It should have been today

...or at least somewhere close to today. Not three and a half months early.



I still have so much guilt, anger, confusion, and shock that Jack was born so early. I don't clearly understand what happened, or why. And yet I have to see him every day, suffering from his extreme prematurity, trying to just get to the point that most babies are already developed before they are born.

Today is a hard day for me. It's a happy day, since we have been blessed with Jack's presence. But it's still very difficult to face that things didn't go as planned. That I never got the chance to carry my baby to term. That I didn't go home with him, didn't get to sleep next to him at night, didn't get to feed him, didn't get to show him off and do normal "mom things." Maybe it'll get easier as time goes on. Maybe not.

I will always be filled with the questions, "What if?" and "Why?"

I will always wonder what could have been.

I will always feel guilty, no matter how irrational it may seem to others. I think many, if not most, preemie moms know how I feel.

I will always live in fear of a sneeze or cough, or the wrong shade of color on his face, or a pause in his breathing, or a tremor in his limbs.

I will always wonder how his life will be different, what he'll miss out on, what he'll have to endure, what he will never know.

It should have been today.

March for Babies

I'm walking in the March for Babies walk to prevent prematurity on Sunday, April 25th, at the Naperville River Walk. I have created a team in honor of my son, Jack, in order to raise money for this cause. If you'd like to walk with me or donate to Jack's team, click on the widget to the right of my blog. Please join me in preventing premature births from happening to other babies and their families. Thanks!

How it all began

I thought I'd take a moment and fill you all in on what happened with Jack's early birth. I was absent from blogging for a while due to Jack's health issues and my own recovery, and it has only been recently that I've felt much like I used to (albeit with a big, pouchy belly) and have gotten back to my normal routine.

My pregnancy was normal up to the 20-week ultrasound. I was considered high risk due to AMA (Advanced Maternal Age) at 36, but I was otherwise healthy. Pete and I conceived within the first month of trying, and I never had severe morning sickness during my pregnancy. I was fatigued a lot, which I expected, and I tried to watch my weight, although I think I was on the higher end of weight gain for someone of my average size (a 40 lb gain after 6 months). My OB wasn't concerned, and things seemed to hum along at a nice pace. I took both a prenatal vitamin and omega-3 supplement religiously, and stayed away from such things as second hand smoke (Pete is a smoker), toxic fumes from paint and such, and the usual food no-no's for pregnant women.

Jack was measuring correctly at the 20-week ultrasound, seemed healthy, and no problems were found. Things seemed great, I felt great, and I was actually only worried that a) I'd have a big baby, since my mom's babies were all 9-10 lbs, or b) I'd have a small baby (4-5 lb) like my sister did, who mysteriously delivered both undersized babies at the 36-37 week mark. I never imagined what was about to occur.

At my 24-week checkup, it was found that my blood pressure was high, after having been low or normal for my whole pregnancy (and even before I got pregnant). For some reason, the nurse didn't pass this information along verbally to my OB, and I wasn't going to mention it since the nurse didn't, and my OB didn't see it in my chart (I know, dumb). But Pete did say something to my OB, and, rightly concerned, she retested me a few times. When it was determined that it was indeed high and not a fluke, my urine was tested (no protein) and I was sent to convenient care to have blood drawn. Those tests came back negative for preeclampsia, so I was scheduled for a follow up the next week, just to be safe.

At the follow up exam, I again had high blood pressure (which shocked me, since I felt fine) and was immediately told to report to the hospital for further testing. I was told it would probably last a day or two, and that I might have to go on bed rest for the rest of my pregnancy. The worst-case scenario at that time was that I'd be in the hospital on bed rest, so Pete and I were hoping I'd be sent home on bed rest. I packed my bags at home, tearfully said goodbye to my pets (thinking I'd be gone a few days and somewhat scared of what was happening), and headed over to the hospital.

Of course, I got to L & D and my blood pressure was fine. They also hooked up Jack to a fetal monitor (on my belly) just to see how he was doing. It was only supposed to be on for an hour or so, but it was left on a little bit longer, and just happened to pick up several heart rate dips. Concerned, the staff decided to keep me overnight for further monitoring. They said I'd probably go home in the morning, and that the heart rate dips were probably from Jack moving around or getting wrapped up in his cord. An ultrasound performed by an OB at the hospital looked okay. I was relieved and tried to get some sleep.

The next morning I woke up to a swarm of concerned doctors and nurses around my bed. They said Jack's heart rate dips had increased overnight, and that he was in distress in utero. A more detailed ultrasound was performed during which it was discovered that not only was he in distress, but that my amniotic fluid was low, Jack was not growing properly (measuring 22-23 weeks), and the placenta's reduced blood flow was failing to support Jack. If he was not delivered soon, we would be having a stillborn baby in a week or two.

Suddenly I was looking at having my baby any day, and I was terrified. I didn't even know whether babies could survive so young. Steroid shots and a magnesium drip were administered, and after a few days it was decided that Jack had to come out. Jack was born on Halloween at 12:54 p.m., after an emergency c-section, and he came out crying quite loudly for such a little guy, which was encouraging. He was promptly sent to the NICU, where he remains to this day, three months later.

I'm still not sure what happened. I tested negative for preeclampsia, and although I was found to have the MTHFR gene mutation, it wasn't a factor (I was tested for this). So, although we are going through this nightmare with Jack, Pete and I still talk about having another baby in the future (I am 36 and time's ticking). We are obviously terrified, and will have to have high risk counseling to figure out what happened with Jack and what to do with any subsequent pregnancies. We absolutely don't want to put another baby through this (or ourselves for that matter). Although that's not a concern at the moment, it's always in the back of my mind, and I do want answers to what happened with Jack.

Fast-forward to today...Jack is doing fairly well after having endured the usual onslaught of micropreemie issues—PDA, CLD, NEC, ROP, etc. There were times I didn't think he would make it (many times, in fact) and lived in dread for that sudden call from the NICU at any given moment (I still do, to be honest). I only recently started buying him clothes and such, since I was terrified I’d somehow jinx the outcome if I did/did not buy him things. Jack was on a ventilator/oscillator for the first month and a half of his life, then bubble CPAP, then a nasal cannula. Jack was off of oxygen for five days, but sadly has had to go back on it, although it's only room air that he's getting at a low flow. I'd been concerned about his blood oxygen levels slowing going down during the last several days since he's been off his cannula (from the high 90s as recently as Wednesday, to the low-mid 80s today), and they originally told me this is not unexpected and that he is still doing well in their eyes. But that did not stop me from worrying, however, as everything makes me worry these days. And sure enough, he's back on oxygen again.

Jack is still being fed by an NG tube (feeding tube in his nose), although he is learning to bottle and breast feed right now and is doing quite well at both. Jack is in stage 2, zone 3 of ROP (with Plus disease), but his eye doctor said that Jack's had no change for a few weeks now, which is encouraging, since he is leaving that "danger zone" gestationally for ROP complications. Hopefully this means his ROP will reverse itself and he won't need laser surgery, but I am still obviously very concerned and sick to my stomach every time his Friday eye exam rolls around.

What else? Besides having Chronic Lung Disease and suffering from a recent head cold (for three weeks now), Jack has issues with reflux. He is on Reglan to control the reflux, although it's only been a little more than a week since he's been on it. He desats and has bradys every time he spits up (low blood oxygen levels and heart rate dips), sometimes repeatedly, which is scary and frustrating. We have to keep him upright during bottle feeds, and reclined after each feeding of any kind.

Other recent developments are that his caffeine was just stopped yesterday, he's off Pulmicort as of last week, his diuretic is being phased out, he's on a formula fortifier to get him to gain weight (which he's been doing fantastically with for the last few weeks), he just moved to a crib on Wednesday (yay!), and he's receiving ongoing speech, physical, and occupational therapy. He has a strong right side preference, and is a little stinker about fighting the PTs' and nurses' efforts to turn him to the left. Pete and I have been doing exercises with him to work on his tone and flexibility, and although he has some tremors, they are typical for his age right now (so they are telling us) and are not of immediate concern.

Jack never had a brain bleed, but did have some fluid on his brain that was "at the far end of normal," according to one of his doctors. A recent ultrasound suggests this is no longer an issue, and an echocardiogram a few days ago has cleared Jack of any cardiac issues. His PDA closed with medication early on (thank God) and he hasn't really had any other heart issues since then.

I'm currently working to get Jack some SSI benefits, and I am always weeding through the usual red tape and paperwork of medical bills and insurance. So far, so good, although the mounting bills certainly don't help me rest well at night.

As of today, Jack's doctors are telling me he'll be home (most likely) in 2-3 weeks. We're discussing whether we'll be sent home with oxygen and feeding tubes, which is a scary prospect. I'm hoping he is able to wean himself off the oxygen and fully master the art of bottle and breast feeding before then. He's doing really well, and I certainly believe he can do both. But if he needs help, I'm here for him, and I'll do my best to take care of him.

I can't wait to have Jack home....

NICU Anxiety

(For some reason, Blogger isn't letting me upload photos today {I get a lot of HTML jibberish}, so this is one of the rare posts of mine without a photo.)

I'm stressing a bit right now, something that seems to hit me randomly as the weeks and months go on and on in the NICU. Today I went to the usual 11:00 feeding for Jack (he's learning to bottle feed), and a new nurse, Dani, was there with one of the regulars, Jane. Both are wonderful nurses and very sweet people, and greeted me with the usual smiles. I walked up to his crib, and Dani was performing a check on his lungs/heart/tummy with the stethoscope. She looked puzzled and asked Jane if she heard a murmur. I was surprised, since Jack's last echocardiogram was clean, and he's considered problem free in the cardiac department. Jane took a listen and confirmed the diagnosis of a murmur. I suddenly found myself crying, and ducked out of the way to get a kleenex. It happened so fast that they didn't even know I was crying, until I stepped back near the crib and they saw my face. Lots of consolation and soothing began, which made me cry even harder. Eventually I settled down, and was chatting and smiling with them, although I was still surprised at the sudden flow of tears, seemingly out of nowhere.

Then the speech therapist, Maha, came in, who works with Jack to teach him to feed. I sat down with Jack and started giving him a bottle. He was slow to start, and was not breathing well as he drank from the bottle. He started destatting quite a bit, and had some bradys (bradycardia, or heartrate dips), and again, the tears started flowing. The speech therapist didn't realize I was crying either, until I had to pass her the bottle so I could blow my nose and wipe my eyes. She was very nice and totally cool about my crying, but I was really embarrassed. The feeding continued, and I eventually got it together, as did Jack. We finished on a good note, with some loud burps from Jack and smiles too. But it was later passed along to one of Jack's doctors in the NICU that I had "showed anxiety" regarding his heart murmur. The doctor later stopped by to review Jack's day and listen to my concerns. I was a bit sheepish when he mentioned my "concern," but he was really nice about it, as everyone has been during the last 3+ months.

I'm not sure why I'm so embarrassed to cry while I'm there. I have no problem doing it in the car, or at home, or in front of Pete (he's really used to it by now). I'm sure I'm not the first person to cry in the NICU, and I'm definitely not the weepiest person ever. But for some reason I just have days where the anxiety is bubbling closer to the surface than it usually is, and I have a harder time controlling the emotions. I realized as I was driving home that I am under 24/7 stress, and have been for months now. That sort of stress and pressure will get to anyone, especially since it concerns my child, my baby, who has suffered since he was born (and even before that). I know he's doing really well right now, and his homecoming is on the horizon. Yet I still can't fully relax. Besides the constant stress of Jack's health on any given day (or even hour), there are the mounting medical bills (even with our good insurance), the reality that I'm still laid off and looking for work, with only occasional freelance jobs, the usual (growing) financial worries, worries about my own health and stamina, such things as staying in contact with friends and family, and of course the stress of daily life on top of all that.

I wish I could relax and let it all out, and feel free to cry at will. I've never been one of those people, and never will be, I think. I can distract myself from my own reality with thoughts about my upcoming baby shower and my registries, our furry children's antics (as annoying as they can be sometimes), my artistic pursuits, which have been put on hold for the last 3 months, and even basic things like going to a movie or playing with my new Wii. Pete is wonderful and supportive as always, but in a way, I'm burdened with the job of worrying for Jack. Pete does worry, don't get me wrong. But he is able to accept what is going on around him, and figures he won't waste time thinking about things until they're a real problem. He's also not involved with the daily care of Jack as much as I am, the medical bills, the social workers, the nurses and doctors (although he does visit Jack with me for several hours a day), and everything else going on behind the scenes. I am also still trying to get over what pregnancy and birth has done to my body, and am physically reminded on a continuous basis how traumatic Jack's birth and life has been for me so far, despite how wonderful and amazing he is.

Right now, my only consolation is to talk to others about it, blog about it, join micropreemie mom support groups, and to read about others' experiences, to know that I'm not alone, and to get questions and concerns answered. In the end, it's something I will continue to endure because I have received such a blessing and a gift in the form of my son.

The Preemie Experience by Sandra D. Moore

The preemie experience is the shattering of all your dreams
For a normal, healthy delivery,
Of the ability to carry home a beautiful squirming bundle
After a short stay in the hospital.

It is lying there in your hospital room listening to
The happy sounds of whole families joined
Together by the birth of a grandchild, cousin, niece,
Or nephew, and knowing that your
Child is miles away and may not survive long enough
For you to see or simply touch.

It is that first glimpse of a skinny, scrawny, not much bigger
Than a Barbie doll child
And feeling, fear, awe, and joy for such a fragile soul.

It is sitting by your baby’s “bedside” day after day,
Week after week, month after month,
Alternating between the emotional high of “Look, her eyes are open,” or “She’s crying!”
And the lows of “I’m sorry, Mrs. Moore. Something has
Shown up in Lauren’s ultrasound,”
Or even “There is nothing we can do…”

It is hearing the alarms go off for the twentieth time in less
Than fifteen minutes because your
Child’s heart rate keeps hitting zero.

It is watching children dying around you, wondering if
Your child will be next.It is hearing your child’s cry of distress as the nurses
Insert yet another IV and do another
Round of daily blood tests.
It is meeting other parents of children who are doing far better
And wondering, “Why me?”
And meeting parents of children who have just died,
And praising God for His mercy
To your child and feeling guilty because your child is alive
And someone else is grieving for theirs.
It is days of nightmarish testing and coping with less
Than positive results to the tests.
It is days of joy at seeing the first eyelash appear,
The child gain a whole ounce in one day,
And two bright shiny eyes look at you and into your soul,
And knowing that your child now recognizes you as Mama or Dada;
Or perhaps looks at you and does not see you at all…

It is that final hurdle before coming home!
It is the sorrow of waiting for the monitor company
Representative to show you what to do
If the alarm sounds when your child is choking,
Gasping for breath, or simply dying.
It is the joy of just being away from all those nurses
And tubes and wires and beeps, and
Walking into the nursery you hastily prepared because, after all,
The child wasn’t due for another three months!

It is thinking the nightmare is over…only to realize it still
Continues in the form of
Such acronyms as PVL, RSV, BPD, CP and numerous others.

It is the final realization that those developmental delays
Have to be dealt with,
That reflux is a normal and unfortunate occurrence in most preemies,
That the constant fight to gain weight is in direct proportion
To a preemie’s ability to do so.

It is watching a child struggle to pick up his or her head, sit,
Crawl, or walk.
It is witnessing only silence when the child should be babbling,
Because the child cannot hear.

It is the mental images of a child running and playing
And communicating with others in a
Perfectly normal manner that are marred when you face years of therapy
In order to simply get the child to eat by himself or herself,
To talk or walk and then run.

The preemie experience is a journey…
A journey through your soul in order to find the faith and strength to cope,
A journey of the mind when you face the emotional weariness,
A journey of the heart…to accept that, no matter what,
This child is yours,
And you will love this child no matter what.

Peter Fonda's coming to town!

This Saturday, Peter Fonda will be visiting the Hollywood Palms Theater in Naperville during a screening of "Easy Rider." Just like when Zuzu came to town, we'll get to meet him in person, get autographs, and listen to him talk a little about the movie before it begins. It should be fun and exciting.



Maybe Pete will be all crazy and do his Jack Nicholson impression for Mr. Fonda? It was such a hit last time when he did his best Jimmy Stewart and Mr. Potter imitations for Zuzu.

Bottle-drinking champ

Well, while I sit here waiting for the SSI social worker to call (uh hello, you said 11:00?), I figured I'd whip out a post.

Yesterday was awesome. I had a great call from the doctor regarding Jack's progress. Not only was his echocardiogram normal (meaning his heart is okay), but he may be getting off oxygen soon too! And that's not the best part....



Yes, Jack drank A FULL FEEDING from a bottle for the first time yesterday! I was so happy, I actually did a happy dance in my living room once I hung up with the doctor. I was really getting worried about this, since he's now 38 weeks as of today, and this is one of the things he needs to be able to do before he goes home. I was so thrilled to hear this news. And I was hoping he'd do another bottle feed when we visited him last night, but he was cranky and tired, and not up for it. He also had PT come in, and threw a fit while the therapist was there. But a change of diaper transformed his mood, as it always does.

I'm hoping to put him to breast soon, or at least nuzzle him (let him "play" with the breast and get used to it), but that hasn't happened yet. All in good time, I suppose. I wish I were at the hospital for his 11:00 feeding, but I can't go anywhere until this SSI person calls. Frustrating. I should have given them my cell phone number and not my home number.


Yeah, it's no big deal...I'm my father's son, remember? I LIVE to eat!

Well, I'm off to check my messages, just in case someone called while I was in the shower earlier. Just thought I'd share the good news with you all!

On the horizon...

My little peanut



He's getting so big. I bought some preemie outfits on clearance at Carter's last week, and they fit him quite well. Some of the onesies fit like a glove. I love this little outfit he has on, a striped onesie and some lion foot pants. So cute! And look how big our Jack-Jack is getting.



Pete and Jack have such a great relationship already. They love to nap together in the big lazy boy chair in Jack's room. Here it looks like they're having a discussion.



Anyhow, I am going to try to blog more regularly. I'm not sure how much time I'll have to check out other people's blogs, which I desperately miss. But I wanted to share with you all how things are going. People are concerned how Jack is doing, and I feel bad that I'm not updating as regularly as I could be.

I'm also debating how to chronicle Jack's life, and our life with Jack. I was thinking of starting a separate blog devoted to him, but I also pondered just continuing this one and posting here. I sure don't have time for extra writing, which would be required for a separate blog. But this blog has never been focused on any one thing in my life. I do think that I'd still want to talk about other things besides Jack though (perish the thought! lol). The furry children are all still here. My freelance work still continues to hum along, albeit slowly and sporadically. Pete and I still have our ups and downs (mostly ups). And of course, my love for shoes has not gone away since I became a mother, so there's always that. So I want to decide soon which way I go, because I really want to share my journey with you all as the mom of a micropreemie.

Anyhow, Jack is struggling with eating right now. He is almost 38 weeks gestationally (3+ months chronologically) and is falling behind on learning to bottle/breast feed due to a nagging head cold and bad reflux issues, which is common in preemies. And his chronic lung disease isn't going anywhere, sadly. They're possibly starting him on Reglan this week, to see if that helps the reflux. And bottle feeds are being started up again, after a week-long delay. I still haven't put him to breast yet, not even to nuzzle. All in good time, I suppose.

A fun thing on the horizon (besides planning for Jack to come home) is the planning of my baby shower. Yeah, I know, I'm doing it backwards by having the baby FIRST and THEN the baby shower, but that's life for ya. I'm excited to see how the party is being planned, and picking out stuff for my registry was a blast. I can't wait to be like other moms and push my baby around in a stroller, bathe him in a tub, tuck him into his crib, play with him, etc., all in my own home. I loved checking out the different travel systems and debating which one to choose. Lots of fun, but a bit overwhelming.

In the meantime, I'm behind on cleaning the floors in this house. I have to stay in mom-mode, as I call it, and I have a duty to keep this house as clean as possible for Jack's eventual homecoming. I'm off to vacuum with my Bissell Pet Hair Eraser and Featherweight vacuums. Good times, right?




Have a lovely Wednesday!

How Preemie Moms Are Chosen (Adapted from Erma Bombeck)

Did you ever wonder how the mothers of premature babies are chosen? Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth, selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger. "Beth Armstrong, son. Patron Saint, Matthew. Marjorie Forrest, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia. Carrie Rutledge, twins. Patron Saint...give her Gerard. He's used to profanity." Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a preemie."

The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."

"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a premature baby a mother who knows no laughter? That would be cruel."

"But does she have the patience?" asks the angel.

"I don't want her to have too much patience, or she'll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has a world of its own. She has to make it live in her world, and that's not going to be easy."

"But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."

God smiles. "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just the right amount of selfishness."

The angel gasps, "Selfishness?! Is that a virtue?"

God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't know it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says 'mama' for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see—ignorance, cruelty, prejudice—and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."

"And what about her Patron Saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in the air. God smiles.

"A mirror will suffice."

Baby Jack Update, 1-17-10

Wow...I look at that picture from November, and I'm amazed at how much Jack has changed since then. Look at my cute little elf! Here he his, sucking on his beloved pacifier:

If you haven't noticed, I am not currently blogging, due to the situation with Jack and the incredible amount of time and energy I have been devoting to his care. I have been prepping our house for his eventual homecoming, which I am hoping will be mid to late February, as the doctors have suggested (nothing is written in stone, however). That has entailed lots of scrubbing, hauling boxes, moving furniture, etc., since he will still be rather fragile when he comes home (and for a long time afterward) and needs an exceptionally clean environment.

In addition, there are the daily visits to Jack that usually end up being 4-5 hours at a minimum, but are usually longer. The visits are wonderful, and filled with kangaroo time, teaching him to feed, and meeting with doctors, nurses, and various therapists. Add to that the seemingly endless pumping I must do (I'm usually good for 6-8 a day, although I should do more) and the continued daily life on the side that everyone experiences, which still includes job hunting and freelancing, and you can see why I am so overwhelmed most days. My bloodpressure continues to be an issue, although I'm hopeful I can get off the medication as I lose weight (which is another burden for me right now) and exercise more. There is just not enough time in the day, and I am always tired, but I'm a mommy and I have a purpose, and that keeps me going.

Anyhow, Jack is doing great at the moment. He is 11 weeks old, 36 weeks gestation, and weighs a whopping 1490 g (3 lb 4 1/2 oz). He has ROP (retinopathy of prematurity) but it's still at stage 2, zone 2, and hasn't really changed from last week. We are hopeful that it regresses like it does for many preemies. Jack is usually breathing room air (21% oxygen) and at a low flow (.9 L) on a nasal cannula. His feedings are up to 27 cc every 3 hrs, with fat and protein being added to my breast milk for weight gain. Jack is working with various therapists to learn how to eat and strengthen his muscles. Best of all, he is blossoming into a beautiful little baby boy, with a very vibrant personality...although we, as his parents, might be a little biased.

Thanks, as always, for the prayers and well wishes for our little "spitfire," as one of his nurses called him yesterday...it means the world to Pete and me. I love reading your comments, and it makes me feel good to know so many people out there care. I hope to update everyone more frequently than I have been, but I have a feeling I'll have my hands full for the next few months.

Hope you are all having a wonderful 2010!

Baby Jack Update, 11-25-09

Baby Jack, 11-17-09


Baby Jack is hanging in there. He had a tough week or two, but for the last several days he's been doing much better, thank God. He is gaining weight and getting stronger by the day. Tomorrow he'll be 29 weeks old. Pete and I are very in love with our little baby boy.

I'm still healing, which has been a slow road process for me. I'm also fighting high blood pressure, for which I'm taking medication now. Otherwise I have good days and bad days, depending on how I'm doing physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Thank you for all your words of encouragement and support. I haven't been able to blog since having Baby Jack, but just know that I appreciate all the comments and letters.

Our Halloween miracle

Peter Jack Hoover Hoogestraat
Born 10-31-2009
1 lb, 4 oz and 11 inches long
25 weeks, 2 days



Jack today, at 26 weeks, 5 days

Stay strong and fight, our little jackrabbit. Mommy and daddy love you :)

Makin' groomki with ma

On Monday I got to hang out with my mom for the day, and she took the time to teach me how to make a Polish dish called groomki—I am sure I'm totally misspelling this, but I can't find the name anywhere online. Essentially, it's rice and hamburger mixed together, which is then rolled up in a cooked cabbage leaf and covered with tomato sauce. I ate that from time to time as a kid, and Pete had actually heard of it before.

So I figured I'd learn how to make it, and it was pretty easy to make. Of course, Pete doctored his with shredded cheese, Ragu, cayenne pepper, and any other number of ingredients. We both had a couple of the rolls, and the dogs were drooling over it—even Spanky, who wasn't feeling well that night. Next recipe to learn: ma's egg bread.

Now it's Spanky's turn

Our little man-fox Spanky (that's what Pete calls him) isn't feeling so well today, so I'm taking him to the vet. Pete and I were gone most of the day yesterday, and when we got home, we discovered he had puked in a few places around the house, and continued to puke on and off all night. Early this morning he was still puking, and although he hasn't puked since then, he isn't eating at all and looks miserable.

So now we'll "go see doctor," as I like to tell the animals when they don't know what's going on. They know what this phrase means, and I don't think Spanky is happy about it, but hopefully he'll get his tummy checked and will be feeling better soon.

And yeah, if you're keeping count, that's three pets in the last month that have been sick. The only one who's escaped this fate so far is Max. Hopefully he stays healthy, and this little curse of illness upon the Hoogestraat household ends with Spanky.

Peds with Jen

Today Jen is treating me to a pedicure, a raincheck on a birthday gift from almost two months ago. I was in the middle of freelance mania back then and didn't have time to go with her. But now we're both ready to go, and sorely in need of a good trim and paint job. It's much too hard for me to reach my toes nowadays, so this will be quite the treat. I can't wait to relax in the chair, read magazines, and gossip with Jen while we watch stupid game shows on the shop's tv.

Hope your Sunday is just as relaxing as ours is. Ahhhhhh!

(Image from slideshow.ivillage.com)

Memorial for Sandy

Today Pete and I are attending a memorial for Sandy, my aunt who passed away back in April. It's been a long time coming, and I'm sure it'll be an emotional event for everyone in the family.



I made a memorial board for her service (see above) that I think she would have liked. We don't have many pictures of her, so I figured I'd make it as nice and special as possible. I had leftover stuff from my wedding scrapbooking days (something I never finished), and it fit in perfectly with her memorial board.



We also have a communion picture (above) that was recently found in one of my grand aunt's trunks, who had passed away a few years ago. The picture is in excellent condition and stands up on its own, so I'm going to set it next to the board as part of the display.

As I mentioned, it's a long overdue service. But we all feel grateful that we can honor her in some way, and share our favorite memories of our beloved Sandy.

The Goofy-Pluto puzzle

I noticed the other day that there's a bit of weirdness on my dogs' bag of treats. A cartoon dog cowboy, standing upright and decked out in cowboy gear including shirt, pants, and a hat, is holding up a freshly grilled piece of chicken...while another dog, who is NOT attired and is on all fours, eyes the meat and licks its lips. So, um, yeah, I'm puzzled by this, just as many have been puzzled by the Goofy versus Pluto mystery. Why is one like a person, and one is like...a dog? Hmmm....

(So) happy together

I'm not sure why, but lately Pete and I have been in a really good place, as far as our relationship goes. We don't fight much, we have really interesting conversations, and we laugh and cuddle more than ever. Not that we were always fighting like cats and dogs before, but there just seems to be a sense of harmony that has settled over our home. Despite the extremely tight finances (uh, hello unemployment, furlough days, and tons of medical bills) and the usual bumpy road we travel called life, we've been pretty mellow and happy.

I think we are also both happy (and a bit scared) about Baby Jack coming, and are enjoying this strange journey together (where DID that belly come from???). I think Pete is settling into not only his role as a husband, but as a father and provider, and perhaps is enjoying it more and more. He is ready to take on his new roles, and seems to be so excited to make a difference in someone's life (Jack's).

So yeah, we're happy. It's a good place to be, and I hope it only gets better from here.

A bit of (cheap) bling for my iPhone

My iPhone has been suffering lately. Although I'm pretty careful with it, and I have had a cover on it from day one (a hot pink silicone model), I do tend to throw it in my purse or pocket from time to time. And it does sometimes end up on the floor (accidentally, of course), through which it suffers quietly, but with no ill effects so far (thank God!).

Matt, Sam, and Mani have all gotten iPhones this past weekend, which has strangely made me excited for them. I shouldn't say strangely, because I'm weird like that. If someone gets something cool, especially if it's something I already own and that I know they'll love, I almost get more excited about it that the person getting the new thing. I had lots of fun hanging out with Matt this weekend and showing him all the apps, features, and little tricks and treats that come with his shiny new toy.

And I realized, looking at his pretty new iPhone, that mine has been neglected as of late. For something that has helped me so much, and that has entertained me for hours, I sure have not been babying it like I should (hey, I've got other things on my mind, lol). I figured I could at least upgrade the case it's in. The silicone case is looking pretty sad these days, with a couple of rips in the corners. Now, that alone wouldn't make me get a new case, but the rips cause the case to come off the phone very easily now, which causes the phone to either drop out of the case (bad when I'm walking around holding the phone), or for my hair/debris/scratches to get in there under the case. The hair thing is the worst, because it pulls my hair out when I'm talking to someone on the phone (it gets stuck in the case via those rips) and I end up yanking out a few precious strands at least a couple times a week. Ouch.


Matt and Pete, discussing iPhones, history, and life in general at Starbucks this weekend

So, after looking at Matt's pretty black leather case, I decided I should properly protect my investment and get a new case. But for me, this is no easy task. I'm a very, very picky person when it comes to stuff like this, and at the time I bought my case last year, there wasn't much to choose from. I went with hot pink silicone since Pete chose the basic black silicone (I don't want to mix up our phones). Even though I love Matt's black leather case, Pete had his phone stolen earlier this year, and ended up getting a new phone and a newer, better silicone case—but it's still a black case, so that color is a no no for me.

The online search then began, and I spent hours (I toldja I was picky) looking for just the right case. There were plenty of red leather ones online (I like red), but none of them were quite what I was looking for. I saw some nice silicone ones too, but they just weren't as appealing to me, now that I've had a silicone case for almost a year and a half. Then I saw this:



And I thought, oooooh, pretty! But for the price, I wanted to be super duper sure I liked it. And being the consummate online bargain shopper, I didn't just feel like plunking down the cash for it, until I was sure there was nothing else cheaper (or a cheaper source for this model). So the search continued, and I was lucky enough to stumble upon this one at Overstock.com:



I read reviews, checked out other competitors, and decided to go with the cheaper one from Overstock. I figure it's almost a third of the cost of the Case-Mate one, and if I truly like it, great, I saved money. If it doesn't work out, then I saved money on something I don't like. And it allowed me to get a nice red leather pouch in which to carry it (in my purse or car, where it tends to get knocked around a lot):



The coolest feature about the chrome cover? It comes with a mirrored screen protector:



Now yes, I've heard it's a bit hard to see in bright sunlight, so I'll determine whether I actually use the screen protector (I also have a clear one that Matt gave me on Saturday). But either way, it's a nice little upgrade for a device that has more than paid for itself since I bought it. And it's nice to go on a little shopping spree, even if I spent less than $30 total on my "crazy" purchases.

Out for a stroll

Pete, the dogs, and I went for a stroll on Sunday. It was a gorgeous day, and I hadn't been walking for a while (the last time was during our camping trip). I had a great time, although I really got tired about 2/3 of the way into the walk. Baby Jack was pressing on my bladder, I was tired, and my legs were itching like mad—ever get that weird itchiness? It happens to me after I shave sometimes, especially when I used to go running (not doing that now, lol!).

Anyhow, I think I was a bit whiny, and Pete felt bad because I was uncomfortable. (Him: "You're tired? Really?" Me: "Uh, yeah! I'm lugging around an extra 30 pounds here!") But it was cute because we ran into some of his friends, and he was proudly showing off my big belly and telling everyone how happy he was to have his son on the way. So it was worth any discomfort to me to be out in the sunshine with my hubby and dogs, enjoying the vivid colors and warm sun, and stretching my (achy) legs a bit.