Ava goes crazy

So... Ava is crazy. We are visiting family in Chicago as I begin a blitzkrieg marathon of wedding planning, and she just loves this exersaucer. What a goof. A cute one though!

AHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

I'M ENGAGED!!!!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it's finally happened! For those of you who don't keep a close tab on the tap dance that has been the post-pregnancy proposal boogie, let me catch you up to speed...

Ok, so I, near our three year anniversary in November, began to wonder when something shiny would be making it's way on to my ring finger. I love Adam dearly, but after a month of hints and the subsequent oblivious head nods, I realized that subtlety would not be cutting it. I started to flat out say that the best Christmas present would be a proposal... to no avail. He said it would come sometime in January... and again in February... and I found myself close to giving up hope.

Finally, last weekend, I decided to make it crystal clear. I said, "I don't care if you marry me or leave me, but do it by next Friday!"

We both knew I wouldn't really leave, and he responded by chuckling and whining, "But Lauren, I'm just trying to find a romantic way to do it!"

Steam came out of my ears as I muttered, "Adam, you've waited too long. Romance is dead. I don't care if you throw it at my head, just do it! We'll make the wedding romantic."

I showed him exactly which rings he could choose from, but didn't hold out hope for him to deliver. A little bit of snooping led me to believe, several days later, that he had bought a ring, but I could never have anticipated the level of thoughtfulness and romance that he pulled out.

This afternoon, we went to our favorite restaurant- a romantic Mediterranean place calld "The Bistro." Despite my irritation with their new bread policy ($2 for 4 pieces after your first basket?!?!), the food was delicious and the company divine. Ava even stayed well behaved. Afterwards, we went for a drive down memory lane, becoming nostalgic over all we had experienced together after three and a half years. The drive stopped at the top of Western's hill, where we got out to enjoy the weather and go for a walk.

This may not sound like a big deal to some of you, but anyone who knows our background knows better. When Adam and I first got together, in the midst of a sordid storm that seems to have taken place a lifetime ago, I was the biggest insomniac. I would go for walks to the top of the hill at 2 and 3 in the morning. What started out as platonic concern for a freshman friend walking by herself evolved into romantic moonlit strolls that set the foundation for our entire relationship. Each walk would end with us sitting on the steps of Van Meter Hall, looking out over the hills of houses and streetlights below.

In front of Van Meter is where our walk stopped today as well. Adam stared grumpily at the construction blocking our access to the steps as we sidled over to a patio in front of the building that gave a similarly lovely view. After showing Ava the sights, Adam tossed me the diaper bag to hold.

"Is my cell phone still in here?" I wondered aloud, unzipping the front pouch. Before Adam could stop me, I saw it: a polished wooden ring box. I looked up, slack-jawed.

"Is this what I think it is?"

A grin spread across his face as he shifted Ava in his arms.

"Well, you weren't supposed to open it, but since you did..." he droped to one knee, balancing Ava on his bent leg. "Lauren, I love you more than anything. I love Ava. I love our little family, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry us? Me and Ava?"

Tears streamed down both of our faces as Ava stared, perplexed by the eyes behind them.

"Yes!" I cried, jumping into his arms. The ring above was slid onto my finger, and let me tell you, pictures don't do it justice. He did good. Real good.

To answer some of the questions I've heard thus far, YES! I'm excited and happy and blown away! No, we don't have a date yet (I'm still remembering how to breathe). More information to follow, but WOW, what a day!

Ava wanted to say hi

Amy Grant comes to mind

Agh. Things have been... hectic. We recently held auditions for AFA slots (by recently, I mean today). I'm trying to keep up in classes/figure out my future, and Ava is so much more mobile these days... I'm exhausted. In a good way.

First, AFA auditions (quick fill-in if you're confused: I do speech and debate, or competitive public speaking, and AFA is a national chamionship tournament where you can only send 66 entries. Our team has a lot more than that, so it's super competitive to get those slots). I did not get the event I auditioned (Poetry), but I did get Prose, Impromptu, Extemp, Persuasion, and Crit (translation: that's good). I'm very excited, not only for what I get to do, but to be on a team as competitive, but loving, as this one! *singing off key* We are family...

*Resuming not singing.* Ok, so my life... I recently had decided to move back to Chicago. The decision was not an easy one, and I still want to go to graduate school, but financially, it just makes a lot more sense to go ahead and move near family who can help iwth the whole daycare component. However, just as we were settling into this idea, I get a job offer. I won't go into specifics, but the important part is that it would have given me a great amount of control over my work, a lot of opportunities to coach and travel, and a fantastic resume builder. As cool as that would have been, I think I'm going to have to turn around. We just really need to pay off those student loans before I go off being self-indulgent. Sigh.

Ava! Oh Ava. She is truly the bright spot in all of this madness. She's sooo strong. She sits up all by herself these days, and her favorite activity is knocking down towers of blocks that Mommy builds up for her. She is teething in a big way, but no pearly whites have popped through yet. Her favorite foods are bananas, peaches, pears, applesauce, carrots and sweetpotatoes. She's recently tried an apple/chicken blend, and found that appetizing as well. However, her favorite things to munch on are often the things she shouldn't. This makes me very nervous for our family trip to Mexico this summer. The sand on the beaches won't know what's hit 'em... In the meantime, I give her biter biscuits to gnaw on. It's a mess, but it's a quiet mess, and that's what Mommy needs these days.

I SWEAR I'll have pictures up soon. I'm remembering how to breathe at the moment. Once I've mastered that, I'll move on to photography. Speak of the devil... Ava hollers. Ta ta!

Doctor, doctor, gimme the news...

So, the good news: Ava's good. She has a severe cold which has led to runoff that gives her a sore throat, impacting her appetite. Now she's just sucking down the grape flavored Pedialyte and small bottles. She's in a surprisingly good mood with those sniffles. Even the doctor said, "She can't be that sick; look at that smile!" Way to make Mommy look like a liar, baby girl.

Still, there was some bad news. While Ava bug will be just fine, I'm on antibiotics and decongestants with severe sinus and right ear infections. Yay!!! Blech. I feel like crap, and am gearing up for a tremendously hectic week. Between missed classes, classes that haven't registered yet, and impending AFA auditions (gulp), I'm more than a little stressed. Hopefully I can get back on my feet before permanent damage is done.

YAY! and nay...

Woo Woo! KF-YAY! Well, it's over and done with, and the results were exciting. The team won by... well, a lot. I won Pentath and am now the Kentucky State champ in extemp :)

That's all the good news I have for today. Why? Because Ava and I are both miserable. We both have terrible colds with the worst runny noses and hacking coughs. She's off to the doctor tomorrow afternoon if she isn't any better in the morning. For those of you who have never had to operate a nose squeegee... you have no idea...

Ok, back to nursing my own pathetic self. Sigh.

Smile Pretty!

Last night, leaving Walmart, Ava let out an exuberant squeal just as we hit he exit. Her eyes were fixated on something, and as I turned, I realized that she was staring at a sign at the portrait studio, where one could get 30 portraits for $5.99 until Saturday. I thought to myself, "Wow, I really do have a genius infant. She thinks of everything!"

Ok, so maybe she was staring at the shiny balloons, but I still thought it was a good idea to get her 6 month old self commemorated in a too cute for words portrait, so I got to work. I dressed her in this adorable denim jumper with pink and yellow detailing and matching bloomers with a long sleeved white onesie and white tights. I pulled her crazy hair into a a waterfall pony tail on the top of her head and, voila, instant adorable!

When we got to the portrait center, we had to wait a little bit to get in, but that was ok by Ava bug! She just waved and talked to anyone who passed by, flirting with the guys and squealing and laughing with the girls. When it was finally our turn, I was just hoping she had some smiles left! And did she ever...

So the deal with the $5.99 package was that you could only pick one pose. It was 30 pictures of various sizes, but only one pose. Originally, I figured that was fine, but lemme tell ya... this kid is SO photogenic... I had the hardest time picking one! In fact, I was so conflicted, I did buy an extra sheet for ten dollars (I know, I'm such a sucker). They'll get in on March 6th, and I can't wait! I'll scant them in and post them so all of you can see :)

Well, I'm off to KFA tomorrow. Wish me luck!

What's Up

I have decided that my home is the place that energy goes to die. I go up to the office, and I'm feeling great, I'm on a buzz, I'm ready to work. I come home, and suddenly, I'm more sleepy than Ava is when we go for a drive. All of my best intentions fall to the wayside. I'm starting to come to terms with the fact that my home will never be pristine. It will be clean and sanitary, but flawless? No. Sigh.

In other news, preparation for KF-Yay was stepped up today. KFA is the Kentucky State Championship for speech and debate. It's a good time, but it's a different type of competition than we're used to seeing, and will certainly require a lot of adapting from our debaters. I have faith in them though. Different doesn't mean bad- just different.

Grandma Nelson is in the hospital right now (mine, not Ava's). She was admitted several days ago, but I don't think I'm really... dealing with it right now. The timing is just so similar to Grandma Schmitt last year, and I don't think I could deal with it if... ok, no, not thinking about it... but you get the point. It's congestive heart failure, which sounds a lot worse than it is, but she also has blood clots in her lungs. She hasn't taken very good care of herself, and I worry so much about her :( There's not much I can do but pray and stay busy.

Next Wednesday is Ash Wednesday. Now, those of you who know me know I'm not very religious. I have my beliefs, but I'm just not very public or loud about them. I had an unpleasant taste in my mouth over the Catholic Church post-confirmation, and still have my misgivings about some Church doctrine, but I think I will probably attend mass with Ava. Though Adam and I will probably have to talk about it some more, and despite my wariness of catechism classes, I am leaning towards enrolling Ava when she comes of age. What she believes will fall to her, but at the very least, an education in Christianity, and in particular, the Bible, holds immeasurable academic value (how many biblical allusions did YOU discuss in your school years?).

But I digress. With Ash Wednesday comes Lent, and with Lent, a sacrifice. I've been mullling over what I might want to give up. I'm still contemplating. I'm leaning towards soda, but it is so cliche. I'm also considering giving up Facebook, but I don't know if I could do it. We'll have to wait and see. I do have a few more days to decide.

As a side note, I am SOOO excited that I am not going to be travelling for Ava's first Easter! I was never huge on Easter as a holiday, but little girl dresses with frills and tights and shiny shoes and bonnets.... I cannot WAIT! It will be tremendously adorable. Adam's not a big Easter guy either, but I will twist his arm into participating. He'll thank me for it later :)

Ok, that's all for now. Much love folks!

Update

Wow. I feel as though someone is pressing the fast forward button on my life. Not the, "fast-forward-so-fast-I-don't-know-what-happened" but like the "2x-fast-forward-so-I-barely-keep-up." Now, usually, I would reference how stressed I am over it, and to be fair, there is stress, but by and large, I'm happy. Part of that may have to do with decisions being made, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

First, I'm finally kicking my own butt. I haven't missed a day of exercise in the past seven, and I couldn't be more proud of myself. Sure, my measly handful of pounds seems like small potatoes when I tune into Biggest Loser every week, but then I remember that I have a kid I'm taking care, class to go to, work to do, a house to keep, and the need to sleep sometime during the day. I don't have a 24 hour gym, trainer, and specially cooked meals at my disposal. So, given 5 lb weights, a basic exercise routine in my living room, free online cardio tapes, generic slimfast and Smart One meals... I think I'm doing just fine :) Not that I'm totally satisfied yet. I have a long way to go, but I feel like I can do it. I'm the little engine that could...

On top of that, I'm taking better care of myself overall. I think part of my low morale is that I didn't feel like myself. So, I took charge. It started with Adam encouraging me to go get a pedicure on Valentines day. I think he may have gotten more than he bargained for. I got a pedicure, my hair cut, all over blonde highlights, and used some sunless tanner when I got home. Now, granted, I probably should have paused to remember the proper technique for applying said sunless tanner, but blotches aside, I feel a lot more like my old self. When I told my mom this, she asked, "What's wrong with the new you?" It took me a second to verbalize it, but I realized: it was confidence. I wasn't confident in my outward appearance, and it was killing my self-esteem, slowing me down. Like I said, I'm not quite where I want to be, but I'll be damned if I don't get there. I won't completely abandon my faithful sweatpants and sloppy buns, but you will all be seeing a more polished version 80% of the time (ok, maybe 75).

Plus, I feel like things are getting sorted out. Though nothing has been absolutely set in stone yet, plans have been sketched, the paper thrown away, and the chisel is poised and ready for action. It looks as though we may be moving to Chicago. Don't get me wrong, I really, really want to go to grad school, and WILL get my Ph.D. one day (hopefully before 30), but any stipend isn't really going to be enough right now.

In addition, being closer to my family means we don't have to worry about daycare. I am blessed to have the majority of my immediate family within a 20 mile radius, and a fair amount of them with flexible schedules. While part of me wishes we could get Adam back to Houston, because I know how much he misses his family, I just am not comfortable with putting Ava in daycare when she's so young (too many horror stories). This may not be permanent, but it will be a good starting place for us.

Jobs have not been settled yet, since the tenative decision has been recently made. However, it's likely that Adam will try to stay with his current job. He's going to try to enter a management training program in early spring here, and then transfer into a Chicago location. I have a few options I'm considering, but nothing concrete. We'll likely move in with my parents in the very beginning, just until we save up enough for the security deposit on a place of our own (even the suburbs are expensive!).

I realized today that there are SEVEN WEEKS UNTIL AFA!!! Phew, that was a kick in the pants. The minute the revelation hit, energy began coursing through my body. I am READY for this. I don't even know what, if anything, I'm taking yet, but the team component has my adrenaline going. I have never been part of such an amazing group of people, and I am so proud and humbled to be a part of this team. This is my last of eight years of competition, and I want to go out with a bang. Ready or not, here I come...

Finally, I'm about to graduate. I had kind of taken this fact for granted coming in to college, and truthfully, even up until recently. But the kind words of a few in the past couple of days have made me reflect on how crazy it is that I'm graduating on time with a six month old.

Speaking of Ava, WOW. She's HUGE! I mean, in Ava terms. She's 16 lbs, 26 inches. Compared to some other chillens I know, that's tiny, but compared to the tiny little fairy we brought home from the hospital, she's a giant. Her smile is contaigous, her laughter, infectious, and her sense of wonder, inspiring. I am beginning to realize that my daughter will be the greatest teacher of my life.

Ok, so that's the update. Part of my hope for the next few months is to update this blog regularly. I know I've promised it in past, so I won't promise again, but perchance we can get some pictures of Miss Ava Veronica on here sometimes soon.

Much love to all!

Crunching the Numbers

Man oh man. I'm exhausted. Not like, I'm about to fall asleep exhausted, but mentally drained. I sometimes feel like this 21 year old juggling act is finally taking a toll on my stamina. I'm currently researching graduate programs, attempting to pay down some debt, trying to keep the house clean, keeping up with baby, preparing for the big districts tournament and hoping I don't lose my mind.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm big on plans. Unfortunately, I feel as though someone has stolen my pen and notepad and tied my hands behind my back. There are too many variables in this equation for me to start planning anything, and it is more depressing than you know. Sometimes I wonder if it would just be easier to put the whole grad school thing on hold and open up a daycare center from my home. I mean, that way Adam could work where ever, and we wouldn't have to find someone to stay with Ava... Agh.

Honestly, I think it's just a control thing with me. I haven't felt very in control for a while now, and anything that would offer me that comfort is appealing right now. Alright, well before I sell my soul for a song, I'm off to bed. Hopefully Ava will cooperate.

Ready... Set... Go!

AVA IS CRAWLING!!! I know, I know, no clever lead in or anything, but sometimes the news is so big that pleasantries seem trite. SHE'S CRAWLING!!! Now, granted, this is my child after all, which means she's doing it in her own style. Leave it to someone from my gene pool to go against the grain...

So we're getting ready for bed, and I admit, I still keep her in the bed with me. (Before the lectures begin, don't worry, we have trained ourselves to not roll anymore, so that's not a problem. And really, if you talk to most of the mothers in your life, they'll tell you they often did the same thing. It's just easier to pop a pacifier into the mouth of the screaming baby next to you than the screaming baby in the other room.) In any case, we're trying to get to sleep, but Adam gets kind of baby starved being at work all day so he's kind of messing with her and soon she's gone to the crazy baby land of no return, laughing and kicking around. Well, we turn off all lights, hoping she'll settle down, but of course she doesn't, and I can feel her wiggling next to me. I feel her roll over (which she's been doing sporadically anyways) and I wait to hear her cry out in frustration.

I wait.

And I wait.

Nothing. Except a lot a movement. So I grab my cellphone from the side of the bed to illuminate the crazed child and... what the heck?!

She is pushing herself up on her knees, and then grounding her face into the bed, propelling herself backwards. At first, I thought that she had just done it that once, but as I watch, she is slowly... awkwardly... squirmily?... inching her way down the bed. I gasped audibly and hit Adam. He rolled over in agitation, shooting me a look of death before staring quizzically at his newly mobile daughter. For about 20 minutes, we sat there moving her to the top of the bed, watching her wiggling sojourn and laughing hysterically. We figured she was probably tired, even if thrilled with herself, after her little workout, so we turned off the lights again and prepared for sleep.

How wrong we were.

Ava, it seems, is built for Marathon movement. She kept wiggling, forcing us to grab her again or face the thud and scream of her falling off the end of the mattress. After quite a while on this merry-go-round, we tried putting her between us and locking legs, providing a wall between her and the drop-off. This made her none-too-pleased. We finally, begrudgingly, put her to rest in her crib. Five minutes of blood curdling screams, and we all drifted into the land of nod.

Since then, she has retired from marathons, though she still wiggles her way towards certain goals (usually the edge of the couch, unfortunately). She is truly the smiley-est baby I've ever encountered. I am so blessed!

Mmmmm.... it's that time of year, isn't it? You know, the time of year when we all make plans and promises we may have the best intentions with but in the end will never follow through on? Sigh. The beginning of a new year. Of course, I'm still in reflective mode, thinking back on the chaos that was 2008. Pregnancy, childbirth, motherhood... for starters. My senior year of college, Adam getting promoted, a new kitty, a new home, a new spark for speech, the decision to try to go to graduate school, my Grandma passing, giving up parli debate, and so much more. It was a wild ride.
2009, on the other hand, promises to be even more tumultous. We've got graduation, graduate school, a real job, moving to a completely new town, Ava turning one, hopefully a wedding, a trip to Cabo with the family in June (if the stars align properly), potentially getting a dog... I mean, it's a lot of dependent variables, and my math skills suck, but it should be fun nonetheless.
So what are my New Years Resolutions? Well, to look fabulous at a wedding in July, for starters. To set a good example for my daughter. To graduate on time. To pay down some debt. To set up a new home. To keep in touch with my family more frequently (and not just immediate members, either). To be more honest with myself and others.
Cheesy? Um, yeah. Blame it on the time of year, I suppose...

That Stupid Charlie Brown Song

Yay Christmas! For real, this is my favorite time of year. I will confess, I'd lost that loving feeling over the past several years, but that Christmas magic was just as potent this year as it was in grade school. My anticipation for Ava's reaction was beyond words. Watching her eyes get big in the face of soft, fuzzy, dancing, singing, lit up toys was hilarious. I cannot believe the generosity of those around my little family and am SO appreciative.

Adam did great, too! He put on a brave face for 48 hours and threw him into the lions dens' of the Nelson and Schmitt Holiday festivities and came out battle worn but no worse for the wear. I love that guy. It was wonderful to spend Christmas with him for the first time.

However, as the holiday season comes to an end, I find myself cursing that Charlie Brown Christmas movie with that one song- "Christmas time is here..."- it's the single most depressing Christmas song ever (perhaps with the exception of "Solider's Night Before Christmas" and "Christmas Shoes"), and it is rolling around in my head like a stale piece of stocking candy.

I suppose it fits my mood, though. Not that I'm sad, or melancholy... just reflective. This holiday season has also given me a great deal to mull over. For example, this was my first Christmas without my Grandma, and in a few days, it will be the one year anniversary of her initial admittance to the hospital. At Christmas, looking into the faces of my mom and her brothers and sisters... I saw what her passing had done. It has changed each and every one of us. Some are more caring and appreciative. Some are more reserved, hesitant to let down a wall and see too much emotion pour out. Others have become callous, cutting family out of their lives all together. The bad changes are few and far between. I felt like my Grandma swooped into our Christmas gathering for a little while, proud of her children and grandchildren, and in true Grandma fashion, flew back out to do her guardian angel thing with the rest of her ailing children.

I miss her very much. Somedays I don't think about it at all; it's like I could call her and ask her for a recipe any time I'd like. Other days I go to make that call and have the realization of her passing hit me all over again. Sometimes it's just a dull ache that won't go a way. I can't imagine what my mom is going through. Then I look at Ava... and I see both my Mom and my Grandma in her... and the tears turn a little sweeter.

Oh Ava. Another reason to reflect. It was right around this time last year that I found out she was comin' to town. At the time, I felt like I was a Santa Claus of my own, carrying around the heaviest gift load known to mankind, even if she physically wasn't that much at the time. My relative silence over her existence made last Christmas very strange indeed. In retrospect, she has been the best gift I ever could have dreamed, hoped, or prayed for. She has irrevocably changed my life and spurred me to want to change myself for the better. On Christmas, her pajamas depicted her as wrapped up with a tag that said, "Mom and Dad's Best Christmas Present Ever!" (Thanks Furg); truer words were never spoken (or written... or seen... whatev).

I also reconnected with some friends back home. Though only one of my marine boys is in town, the label I'd adorned him with for so long doesn't quite fit anymore. He's anything but a boy, and I was so proud of him. He's very much in love, mature beyond his years, and as caring and sweet as ever. I wish him nothing but happiness.

I also had a friend I'd lost touch with stop by. Though we'd sort of fallen away from each other under bitter and trivial circumstances... it was kind of like we just picked up where we'd left off. A nice feeling indeed.

Of course, Ava got to meet my two besties in the whole wide world, and while I'd been concerned that her presence might, I don't know... alter? the way we interact... nothing of the sort occured. Any "alteration" was merely the product of my own exhaustion.

However, my last reflection is the product of recent correspondence with someone from my past with someone I didn't know very well. I opened my email to find that a girl that I vaguely knew from high school had sent me a message on Facebook. When I opened it, I couldn't have been more shocked. She was asking questions about a situation that I, quite honestly, had no recollection of. As I read on, though, it made a lot of sense. Apparently, I had dismissed a situation involving her, paying it no attention, and in the end, wound up hurting her. Typical.

As we continued to exchange pleasantries (no worries, there's no ill will there anymore), I learned more about the young woman in a span of a few hours than I had bothered to absorb in four years of high school. She'd had the impression that I disliked her, which wasn't true at all. I began to wonder- how many other people did I hurt? Or ignore? How many people did I obliviously impact? I guess it just goes to show that we, all too often, are unaware of the way we shape the world around us.

This kind of ties into a conundrum I've been struggling with since I was little. I'm a very empathetic individual... probably too much so. Depending on when you've met me, this may or may not ring true with you. I've see sawed between this natural state of being and forced indifference for years. I don't know how many times I've been told I can't save the world (well... duh). At the same time, indifference doesn't sit well with my conscience. I try to balance it all out, and I know that in these early days of motherhood, I've resorted to indifference out of convenience, being too emotionally drained to be myself.

I guess this recent exchange has kind of been a wake up call. I can't afford to do that. It may be tiring or frustrating or overwhelming... but caring is what makes us human. I think of my closed off Aunts and Uncles, or of friendships that fell apart for like of trying, or other friendships that could meet the same fate without effort, and I know that indifference is no longer a luxury I can afford to partake in. When I think of my daughter, and how I want her to be brought up and who I want to help her become, I know that I will fail as a mother if I cannot be emotionally available and teach her to do the same. Does it invite pain? Yes. But without that pain, we don't know real joy, and we miss out on opportunities to really feel alive.

Well, I've finished my work work for the day, though I still have the house to clean. Perhaps I'll blast some music to try to clear the space between my ears of that melancholy Charlie Brown melody, without forgetting the lesson that accompanied it. Suggestions anyone?

Isn't She Lovely

Today was one of my favorite kinds of days. Adam didn't have work, I'm out of class, and Ava was content to lay between us. At least half of the day was spent lounging in bed, cuddled together. Ava would wake on occasion, and the only reason we would know is because she would start to kick her legs playfully and wind up socking us in the stomach or leg. After some cooing and bouncing, we'd give her a bottle, and she would drift back to sleep with us.

When we finally did wake up, she was still in a good mood. Her favorite thing to do is stare off at the lit up Christmas tree. I'll lay her under the branches, and she'll bat at the shiny, cheap, plastic ornaments like she has discovered an invaluable treasure. Her squeals and grunts could honestly entertain me for hours.

While I had originally intended to clean the house and do laundry all day today, my best laid plans fell right through my hands as I settled into the easy comfort of Adam's arms, Friday Night lights, and Ava's steady breathing. Between that and my ten cent poker games online, I now find myself gaping at the time. I'm leaving for Chicago not too long from now, and I've yet to wash the necessary clothes, pack for any of us, clean out the car or even think about the drive ahead. I think coffee, coffee, and more coffee will be the only thing that gets me home for the holidays tomorrow (or in 40 or so minutes, today).

I'm still waiting for my professors to post my grades. I'll have above a 3.0, thank goodness. I'm proud of myself. I know I talked a big talk about expectations for my school work this semester, but truth be told, I think I may have been trying to convince myself that I could do it. The only class that really tripped me up was statistics, but that's predictable. As I search for the grad school that will be a good fit for my fledgling family, I can breathe a little easier in the knowledge that, even with an infant, I can keep up.

Well, I probably should get things together for tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Don't call it a comeback...

It's been awhile, and I'm sorry for the delay, but life has been a little bit hectic, as I'm sure you can imagine. This has, all at once, been a semester from hell AND a blessing. Ava has transformed my life in ways I never thought possible. Sure, there's sleep deprivation, my new perfume (eau de baby puke), the perpetual mess I live in, and a constant stream of dirty diapers, but more than that, there's laughter, wonder and a tremendous sense of purpose. It is impossible to freak out about homework overload or memorization deadlines or debate assignments when you're watching Ava stare in amazement at the fish tank. It's a trip to watch her snicker with Adam's half-cocked smile, my chin, and her own mischievous sparkle in her eyes. I know I haven't kept up, but I promise I will start writing once a week. Unttil then, enjoy the baby girl's smile...

SHE'S HERE!

SHE'S HERE! Phew! After all that waiting, Ava Veronica Heugel has finally arrived! She was born at 10:10 pm on July 28th, 2008. She was 20 inches long, weighing in at 6 lbs 12 and 1/2 oz. What a day!

I had stayed up until 4 am that morning knitting what I hoped would eventually resemble a blanket, aware that I had a doctor's appointment at 9 am but not too concerned, as I was fairly sure that I wasn't any further dialated and I certainly wasn't having any further contractions. I just figured that I'd go in, have my membranes painfully stripped away AGAIN, and then go back and wince until I drifted off to sleep again.

How wrong I was. Well, partially.

I went in for my appointment, groggy and annoyed. Further fueling my annoyance was how late the office was running behind schedule. A half hour after my appointment was scheduled, bladder about to burst, they finally called me back. Lilyana, the office nurse, led me back to the exam room, took my blood pressure, and patted me on the knee, aware of my impatience to get the child OUT. 15 minutes later, my doctor finally arrived. As usual, she started out looking for the baby's heartbeat. Not as usual, she had a bit of a hard time finding it, and frowned when she finally did. She began the dreaded internal, again noting that I wasn't really any further dialated, but instead of the stripping I'd been dreading, she pulled her hand out earlier than usual. I looked up to see the same frown, but didn't think anything of it until I saw blood on her hand.

Bright red blood. A lot of it.

Before I could ask what was going on, she calmly stated that I needed to go over to Labor and Delivery right away for monitoring as the baby's heartbeat was not as strong as she would like. She rushed out of the room, saying she would call ahead and let them know I was coming.

I redressed myself, shaking. What did this mean? Why was I bleeding? Certainly that wasn't just my water breaking. Was the baby ok?

I called the boy and my mom on the way over. The boy had slept even less than I had under the same assumptions I had made and was probably less excited than me, but his concern overwhelmed any level of exhaustion. My mom asked why the baby's heart was slow and what had caused the bleeding, but hell if I had any answers. I just told her I'd call her once I knew what was up.

This visit to the hospital was a tid bit different than times past (obviously). I really had just assumed nothing big was up until they handed me the hospital gown. Before, I'd just hand to strip from the waist down and jump on the bed. Suddenly, things were looking far more serious. Still, though, there were no contractions or leaking water or even dialation, so it couldn't be today... could it?

Well, I was right about there being no signs, but concerned with the slower heart rate, the doctor decided we would induce. She prescribed an enema and a pictocin drip immediately. Like it or not, Ava was comin' out.

Well, so I had thought. At first, the contractions were no biggie. The boy dozed on and off in the chair next to me. I finally talked him into going to get something to eat when they put the catheter in, but aside from that, he just sat there trying to rest and jumping whenever the steady sound of the baby's heartbeat on the monitor spiked or lagged. Unfortunately, the contractions became more and more intense. Those of you who know me know that I am not good with pain. Like, at all. I put it off for as long as possible, knowing that I wouldn't get an epidural until I was at least 3 cm dialated, but soon I was begging for Demerol. An hour later, I needed another dose. An hour after that, I was begging for a c-section. My doctor told me she refused to perform one without medical need, and that she would now be breaking my water.

It sounds so simple. Like breaking a water balloon or something.

Yeah, right.

I screamed bloody murder, sobbing hysterically. Even after she stopped what she was doing, the pain continued. She had the nerve to get annoyed, saying the monitor wasn't even showing a contraction. Great idea- tell the hysterical woman she's being a baby. That'll get her to shut up right away. I continued to squirm and scream, convinced I was dying, blubbering that I wasn't strong enough to do this. Fortunately, I was 4 cm dialated, so I could finally get my epidural.

The boy had done very well. I knew he was scared, but he kept his cool as much as possible to help me keep what was left of mine. However, we both knew that getting the epidural would not be an absolute solution. Neither of us wanted to think about the length of the needle that was about to be inserted into my spinal cord, especially with me squirming in agony with each contraction. It was inevitable that a contraction would occur during the process, and if I didn't keep still, that needle could go in the wrong way, and.... I don't even want to think about it.

In any case, the anesthesiologist, Adam, and my nurse, Cristina (a saint, by the way) were all in the room. Adam was standing in front of me, holding my hands. They had just numbed the area, and a contraction kicked in. I was doing my damndest to keep still when all of the sudden...

"Now walk it out, walk it out, now walk it out..."

The far from soothing melody of one of the single most obnoxious songs to hear when you're in pain began to emanate from Adam's speaker phone. My blood began to boil and all capacity for rational thought vaporized in a split second. Quivering, I looked up with rage in my eyes.

"Turn.... off... that.... PHONE!!!!"

Poor Adam (yeah, there's no point in shielding identity anymore... and I'm lazy). He looked at me like a cornered animal about to be struck. He stammered something about not being able to get over to the phone because of where the anesthesiologist was standing, but such logic had no bearing on my demand. The nurse saw the beast emerging and moved to turn off the phone, but stopped mid-stride, giving Adam a funny look?

"Are you ok?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said. "I should probably just drink something."

I let out a guttural yell, and she forgot Adam and moved towards the still ringing phone. At that moment, disaster struck. Adam went rigid, twitched, and began a fall backwards that seemed to last forever. He hit his head on the cabinet, fell to the side, and slammed it against a porcelain sink.

So there I am, needle being inserted into the spine, mid-contraction, love of my life unconscious on the ground, and totally freaking out. The nurse rushed to Adam's side as a flurry of other doctors and nurses entered the room and people started yelling things. I just kept crying as they brought him around. The only plus side to all of this was that I paid zero attention to the epidural being put in, and by the time they had Adam sitting up in a wheel chair, it was over and done with. They laid me down and began trying to convince Adam to go to the emergency room, but he refused (We still don't know why he passed out). This probably would have been more disconcerting, but within minutes the epidural kicked in, which is why the rest of the details from the hospital should be taken with a grain of salt, because DAMN those drugs were good.

While I departed to happy land, my mom and sister Brittany arrived. If I wasn't happy from the meds already, I was ecstatic then. I don't think anyone can truly appreciate their mom until their about to become one. In that moment, I was genuinely apologetic for putting her through hell for 36 hours before deciding to come out. I don't know how she did it.

The other thing, though, is that with the meds came a lack of conscious thought. As the nurses and doctors came in for continual examination, I didn't care anymore who saw what, when. Again, my mom had told me this would happen, but the evaporation of my modesty still seems rather mind boggling. My poor sister saw way more of me than she had ever anticipated.

Unfortunately, this happy fog was interrupted by the doctor coming in for an examination. My legs went up willingly, but came back down quickly as she shook her head.

"Lauren, you're still only dialated to four. We've given you all the pictocin we can. We're going to need to do a c-section."

These words cut through the fog like the knife she was proposing. Though just hours earlier I would have cried in gratitude, fear now seized me tightly. This was a major surgery. There were a lot of potential complications, and recovery was not supposed to be fun. Adam, my rock, even let his facade crack a little as fear flitted across his face. I gripped his hand.

"Is that really necessary?"

The doctor looked back at me with annoyance written plainly across her face.

"Yes."

I nodded, and she began barking orders to nurses for preparation. It was explained that they would up my epidural dosage so that I would be numb basically from the shoulders down. A bunch of questions were asked, but I don't remember a whole lot from this time span. I suddenly was freezing cold, and my teeth wouldn't stop chattering. I just kept trying to find my mom's face in the swarm, trying to stay calm and keep my grip on Adam's hand. I was panicked about the surgery, about the baby, about how prepared I was. This was it. She was coming out. Suddenly I was totally without confidence; was I really ready for this?

Little too late for that thought, huh?

They wheeled me down the corridor and into the operating room. This was even colder than my room and the hallways, and the walls echoed with instruments clanging about and my teeth smacking against each other uncontrollably. They strapped my arms down and I fought back tears. This was not how it was supposed to happen!

After what seemed like forever, they let Adam come in. At this point, they had put a sheet up in front of my face so I couldn't see my stomach being cut open. As much as I didn't want to watch, Adam was petrified. The whole time, as I fought to stay conscious, he held my hand and looked me in the eyes, telling me to stay with him. I don't think either of us have ever been so afraid. We couldn't hear anything at all, until in the middle of the sterile clanging...

There she was. Her cry, in that moment, was the sweetest sound I have ever heard. The doctor brought her behind the curtain, and Adam and I took in the sight of our dark haired, squalling, beautiful baby girl. Tears rolled down both of our faces. After months of waiting, wondering, dreaming... she was more wonderful that we could have ever anticipated.

He held my hand tightly while the took her into the corner to clean her up. You know, I know I've said it again and again on this blog, but wow.... I am so in love with this man.

The nurses called for him to follow them to the nursery, and I was again alone. Luckily, the emotional roller coaster and medical cocktail being pumped into my vein had left me exhausted, and I quickly passed out. I vaguely remember being rolled to "recovery," and I think I had an exchange with one of the nurses about how Madea's Family Reunion was better than Diary of a Mad Black Woman. At some point (I have no idea how much time passed), they rolled me into my room in the maternity ward. Adam, my mom and sister came in (I think) a few minutes later, followed closely by my beautiful little girl.

She is SO tiny. I mean, babies are small to begin with but she was was really small, especially for a child born into my family. She's like the size of a junior league football, and weighs less than my siamese kitten. But wow. She looks SO much like her daddy. Big, gorgeous brown eyes, a full head of dark hair, and the most precious little mouth you could imagine. I was in total awe. Let's be real- I still am.

At this point, the drugs were still thick. Over the next few days, they began to wear off, and I had to request pain killers. Modesty was still not a priority (as several of my visiting team mates found out the hard way), and learning to nurse was anything but easy (more on that later), but that Friday we arrived home, my new little family.

The past two weeks have been the most painful, joyful, tumultuous and miraculous of my life. Though some lessons have been learned the hard way, and there are many more to come, I am so blissfully happy.

Though this blog was originally intended to just chronicle the pregnancy, I think I'll keep it up. I hope you keep reading, be you friends and family far away, or just looking for a chuckle at our expense. It's sure to be a humorous adventure.

Bout to Pop

Ok, so now I'm just waiting. I'm soooo over this. I went to the doctor again this morning. She said the cervix is even more soft, the mucus plug coming out is a good sign, the baby dropped way low, but I'm no further dialated. In an effort to speed things along, she stripped the membranes. Again.

OW.

I think I've said enough about that, though. Needless to say, it set off some inconsistent contractions, but nothing more. Now I'm doing nothing with my time and waiting for her to pop out. I've now taught myself to knit and am trying to make the baby a blanket, but my arms get sore, so I have to take breaks. Usually I go on walks, but seeing as this blog is also a source of entertainment for some, I thought I'd provide you with what is, in my opinion, the best of YouTube baby videos. Enjoy!

Scared Kids:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XG0lQXR6gzA&NR=1 (have to wait till the end for the funniest part)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pup-Ydpn4z8&feature=related (again, wait for it)

Kids and bad language:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pj2Nutu5v8&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uq05IcLBEBM&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkkvoipubtQ&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lOozkxLp1A&feature=related

http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/74

http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/33f2687080

Laughing at their expense:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9yAkBSrMk0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pihygVBjAYU&feature=related (wait till the end)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nG6ieU89tJM&feature=related

Baby Laughter:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5P6UU6m3cqk&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_mBLWpdwnI&NR=1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXXm696UbKY&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41BvNhzl83Y

Teeheehee. Maybe one day I'll have such amusing videos about Ava.

Stripped

So I had my appointment yesterday morning. I went in thinking that perhaps my doctor would pull out a planner and ask if Wednesday at 9 am or Thursday at 2 pm was better for me for an induction, but no such luck. Instead, I walked in blindly to a rather painful experience. As the doctor performed the internal (which is uncomfortable to begin with), a frown crossed her face. Hand still thrust within she said, "Well, you're still not dialated enough to induce. What I'm going to do now is strip your membranes, hopefully get things moving."

OW.

Yeah, so that hurt. A lot. I sat there wincing, completely clueless about what the hell she was doing. As she snapped her gloves off, she said she'd see me at 9 am on Thursday and we'd see where to go from there.

OW.

The drive home was nerve-wracking. I was in so much pain, but it wasn't the wave-like pain that so many women describe when discussing contractions. Instead, it was like someone had stuck some kind of pole into my insides and was twisting slowly and deliberately- like my internal organs were functioning like a towel being twisted. I called my mom to let her know what was up, and she sounded just as quizzical as I felt. I begrudgingly crawled into bed, though sleep was probably a good hour away as I lay writhing in discomfort.

OW.

I didn't get up again until like 2 in the afternoon, and by the the pain had subsided somewhat. It was at this point that I decided to figure out what the hell my doctor had actually done to me. As I read, the pain suddenly made perfect sense. "Stripping of the membranes" is a practice that is used not necessarily to induce labor, but to bring it closer and make induction a possibility. The amniotic fluid sac is attached to the side of a woman's uterus by thin layers of mucus. A doctor who wants to "strip the membranes" will insert her fingers into the pregnant woman and swipe this natural adhesive away, functionally having it float around.

This can have a variety of effects. If the woman is already super close to labor, this will set off a chain of contractions, and voila, baby en route. If not, it puts more pressure on the sac via gravity which can cause the water to break and contractions to start. If you're really close to labor as it is, this will set off labor usually in the first 24 hours (no such luck here), but the typical window for it to get the party started is 72 hours. In my case, that will be the start time of my next doctor's appointment.

Well, further armed with knowledge about what was going on in my body, I decided to start walking around in hopes that all the jostling combined with the newly liberated status of the amniotic fluid sac would cause my water to break. No go, but it did cause some contractions. We'll see what happens on today's constitutional.

One interesting note, I think my mucus plug dislodged today. I know I had already talked about this occurring, but the plug can grow back, and given that its last appearance was spotting only, it's possible that it did not fully dislodge last time. However, this time around, the discharge was far more... plug like. I won't gross you out any more than that.

The point is, things are getting closer every hour. A bunch of people are in town this weekend for some of my coaches' wedding, so maybe Ava will arrive in time to meet the whole crew. We'll just have to wait and see. Time to go walk it out. Wish me luck!

I have less patience than my kitten

Well, my water hasn't broken. Contractions aren't regular. Only thing I can count on is my back killing me without a thing I can do about it. Like I've said before, though, I'm not going to go waste my time in the hospital to have them tell me that I'm not in labor yet- especially since I know that already. GAHHH. I just keep thinking about Monday- my light at the end of the tunnel. It's unlikely that my doctor will induce labor ON Monday if it's something she wants to do anyways; she's far too scheduled for it to happen that way. Still, answers or timelines or time "horizons" if you prefer Bush lingo would be FANTASTIC.

I'm more than ready. The car is packed, the house is clean, I've made Ava a dress that actually has a ghost of a chance of fitting for once, plans have been made for when the family will descend, and I even think the cats (subconsciously) are prepared for her arrival. I find myself continuously watching the clock without an end in sight. I'm staying hydrated and active- where is she!?

Who's the real baby?

Owwwwwww. I'm freakin' miserable right now. I guess it started last night. I went to go see "The Dark Knight" (which was, by the way, AMAZING), and within minutes of sitting down in the theater, was experiencing bad lower back pain. I just wrote it off to bad movie theater seating, and chose to grit my teeth through the film rather than miss a minute of Heath Ledger's performance (totally Oscar-worthy, in my book). By the time I got home, I was so pre-occupied with the film and so wiped out that I wrote the back pain off as a casualty of cinematic bliss and headed to sleep.

Not only did I sleep fitfully with nightmare after nightmare, I woke up several times to pee, and would wind up hurting badly. Again, though, I was so tired that I would eventually drift off. I wound up waking up around noon, as the boy and I were both working at one. My back continued to hurt, and I just felt like crap. No matter how I sat or laid down, no matter how I stretched or rested, the pain persisted. I was exhausted, too. I took a nap part way through my day, but could have slept for hours longer.

When I finally finished my work for the day around 8 pm (no, I didn't work for 7 hours; my job is very flexible and from home), I still felt awful. However, the possibility of the doctor inducing on Monday (however slim it may be) has been weighing heavily on my mind, so I announced to the boy that I'd be back in a bit after I cleaned the bathroom. Well, I had the best of intentions. I walked to the restroom and promptly walked- well, more like slouchingly shuffled- back to the couch. He was in the middle of a video game, which usually translates into on a different planet, but he slowly set down the controller and came to my side, trying to figure out what was going off. I brushed him off, saying I was just having a contraction. Most guys might freak out when they hear that, but my guy has heard it so frequently with all the false labor issues I've had that he just nodded with a look of skepticism and eventually returned to his game.

Well, after eating the super nutritious dinner of Domino's pizza (my hellish day had translated into a lack of grocery shopping, and thus no food in the house), I was still hurting. I have tried to be very conservative with any kind of pain killers these days just in case labor does come and it might interfere with my ability to be given an epidural (not even sure if that's a rational concern, but I'm pregnant and don't need to be rational). However, facing a long evening of misery, I bit the bullet and took one Tylenol 3 with Codeine.

That was probably an hour and a half to two hours ago. I still hurt. My upper back pain is pretty constant, and I'll chalk that one up to the strain my humongous breasts are exerting, but my lower back pain is coming in waves. I had read that for women who experience "back labor," this is how it starts. However, after two false alarms and wasted trips to the hospital, I am not going anywhere until I absolutely have to. Now, that may be in a couple of hours, or that may wait until my doctor's appointment on Monday. Personally, I'm hoping that whatever this pain is goes away quickly or produces a child in my arms pronto (well, not quite- I still want to get the bathroom cleaned).

I'm going to go back to the fetal position again. Wish me luck.