Life is a Banquet

When the End Isn't The End

When I wrote this post, the end of my book was in sight. I needed reassurance to follow my original plan which called for the heroine to suffer a miscarriage close to the end of the book as means to her personal growth and completion of her character's journey.  The response I got was overwhelmingly positive--torture away, as long we get our happy ending! No problem there--I don't write books without happy endings. And I hate to read books with ambiguous endings.

Then, a mere few days later, something ELSE was positive. And suddenly, I just couldn't write that ending. Even touching the ending seemed to tempt fate. After all, when I conceived of the book, my own journey with PCOS and adoption were at the forefront, and I wanted to write a book where life didn't go according to plan, but the characters still got a really happy--unexpectedly--ending.  The fictional miscarriage felt true to where I was right then, and I felt too bitter to write a happy-mommy-daddy-bio baby ending.

But, then my world shifted and NOT writing the happy-mommy-daddy-bio baby ending seemed disloyal to my new reality, and then there was the whole tempting fate part of the original . . . And so I sat, mired in block with a few passes a new ending, for THREE freaking months. This after swearing that I would never repeat the loooooooooooooooong never-ending block of 2006. This after doing all the work in counseling (and at the pharmacy) to deal with depression and finally, after so many years, get to a stable point.  Pregnancy hormones undid all of that in a matter of weeks, but conflict over the ending didn't help any, either.

Now I'm 16 weeks, and while the pregnancy hormones are still knocking me up one side and down the other, my reality seems to have shifted again to let me re-read the original ending with less-freaked-out eyes. Last night, I dreamed that I was at our writer's retreat--the same retreat where I began the book in November--but instead, I was finishing the book. I was using the original ending, and the sun was shining. I felt the love and support of my fellow writer's as I typed the final words. I felt my excitement to begin editing, and it was the kind of dream that I hate to wake up from.  I'm also pretty sure that Beta was there too.

There are no guarantees either with this pregnancy or with this book.  Many bad things could still happen to both. Or both could be fine.  I chatted with my amazing CP today about the dream and the ending direction. Luckily, she's as woo-woo as I am these days, and she totally saw a message in the dream. In talking with her, I saw the significance and beauty in the original version--an emotional resonance that was lost when I tried to keep everything light and silly. The character had no room to grow. 

I'm going to finish this thing. True to my original vision. I'll save the alternative ending for feedback from them-that-might-publish, but I'm going to finish this thing.  I've updated my word meter with where the original now stands and I am so freaking close. It's down to scenes, mere scenes.  I've got several projects waiting in the wings, waiting for me to grow them as well.  It's time. 

Energy Baseball

At some point, I'd like to do a writing-related post again, but that would require, you-know, actual writing, so you get more baby posts.  And this particular baby post is rather woo-woo, even for me. So, if you're in more of a proof-and-logic mode, you might skip this particular round of Kum-Ba-Yah. 

About two weeks ago, I noticed whenever I sneezed, my body felt little aftershocks in my nethers for several minutes. These became more pronounced, like little hiccups that you only notice when you're very very quite. Now, being a large (hem, hem) woman, I knew that *actually* feeling movement at 14ish weeks was a pipe dream. But, instead I decided to get in touch with Beta's energy--just focusing on this new energy chakra that seems to have opened up.

I can do this because Freak was really into the metaphysical when I met him, and we used to play "energy baseball", pushing energy between us, around us, transferring it, moving it. Think of it as yoga making out. Later, I took yoga, and while I totally lack the Christy Turlington made-by-yoga body, I did get really good at the breathing stuff.  The breathing exercises have helped me through many depressive episodes. Little did I know that breathing might help me BOTH to connect with Beta and to lower my pregnancy anxiety.

So for two weeks (16 weeks tomorrow! (or today--I loose track!)), now I've been trying to get very quiet and still and go within myself for a few minutes a day. When I do this, I can definitely feel *something*. That something might be a burger, but still I feel it.  And it's so amazingly cool when I do, that I want to just laugh and laugh with pure joy for that instant.  And for about 15 seconds, I'm remarkably at peace with my decision not to rent a Doppler, because, really isn't this better? Doppler by  the Dali Lama.

But, the other night, something truly remarkable happened. Freak felt it too.  Ever since my belly "popped" (Which happened sometime on Monday. Seriously 24 hours to a whole new body shape.), he's been patting and talking to it a lot more. But the other night, I didn't even need to get to my happy place to feel Beta, the hiccups were so strong, and Freak had his hand there.

"Right there?" he asked.

And he was right. I wasn't just hallucinating. He could feel this energy--these vibrations as well. And we laid there and felt the energy move around my nerf-ball sized uterus, and he kept guessing right where I felt it. And it was amazing, this feeling of "oh my god, I'm not imagining this!"

Last night, we tried again, but Beta wasn't in the mood for bladder tap dancing as much, but still I feel this new bond with Freak.  It might very well be one of shared psychosis, but hey anything that gets me several belly rubs a day is a-okay. 

I have another week wait for my next visit with the doppler-of-truth and the magic ultrasound scheduling, but I'm a lot more okay with that wait right now. 

Speaking of the ultrasound, should I just ask Beta's aura whether Beta is blue or pink or should I ask the ultrasound technician to take a peek? Pros? Cons? Been there done that experience? 

This is Why People Have Pets

Hello! I am not an infant!
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

How to get your cat to help you test baby gear: First, locate a used sling either free or cheap, cheap, cheap. This will come in handy if one of your two cats thinks the way to freedom is by clawing a new exit.  Don't mind the garish patriotic print (so me! so very very me! I may actually switch my primary registration for 2008!), this is your PRACTICE sling--to determine if you actually have the manual dexterity to operate one of these puppies or whether that $60 beauty you pine for will go unused.

Good news! You do indeed have the talent for threading the loops and getting the sling over your head. This is not nearly as complicated as the pouch and carrier people would have you believe.  Bad news! You lack something suitable to place in the carrier.  Freak suggests that a rain boot (an Oregon necessity) is about the size of a newborn.   Practical, especially wrapped in a swaddling blanket (free is so wonderful, I love my friends), but it lacks the cuteness appeal.  My stuffed duck and elephant work admirably, but they are more like toddler sized.  Their large fluffy heads kept getting in the way of serious sling practice. 

That and Freak, who has decided that he is a definete sling dude, as opposed to a Moby Wrap dude (also Cheap!Cheap!) kept wrenching poor Hortense the Duck out by her neck and beating her large fluffy head into submission. And I kept collapsing in fits of giggles. Not exactly proper parenting practice. 

Enter the sleeping cats, all cuddled up, unsuspecting the nature of my thoughts.  If you plan to try this at home, a sleeping cat is a non-negotiable element. Later in the evening, I was all set to repeat this with the Moby Wrap, for more photo shoot fun, but they ran at warp speed. Sleeping though, you can sneak up on them.  Have the pouch ready to go, and lower in all four feet together. This part is also non-negotiable as leaving two free feet, even for a second, will leave you very sorry. 

So, all four paws are in. Now, tighten the sling immediately to prevent fast escape, THEN adjust the cast into a more comfortable, truly, hands-free position.  Now, is when you want to make a mad dash for the camera phone. No time to primp.  No time to pose. The cat may escape in 45 seconds. Or he may stick around for 45 minutes and fall asleep. This is only if you have a weirdo cat like Mingy.  Per cat mileage may vary--Mungy merely looked at the sling and went into convulsions. 

Lots of other funny cat-sling-pictures on flickr--click the link. Also, dare to admire my 15 + week belly.  Ignore the awesomeness of my expanding rack.

Harriet Gabbert

Harriet Gabbert
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

All you Harriet Haters are just going to have to deal! (And the rest of you, please weigh in on the name debate below).  Because, Harriet  is way too cool for all of you.  She's handmade by a local crafter who does one-of-a-kind animals. I got her Saturday in Portland at the PaganFaire organized by my friend Jen.  Harriet features a handknit sweater, bloomers, and an adorable tail. Her clothing is securely attached for inquisitive little fingers.

Harriet will (hopefully) be a great friend for Beta, and she's just gender-neutral enough to work for even the most manly infant.  The quest for the perfect female name rages on (and Freak breathes a huge sigh of relief), but Harriet is here to stay! And she's very proud to carry such a dorky-old-lady-name to honor two beloved women.  Meow.

The Name Game

Frances has a great post up about the challenges of naming two babies at once. I don't envy her the task because, frankly, naming one baby is a political negotiation of middle east proportions.

We've been talking about names since . . . . oh the second week or so we were hanging out. It was always one of those "car games" we played with no real purpose, right up there with "if we win the lottery." Then, when we started talking adoption, the name game quietly slipped to a back burner. We knew that renaming isn't as common in foster-adopt situations, and needed to drop the need to slap "our" name on the kid and be open to whatever the universe might send us.  No matter how ugly-trendy the name, we knew we could love the kid regardless.

Fast forward to 14 weeks of pregnancy, and this lesson seems forgotten as we struggle to get the "right name." And a name we can agree on. None of this "we'll love the kid even if it has your preferred name," business--that would be too civilized for the name swap-meet occurring via text messaging these days. "Well okay, but then the SECOND kid HAS to be . . . . " (oh the audacity of that statement . . .and yet, it has left my mouth more than once) and "But the first name is ALREADY more of a Freak name, so the middle name should be more Wavybrains . . . "

But, all is not hair-pulling and favor-withholding. We ARE able to agree on some basic principles:
1) The first name should be VERY unique
2) The first name should have limited "trend factor"--i.e. not likely to make the top 100 names anytime soon
3) The middle name should be more traditional and link to family (and give the kid an out from unique-name hell if they end up hating us).
4) The name needs to sound good with Gabbert
5) The name shouldn't be too impossible to spell, pronounce, or make a nickname and the initials shouldn't be tease-worthy
6) We both like: Sci-fi names, Roman names, Irish names, Planetary names, and Irish names 

I know you're all just dying to see what manner of geek-dom names we've come up with. And give your opinions. Which, I really do want. And suggestions of other truly unique names. And as an added bonus, because this is MY blog, I'll tell you what name I would pick if Freak abstained from voting. The 14-week short list:

Girls:
Octavia Anne (Current mutual front runner) 
Aurelia Anne
Aurelia Harriet
Kestrel Anne  (Freak's top choice) 
Inara Anne
Gaia Harriet
MY PICK: Harriet Anne
Note: Anne and Harriet are from discussions with my Nana--I'd love to name the baby after her, but her first name isn't really an option, so instead I involved her in the middle name discussion. Her picks: Anne, Harriet, Margaret

Boys:
Gaius Robert (Mutual front runner)
Corbin Robert (Freak's  second choice)
Theodan Robert (my second choice)
MY PICK: Benton Robert OR Collin Frances
Note: Robert is Freak's middle name and something of a tradition in his family. I'm not crazy about the name, but I bow to tradition. Frances would be my choice, honoring my deceased grandfather.

Opinions?? Additional suggestions?? Surely we can flip at least 50 more times in six months????  And yeah, I know, so much can still happen in six months, but the name-game is kind of our mutual version of hopeful knitting. Indulge us.

1/3 Done!

No, not with my book which continues to languish at 50 pages to go. But, Beta is now 13 weeks along! I totally feel like I need an "I survived the first trimester!" t-shirt. And medal. 

And I'm so profoundly relieved I'll even forgive Beta for the hives :) Saw the doctor today, and heard the heart beat. Heartbeat was so much cooler in the confines of the doctor's office than in the loud and chaotic ER. It's just weird---I don't FEEL like anything's there, I don't look like anything's there, but yet, there he is--just chugging along and moving! He flipped a little while she had the doppler on and I could hear it. It was probably only cute to me (even Freak wasn't all the interested in the doppler play by play), but my own heart stopped for a moment when I heard that sound. 

My blood sugar continues to do well. And on my t-shirt, I also want a "I lost 5 pounds in the first trimester" patch.  Eating like a drill sergeant has helped a lot as has giving up the junk. From here on out, I expect to hold steady/gain, but considering where I was starting from, this is a major victory for eating right and exercising.

Next visit: 17 weeks when we will schedule the ultrasound. 17 weeks. I can't believe I get to type that.  I still have moments of total disbelief. I was looking at some pictures of celebrity babies today, and I was like "I want a baby." Then, BANG! Duh, Lady! You have to leave for the O.B. in 15 minutes! You ARE having a baby. 

Or at least 1/3 of one :)

Hives, Heartburn, and Heartbeat

Hives:  I woke up yesterday with red bumpy rashes in several spots. Seeing as I am not Hotdog on BSG, and don't have the Syph, nor was I outdoors yesterday, I was a mite concerned. A call to my nurse MIL and some looking around on Dr. Google revealed that the rashes were hives.  Which are fairly common in pregnancy.

And probably not unrelated to the massive amounts of anxiety I've been struggling with.  But still damn annoying, however convinced that I wasn't dying, just itching, I decided to take this in stride.

Then they started spreading. Like little generals hollering, "blank skin over here," they kept spreading and multiplying, conquering new territory.  They spread over the course of the day until by bedtime I was miserable, pink mess resolving to call the on-call doctor in the morning.

Heartburn: In the midst of all this hive-y goodness, I started having massive stomach pain. Like doubled-over, can't sleep pain, can't breathe pain.  My stomach got all hard to touch, and I decided that despite the late, late hour, I couldn't wait to call the on-call doctor. 

On-call OB sent me straight to the ER where my lovely rash and gasping pain got me a room stat, but then we settled in for a long, long wait until finally Dr. Doogie Houser (alas, no House or McDreamy) gave me a Bendadryl IV. And some pain-killers.

Then I was sent for an abdominal ultrasound, focusing on my gallbladder. Doogie (apologies to JJ's Doogie, but I've never had a doctor younger than me before) guessed that I must be having some sort of severe reaction to a food. No clue what. Either that or the pain from the gallbladder just brought the hives along with it for company. No stones, but gallbladder probably behaving very sluggishly and bad. End verdict: Lots of benadryl and a prescription for Pepscid.

Heartbeat: About three or four hours in, Doogie sent in one of the male nurse minions in with a doppler. Male nurse got an awesome look at my worse areas of hives, but couldn't find anything. Freaking out commenced. Enter Miss Confident--nurse who assures me  that Male Nurse just has "no clue where to look."

She was right. 158 beautiful beats per minute. Even Freak, very sleep deprived, was moved.

Still pink and puffy and really itchy, and still having stomach/back pain, but also amazingly relieved.  And happy.

If cloud nine comes with Benadryl and crackers, I'm so there.  12 weeks three days  or so.  And damn grateful for every pink puffy spot and gallbladder pain.