't get pregnant (yes, I know I'm jumping the gun after only four months, but I like to have plans for every situation...better to be safe than sorry...that's my policy), there are millions of little ones out there that need good parents. Hell, we could even get a little brown one to match Trav!! They'd be lucky to get a daddy like Trav!

Big Love Season Finale

So Travis and I finally watched the Big Love season finale last night. I must admit I've been pleasantly surprised by this show. Originally I thought "Oh, great! More ammo for those idiots of the world who think that Mormons still practice polygamy and have horns!" But it's been really good.

The thing that's surprised me most about it is the protective nature that's risen in me toward the polygamist family in the show. I mean, if everyone's a consenting adult what difference does it make if they want to live a polygamist lifestyle? I don't think I could do it...I'm far too selfish...but if someone else wants to, who am I to tell them that it's not okay? Hell, polygamy is much more prevalent in nature than monogamy, so why shouldn't humans participate if they so choose?

What I find REALLY strange is how in our society it's okay for men to have sex and father children with various women and then walk away from the situation, giving neither emotional or financial support to the women or their children. But if the man decides to provide for the women and children and all the women are adults and okay with it, it's morally WRONG for him to commit to taking care of his multiple families. Seems a little off in my mind.

Of course, then you get the Roman Grant's of the world who marry off 13 year old girls to 87 year old men who then sit on welfare for years and years rather than getting a job and trying to support their families and it just ruins it for the group. But really, who's going to hire an 87 year old perv for a decent wage? And the 13 year old can't get a job, since she's not old enough and already knocked up with Perv's 62nd child. Or there is the man who have multiple families in different cities and it's not until he dies do the various families find out about one another.

And what about the woman in the show who decides that it's up to her to "save" Bill and his wives from sin? What is THAT about?! Mind your own business, you self-righteous bigot!! I just don't understand why people can't live and let live when it comes to other's personal lives. No, I don't want to be a polygamist. I don't want to be a lesbian either, but I'm not going to judge someone who lives either of these lifestyles. Sure, send Perv and Roman Grant to prison. But not for polygamy, but rather for child molestation and what basically amounts to prostitution (on Roman's part).

Alright, I'm climbing down off my soap box now. Sorry to get off on a tangent!!! Trav and I have finally posted our Hawaii pictures online, if anyone's interested. http://www.tabbal.net/blog/wp-gallery2.php?g2_itemId=6750 You can tell how early/late in the trip it is by how stoned I look in the picture. The more stoned the appearance, the later in the trip, as it was very tiring. But, no, no Maui Wowi on our trip. Just lack of sleep that was well worth it. Eventually we're going to post our trip journal, in the event that anyone is bored enough to read it. :) It's long and we were just doing it for ourselves, but thought "What the hell?" There aren't any descriptions on the pictures yet (haven't gotten that far), but I plan to put a little something on each of them eventually.