Baby No More

As of today, I consider Patrick fully-transitioned into his new room. I'm bursting with so much pride at the moment, that I could burst.

Our first attempt a few months ago didn't go too well. Patrick was terrified of the new room and cried hysterically when he was left in it alone. Thanks to some helpful suggestions from Adam's cousin, Jody, and my dad, we took apart the crib and reassembled it in his new room. Patrick began to sleep in his new room, but in the comfort of his familiar bed. This went on for about two weeks.

This past Tuesday, Patrick woke up suddenly and frantically and I went in to comfort him. While I had him up, I thought it was a good idea to lay down together in his "big boy" bed. Patrick put his head down and was out like a light. We left him there all night. He was so excited the next morning when he woke up. When I asked him how his big boy bed was, he said, "I like it!"

Wednesday was the same story, but Thursday was a little more rough, as he actually started the night in the bed. He fussed a little, but less than 5 minutes later, he was quiet and sleeping soundly. Today, we tried naps. His first nap was perfect. He fussed for less than two minutes, never left his bed and fell asleep. Since then, he's been so excited about his new room. He's done some personal re-arranging (naturally; he is his father's son), and keeps insisting that it's "night-night time" and that we should go "put heads down." Right now, as I sit here, he is playing quietly in his room with his dinosaurs and his books and has not even asked to come out.

I don't know where my baby went and I miss him, but I love this new little boy so very much that I almost can't stand it today. Adam is having a little bit of baby mourning, but he's as proud as I am, I think. His first reaction to moving Patrick over was, "He's not ready, Catie. I don't think he's ready." Of course, he was ready...Adam was just worried about him in a room with access to outlets (covered), a bookshelf (bolted to the wall), and small, swallowable toys (he doesn't put things in his mouth.) But, Patrick is fine. He's safe. We're happy to report that he's learning to love this new change.

Pictures to come.

It's occurred to me lately how much this pregnancy has physically affected me. Much more than with my pregnancy with Patrick, I am very aware of the uncomforts of growing, those that I did not notice with Patrick until I was weeks away from delivering. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining. I put myself in this position and I'm thrilled about that. It's just amazing to me the work that the body has to do and withstand to grow a child.

For example, I cannot lay down comfortably. On my back hurts, on my stomach is very uncomfortable, and on my side seems unnatural, so I'm constantly trying to find some in-between. I should probably get used to this, as it doesn't go away for quite some time, but it seems awfully early to me to have this issue. Secondly, by the end of the day, my joints hurt. My knees, elbows, hips...my shoulders, even. Everything hurts. I'm nauseaus and starving at the same time. Parts of me are so swollen that the skin is shiny. They look nice, but don't touch. They hurt immensely. Unbelievable. I'm not tired, however. I'm the opposite of tired. Well...no...that's not even true. I just can't sleep well. All of this, and I'm 15 weeks along. Should be a fun 25 more, right? Oh, but it is. I feel like I'm just still in the awkward stages. I want to hit 20 weeks...that should be the end of the awkwardness...right?

I remember being pregnant with Patrick and feeling incredible. I felt so pretty and healthy. I sported stilettos until the day that I delivered (literally), and, aside from fairly terrible back pain in the evening, felt like a million dollars. I wonder if my memory is playing tricks on me or if toting around a 25-lb toddler on top of a growing belly is wearing on me. I am weeks away from turning in my heels...reluctantly. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

I think there is something to be said about the tiny moments we experience as parents. Of course, there are the big things, the first tooth, the first words and the first steps, but the little things, the sweet tiny moments that we get all to ourselves are my favorite parts of being a mother. These are the moments of which there are no pictures, the ones that are stored forever in the little pocket in my brain, my favorite memories, my feel-good moments.


I was thinking about this last night as I was awoken by Patrick, who was (for the second night in a row) sleeping with us. Things have been a little tense and stressful lately for both Adam and I (for differing reasons) this week, and we needed some QT with the little guy. Two nights in a row, he woke up to realize that he was being snuggled by his mother. Two nights ago, he grabbed my head with both hands and pulled me in for a "good hug" and said out loud, "This is MY Mama." Last night, I could feel him get restless and woke up right before he did. I was looking at him when he opened his eyes, and he smiled. He said, "Come see me, Mama," and gave me a kiss and a hug. It's amazing how those little moments can change the way the whole world looks. Perhaps that's what I need to get through the rocky parts, the ones that I wish I could just sleep through. I need a little toddler, some precious quality time, and a little lovin.' Pure heaven.

Those moments also seem to make up for the ones when you're mortified in public, about to explode with a tantrumming toddler. I've experienced one or two of those lately, too. We're a few months away from 2 still, but Patrick sometimes thinks that he's already there with his "stop it's" and "don'ts." Sometimes it's hard not to laugh. Other times, it's hard not to want to smack his little mouth (seriously, that sounds bad, but it's the truth.) It doesn't matter. It's the little sweet moments, the kisses out of nowhere, the "I like you, Mama" for no reason that makes things good...worth it.

I had a little bit of time...

I had a little bit of time today, so I thought I would update. As it stands, I am still in process of gathering all of the info/records/supplies that I need to start my nursing program in January, and I am very, very far away from having everything done, but it feels good to start. I like to be working toward something, to be working ON something. Projects are good for me. I like this one.

The more and more I think about going back to school full-time, the more excited I get. It's true that I won't have too much family time. It's true that we're going to be beyond busy and stretched financially, but in the end.....oh, the end! In the end, I'll have a job that I want. A job that makes me happy, with many fields from which to choose. (Note: My current job makes me happy, it is a job that I love...it's just not conducive to the family life that I want long-term. The people that I work with are amazing, which makes me very sad to be leaving, but also very happy and optimistic to have such support.)

So, the first semester ends on May 7, 2010. Baby Walden II is due to arrive around May 9, 2010. The two dates being so close together is funny to me. I am bound and determined to keep this baby in here until after my last final. Then, it's game time. I'll have three weeks to recover and then it's back to school for the summer. Thank goodness for a very helpful family who had stepped up to the plate to help.

As of today, I am just a couple days shy of 14 weeks. Baby Walden II is about 3.4 inches long and likely weighs close to 1.5 ounces. He/she is growing more proportionally. His/her length is catching up with the slightly larger head. The ears have started their move to the sides of the head, and the eyes continue to get closer and closer together. The baby's neck will soon elongate, and the chin will start to rise up off the chest. His/her reflexes will also continue to develop this week. Here is a cross-section (obviously, not mine) of a baby at 14 weeks in utero:

I'm still showing a little. Not too much more than I was when I was 14 weeks along with Patrick, but surely a little more, at least. I've been completely turned off by coffee, which, as it turns out, now makes me feel ill. Most days, I feel pretty good and some days still seem kind of crappy. Overall, I can't complain. Patrick told me again last night that the baby is nice and that the baby's name is Ruby. I guess we'll see. My dad was able to swipe a Doppler machine from his old clinic (on loan), so we're able to listen to the heartbeat whenever we want. It's extremely easy to find now, though the baby moves constantly, so we end up chasing it around with the little "microphone." So far, though, the heart rate has been nothing but healthy, in the 160-170 range, and very clear and strong. I get a little tingle every time I hear it. I probably always will. I still get that way when I hear Patrick's little heart beating.

Every day, something new.

Catherine Walden, RN?

Today, I became a nursing student. True, I haven't started any program requirements (not including any pre-req's or co-req's), but today I paid my dues, literally, and registered the next 18 months of my life away. At the end of this journey, I hope to have found one of the last pieces to this life of ours. As I sat in the auditorium today, I felt as though I already had. I think there is a reason that things work out how they do when they do, it's the only way to explain how my entire life has panned out so far. I'm beyond excited and terrified for what's to come. More to follow.