EmLouisa

So I did it.  Or more like WE did it.  Thursday I drove down to Utah with friends for the Wasatch Back Ragnar Relay.  Over about 35 hours we ran from Logan to Park City, Utah, about 180 miles over hills and mountains.  And now, I’m tired.  Sleepy.  And my muscles hurt.  Muscles that I didn’t know I actually had hurt. 

Thursday night twelve runners, two drivers and our team trainer met in Logan where we reserved four hotel rooms and all tried to sleep.  Except we were all too excited and couldn’t sleep.  At least I couldn’t.  I probably slept for about two hours.  Nothing worse than laying there, staring at the clock and thinking, “I need to sleep!  Tomorrow I will get no sleep!  GO TO SLEEP!”  I tried every relaxation exercise I could think of.  Nada.  Holy Frustration Batman! 

Before the race: Top L to R Jenn H (team trainer), Emily (me), Jenn O, Sarah, Julie, Deanna, Marinda, Linsey (driver), Cara, Brooke (driver), Middle: Shelah, Sheree, Bottom: Kristin, Melodee, Malinda.  One of us is pregnant. (which is the 1/9th in our clever little tagline…can’t say who yet since they haven’t exactly told the family.  And no, it isn’t me)

Friday morning we woke up bright and early to get to our 7:40 start time.  We watched Shelah take off and then hurried to the next exchange so I could get ready to go.  By the time we got there I was totally flustered and nervous.  I couldn’t find my hat and I wanted my hat.  I tore the van apart looking for my hat.  Other people helped me look for the hat to no avail.  We gave up looking for the hat, then of course I found it.  In my purse that I had been carrying the entire time.  Yeah.

I put on sunblock and Body Glide and all the sudden everyone was yelling, “Emily, she’s here!  Shelah’s here! You’ve got to go!!!”  Who what huh?  I was totally frazzled, grabbed the slap bracelet and started running.  I didn’t have time to stretch out, my iPod wasn’t hooked up (the HORROR!) and I felt completely unprepared.  I just ran and tried to calm myself a bit. 

My first Leg was Leg 2, 6.7 miles from Nibley to Hyrum, Utah.  I spent half of this leg mad that I forgot my Nike + iPod plugin at home and therefore had no idea how far I had gone.  The MOFIA van caught up with me and I asked them how far I had gone and they said about 1.5 miles.  Hmm.  I thought it was almost 3.  Argh…  Then I passed a “GO MOFIA GO!” sign and I decided that it didn’t matter how far I had gone or how much time had passed, I would just run.  When I got towards the latter part of the race I saw our van sitting on the side of the road with our friend Megan and her kids.  They were holding GO MOFIA signs.  It was so sweet!  So of course I bawled like a baby.  Wouldn’t be the last time on this crazy journey.

I ran through Hyrum and the whole time thought about how Greg and I should move back that area or at least visit.  I had forgotten how beautiful the Cache Valley is.  LOVE it!  Maybe we’ll retire there in a billion years or when we strike it rich, whichever happens first.

Ain’t it purdy?

I finished my leg and passed off to Sarah.  She took off like a bandit and then had to dodge dogs the entire time.  Dogs scare Sarah more than anyone I know, so of course she had a lot of dogs on her runs.  We leapfrogged her a couple of times and tried to scare them away.  Poor girl. 

Van 1– Top L-R Marinda, Julie, Emily (me), Shelah, Sarah.  Bottom L-R Brooke, Jenn H, Melodee

Dancing to the Winder Dairy Tunes.  They had a stereo strapped to the top of the car and played lots of groovy tunes.  Most of the vans were decorated and some got really creative!

After Sarah, Julie ran.  Then Marinda, then Melodee.  The further we got into the race, the more humbled I got.  These girls did some major hill action.   Rocky and uneven dirt roads, breathing dust from the cars, the heat. I had nothing to complain about.  (I still complained though!) 

Marinda took time during her run to put flowers in her hair, the hippy that she is.  I knew all the other Wasatch Back girls but had never met Marinda.  She is awesome!  I’m glad to call her my friend.

When Melodee was done she passed off to Kristin, who was in Van 2.  Then Van 1 drove to Snowbasin Ski Resort where we got to eat real food (not just nasty bagels and sport beans), pee in real bathrooms and lay down on a real lawn in real shade.  Ahhhh.  Still no sleeping though.  Resting, but no sleeping.

By this time it was hot.  Really hot.  And since we drove up the mountain to Snowbasin, we knew how tough it would be for the Van 2 runners to RUN up to Snowbasin.  We were all grateful not to be in Van 2 at that point. 

We waited for Deanna to finish her leg so we could begin ours.  It was probably about 85 degrees at this point.  Running on asphalt made it that much hotter.  Deanna came in and Shelah left.  I vowed to be more prepared this time.  I filled my water bottle with ice when we were at Snowbasin.  I got my iPod ready.  Applied more sunblock and Body Glide.  Stretched. 

Shelah came in and passed off to me.  I was actually excited about this run!  Three easy miles from Mountain Green to Peterson.  I could totally do this!  I took off and tried to just enjoy it.  Then the heat got to me.  I tried to drink water but my water had gone from ice cold to hot.  Blech.  The only thing that saved me was some kids on the side of the road spraying runners with a hose.  I should have asked them for some cold water.  I was so hot.  And my knee that bothers me occasionally started bothering me.  And I was tired, so very tired.  Thinking that I couldn’t go on kind of tired.

Then I rounded a corner and there was a hill.  I swore.  I went from Happy Runner to Why The $%^& Am I Doing This? Runner.  I started running up the hill and tried not to cry.  Then the person in front of me started walking.  And the person in front of her started walking.  Pretty soon every person I could see was walking.  I gave up and walked too.  I was TICKED at myself.  

I got close to the top and started running again.  The exchange was at the bottom of the hill.  I passed the slap bracelet to Sarah and burst into tears.  My knee hurt, I was emotionally and physically drained.  Jenn ran to get me an ice pack and I went to the front of the van and just bawled for a couple of minutes.  I was so mad at myself for walking!    My goal at the beginning of the race was not to walk.  I didn’t care what time I got, I just didn’t want to walk. My teammates threw their arms around me and told me it was okay.  Shelah told me that she had to walk too and that made me feel a zillion times better.  If Super Woman had to walk, it was okay if I did too, right?  (We will pretend not to notice that the hill she walked on was a lot harder than mine AND a lot longer, right?)

Everyone had pretty good runs after that.  It cooled down outside and started to get dark.  So dark that we lost Melodee who was running beside a really big dude that blocked our view of her.  Not cool.  We caught up with her at the next exchange around 11pm and then handed off to Van 2.

After that we headed to North Summit High School in Coalville, Utah to get some foodage and rest our weary heads.  We had Cafeteria Style Fazoli’s (I’m still shuddering at the thought) and then headed for the gym with our sleeping bags.  You’d think that sleeping on a gym floor with 200 other people would be awful but it really wasn’t.  Every person in there was dead tired.  There was no noise except for the occasional snore.  And we were all so exhausted that sleeping on a hard floor actually felt relaxing.  It was the best two hours ever.  Then I woke up, had to pee and couldn’t get back to sleep.

We got up at 3:30 am and headed to the next exchange to meet Van 2.  We were beat.  Shelah got started on her run and we headed to the next exchange.  I wanted to cry the entire way there.  Or throw up.  Or go to sleep, I’m not sure which.  Possibly all three simultaneously.  I ate some Gu, which luckily had caffeine.  Julie asked if we could say a prayer and asked Heavenly Father to bless us with good attitudes and the ability to accomplish what we needed to.  I tried not to cry.

Before my race.

My run started.  I SO did not want to do it.  It was 5.3 miles.  The sun started coming up.  The music on my iPod was good.  I borrowed a watch so I could check the time.  The caffeine kicked in.  I felt fantastic.  I ran with a smile.  My van came driving up and asked if I was okay and I shocked them when I told them I was doing GREAT and hey, wasn’t it beautiful outside?  Some serious Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde action going on there.

I talked to the runners and all the support vans.  A dude that was totally limping ran by me.  I yelled, “HEY!!!  NO FAIR!  You’re limping and you are STILL passing me!!”  He slowed down a bit and said, “I’m so sorry, if you want I can just stay back with you.  Do you want me to?”  I chuckled.  “I’m comfortable enough in my slowness thankyouverymuch.  Run, dude!” 

And that right there is why I loved the Wasatch Back.  Some dude that didn’t even know me totally would have stuck with me if I would have asked.  That is cool.

I finished my race all yelling and pumping my fists in the air.  My team was totally laughing at me.  I was SO glad I was finished.  And I didn’t even have to walk on my last leg!  Wahoo!

Me looking lovely but feeling GREAT!

After my leg was Sarah, who did amazingly.  Then Julie started.  Her knee was killing her.  She could hardly walk after her run the day before.  She got about 1/4 mile when we caught up to her.  She was bawling.  She couldn’t do it.  We all cried for her.  She trained so hard and had to give up on her last leg.  She was devestated. 

Shelah took her place and ran the rest of the 5 mile leg.  While Shelah was running the other van called us and said that Kristin was really sick and needed to be taken to the hospital.  She was completely dehydrated from throwing up and having diarrhea all night long.  We met the other van at the exchange and picked up Kristin.  Shelah and Melodee ran her leg.  In all Shelah ran about 25 miles over the 36 hours.  Not only is she amazing because she could do that, she is amazing because she DID do that.  She really got what the race was all about.  Working as a team and supporting each other.  I’m amazed by her. 

We had Taco Bell in Heber City and spent the entire time trying to talk Kristin into going to Urgent Care.  She was so sick.  She couldn’t even muster the strength to make sarcastic and witty comments.  She finally agreed to go and got IV fluids.  She bounded out of that clinic like nothing was ever wrong.  A snarky comment here, a cuss word there, Kristin was BACK. 

We went straight from Urgent Care to the finish line so we could all run in with Deanna.  Van 2 got there just in time.  We sprinted, ran, jogged and hobbled across the finish line, threw our arms around each other and cried some more.  We totally did it.

Finish Line Top L to R:  Cara, Jenn H (trainer), Linsey (driver) Marinda, Shelah, Sarah, Julie, Deanna, Brooke.  Bottom L to R:  Emily (me) Jenn O, Sheree, Melodee, Kristin.

I thought the Wasatch Back would be all about running.  In the end it was so much more.  It was heat, exhaustion, lack of sleep.  It was emotional turmoil.  It was watching my friends work hard at something that they thought was impossible.  It was watching them suceed.   It was crying with them when their bodies betrayed them. It was enduring when we wanted to give up. It was friendship, loyalty and love. 

It sucked.  But I SO want to do it again. 

Because tomorrow I am running 15 miles in a relay race with some awesome MOFs.  I’m excited, scared, excited and…scared.  And hoping I don’t have to take a potty break in the middle.  Yeah.

I’ll let you know how it goes. 

After 48 hours of contractions less than five minutes apart and after three hours of pushing, stubborn Baby O is finally here!!!  She arrived on her due date, Tuesday, June 3 at 2:31am.  She is 7 lbs 15 oz and is 20 inches.  Mom and baby are both doing great!  Samantha did a fabulous job delivering her.  She’s my hero!!!

My version of the birth story: 

Samantha called at 3:40 am on Sunday June 1.  Her contractions were five minutes apart and had been that way for about an hour.  I headed to her house and after watching the contractions for an hour more we decided to head to the hospital.  She was only “fingertip” dilated when we got there so they sent us home.  They gave Samantha some Demoral to take the edge off of the contractions and told her to go home and labor until the contractions were 2-3 minutes apart.  We headed back to our house and her best friend Jen showed up around 5pm.  At that point the contractions were really close together so we headed back to the hospital around 7pm on Sunday. 

They checked her again at the hospital and she was only dilated to a 1.  So frustrating!  By the time we got back to the hospital the contractions had slowed down to 5 minutes apart so they sent us home again.  At this point Samantha was really tired.  She hadn’t slept since noon on Saturday and couldn’t sleep because the contractions were coming so quickly and so hard.  It was a really long night for both of us! 

My mom left Salt Lake around 3:30 am on Monday so that she wouldn’t miss anything.  She got here around 9.  Samantha called the doctor’s office around 8 and asked if she could come in to be checked and to get her membranes stripped.  They told us to go to triage again to be checked and that the doctor would meet us there.  She was STILL only dilated to a one by the time we got there!!!!  The doctor ended up having to go into surgery so they wanted us to go to his office in the afternoon.  We came back to my house for a couple of hours and let Samantha try to sleep while we went for a quick lunch.

We got to the doctor’s office around 2pm.  He checked her and she was at a 3 finally (hooray for progress!) and stripped her membranes.  He told us to go find something to do for an hour, then to head back to the hospital.  He wanted us to tell them that when he checked her the hour before, she was only at a 1, that way there would be a big change in an hour and they would admit her.    We figured a white lie wouldn’t hurt anyone so off we went.  (after Samantha told him to just cut the dang baby out of her, lol!  She was SOOOO done at that point!)

When we got back to triage Sam was between 3-4 so they admitted her and started getting everything ready for her epidural.  She got the epidural around 5pm, she was still at a 4.  He broke her water and they gave her pitocin to try to make her contractions a little bit more regular and effective. 

 After her epidural she was doing great!!  My mom, Jen, Sam and I just spent the next few hours laughing and talking and having a grand old time.  It was a lot of fun!  The nurses called us the Party Room and said we were like, totally awesome to hang out with.  We gave everyone names that came in the room.  The epidural man was the Epidural Fairy but he didn’t like that so we changed it to Epidural Superhero of the Universe.  He liked that much better.  We told Samantha that we were Team Vag, there to help her at every turn.  We made gross jokes about her “swollen pie balls” a la Juno-style.  My mom was a little disgusted at Jen and I.   

She was still at a 4 around 8:30 or so and around 9:15 they checked her again because she was feeling lots of pressure.  She was already at a 10!!!!!

The doctor didn’t want her to push very long because of her heart condition so they moved her around and tried to get the baby to get into position before pushing.  She started pushing around 11:30.  This is also around the time that her epidural wore off, the lucky girl!  The baby was sunny side up so the doctor had to turn her.  She turned around again so he had to turn her twice!  She pushed and pushed and pushed. She was exhausted! 

She had AWESOME nurses though and an AWESOME doc that knew just what to say to her.  One of the nurses said, “SAMANTHA, look at me.  Your body was made to do this.  You were BORN to do this”.  The change in her was amazing.  She got this determined look on her face and the next thing we knew the baby was crowning.  The doctor let her feel the top of her head and Sam started crying.  It was like this tiny golf ball and then all the sudden a tennis ball and then all the sudden there was a squished up ear and then a chubby, squinty little face.   Dr. H let her reach down and pull her onto her chest.  We were all crying and just squealing with delight.  O cried a bit and let us know she was unhappy with the world.  She is SO CUTE!!!!  She was born at 2:31am.

The squishy baby…we’re all glad her nose popped out a bit. 

After it was all over the doctor told me that he was planning to let me deliver her but her hand was up by her head so it was a little tricky and he had to do it himself.  He had even gotten gloves out for me!  I’m bummed that it didn’t work out but the thought of it was still just as cool, without the pesky mess!).  It’s nice that he wanted to let me do that, even if it was because he felt sorry for me and all my crappy births.  I love that guy!

As I was driving Team Vag home after the birth I had to keep myself from crying.  You know, I really didn’t know what I was missing having c-sections.  With a vag birth it is this huge climatic experience that is so incredibly amazing.  PUSHING something out of your body that grew there.  What an amazing thing!!!!!  With both of my c-sections there is this kind of casualness about it.  The doctor’s are talking about their new pools and their golf game as they are pulling out my kid.  I don’t get to pull my baby onto my chest.  I can’t even hold them until after I’m all stitched up and recovered. 

So I’m so grateful for this experience, but sad too.  There are pluses to c-sections as well but man, that whole vaginal birth thing is absolutely amazing.  Actually, I kinda think that’s why Dr. H was acting the way he was.  He kept giving me weird smiles and asking me how I was doing.  After the birth he came over and gave me a HUGE hug and asked me if I was okay.  And I was, until I had time to think about it.  It’s been a couple weeks now and I’m feeling better about the situation.

TEAM VAG (why we didn’t take good pictures of ourselves I’ll never know):

Jen, Sam and O

O, Sam, my mom and me

The whole entire experience was absolutely amazing.  It was one of the coolest things I have ever seen in my entire life.  It is truly a miracle and I feel blessed to be able to participate in something so sacred and wonderful.  It was amazing!!!  And I was so proud of Samantha.  She totally stayed on top of her contractions and even though she felt like she was freaking out on the inside, you never would have known it.  She stayed calm and collected the entire time.  She was totally in the zone, even if she DID hate every second of it.  She only got mad at my twice, both for my loud annoying voice.  Oh and once for eating a tuna fish sandwich and then breathing in her face.  Oops.  That one was totally deserved.  What was I thinking?

Baby O is adorable.  She squeals like a pig when she cries and it’s the cutest thing ever.  She smells good too.  Like a baby.  A girl baby.  I totally want one.  Now I just have to use my womanly powers to talk Greg into it.  Luckily I’m shooting for the 09-09-09 baby so I have a few months to work on him. 

Proud Mama.  I’m not sure she’s put her down since she was born.  That baby is LOVED.

One day old and the cutest thing EVER.

I’ll post more pictures of her later.  I haven’t taken any, because when she is here I am holding her (when I can rip her away from her mommy) and kissing her squishy cheeks.  I’ll work on it though.  For you.

—A-Boy’s new favorite cereal is Bucky Charms.  I’m picturing the leprechaun with a backwards cap and missing teeth, a la redneck style.  A-Boy says it is his new favorite, but really, the only part that is his favorite is the marshmallows.  He leaves the actual cereal part and reminds me once again why we do not normally buy Bucky Charms.

—I can run 9 miles.  Yup.  Check me out.  I’ve had to pop ibuprofen ever since but hey, I ran it!  This is good, since I am running that relay race the third week in June.  Hopefully I’ll be prepared.  And hopefully my knee will stop throbbing. 

—A-Boy is quite the crooner.  Last week was the End of Year Program at A-Boy’s preschool.  They sang songs, counted to 30, named colors, signed the first letter of their names, and sang some more.  A-Boy sang a solo, which I strangely did not record.  But here he is singing with his class, one octave and ten volumes above all the other three year olds.  My favorite part is the end, when he proudly claps.  Yeah, he isn’t basking in the spotlight at ALL.  I wonder who he is related to.

Speaking of basking in the spotlight, Olivia has yet to make her debut.  We are all tired of waiting.  Even *I* have been nesting.  I went through the kiddie toys yesterday, went through closets and found…The Parent Trap VHS.  It was in the bottom of a box labeled “Misc.” underneath two other boxes.  I’ve only been looking for it for two years now. Also found in the box:  A video of Sam and me when we were teenagers, a frisbee, a yo yo, glow in the dark planets, a billion picture frames and a Pez Dispenser.  I cannot WAIT to check out the video of Sam and me.  Maybe it will be frightening enough to induce labor.

I am now batting for my own team.  Ha ha.  This month I became a director with this wickless candle company.  I’m excited!  This is a big thing for me, although you may not be excited about it since it is what keeps me from blogging.  It keeps me busy but I love it so it is worth it.  All the hard work I have put in the past year is paying off!  Wahoo!

So there you go.  Two posts in one week.  You are impressed, eh?

My sister Samantha was all excited when she saw a new post here the other day, then realized it was not a new post, it had just been so long since I had posted that she THOUGHT it was a new one.  I took the hint. 

I always say I am going to write and that I’m going to be better and then I don’t.  So this time I’m not promising anything.  I’ll get to it when I can, Bucko.  Quit your complaining.  I have reasons for my slackerness.  For one, I have been busy taking childbirth prep classes with Samantha, who is due in about a week.  I get to be her birth partner.  Wiping her brow, fetching her ice chips, pulling out the pom poms as I cheer her way to victory.  I am excited, but also nervous.  Because as my brother put it, “How are YOU going to help her push a baby out?  You couldn’t even push out your own!”  I’d be mad, but he does have a point.  I have no idea what I’m doing.  And as usual, he was just trying to be funny at my expense.

Birthing class is a whole different experience when you are not the pregnant one.  There is all sorts of pressure put on the support partner.  I’m supposed to time contractions.  I’m supposed to know when to go to the hospital.  I’m supposed to remind her to breathe, I’m supposed to give her techniques.  I am supposed to be ready with chapstick, clean socks and essential oils.  I am supposed to massage her, but only if she wants me too and is wearing clothing.  (that last rule is mine…I don’t like touching her bare skin, no matter how smooth and silky it may be…bleh)  I am supposed to talk, or not talk.  I’m not supposed to breathe in her face, eat around her or do anything annoying.  And under no circumstances am I to tell her that she is being a wuss or that “it can’t be that bad”.  Which means that in the past, support partners have done this or they wouldn’t have to tell us NOT to do it.  I wonder how hard they got smacked.

So I’m a little freaked out.  Excited though.  My hospital bag is packed.  I’ve got banana chips, Carmex and Runner’s World Magazine.  I picture myself reading exerpts to her about fartleks and pronation.  You know, stuff she’s interested in. 

She is 39 weeks on Monday so naturally she is miserable.  I took this picture of her today before we went to see Oldiana Jones and the Crystal Skull (which I loved, by the way).  This red shirt is one of two in the Maternity Clothes That Still Fit and Cover the Belly Rotation.  Poor girl.  Her toes are like little vienna sausages poking out of bread dough.  Hopefully it will all be over soon and she can go back to wearing more than two outfits and shoes that aren’t Old Navy flip flops.

All kidding aside, I’m pretty excited.  I really really really really wanted to be her birth partner and every time she talked about the birth I was screaming ASK ME TO BE YOUR BIRTH PARTNER from the inside.  The day she asked me I said, “cool” and acted all casual about it, when really I was freaking out with excitement.  Sam and I have become very close over the past year and a half.  I can’t wait to watch her become a mommy.

Baby Olivia, it’s time to come out now!!!    

Last night as I was brushing my teeth my my wandered, as it does when I’m doing menial tasks or even not-so-menial tasks.  All the sudden the thought came to me, “When on earth was your last period?”  Um…yeah.  When on earth WAS my last period?  I continued brushing, my heart racing.  I tried to do the math.  I tried not to freak out.  I finished brushing and asked Greg.  Deer in the headlights.  He had no idea either.  We scrambled for a calendar.  We argued over dates.  The last definite one I could remember was in December.  What the heck?

We decided to go to bed.  We layed there staring at the ceiling, me getting more and more worked up.  How could this happen?  (Well, I know how it happens, I don’t need explaining.  Thanks.)  Finally I got up, put on some shoes and a heavy coat to cover my braless self and headed to Albertson’s.  Gotta go get a stick so I can pee on it.  I got there at 12:05, Albertson’s closes at midnight.  *sigh* 

Walmart was the next stop, although its kind of a drive and shopping their makes me agitated and annoyed at the world.  I didn’t know where else to go at this time of night.  Walmart is scary in the middle of the night.  I clutched my purse and held on to my keys just in case I needed to gouge someone’s eyes out.  Cause you know, I probably would and stuff.  I grabbed the test and walked to the front.

It’s always an experience buying pregnancy tests and the like.  The cashier either tries to ignore it or they give you a big smile and want to discuss your purchase.  They always, always sneak a peek at you to see what state you are in.  Are you stressed?  Looking hopeful?  The nosy people.  Last night I was feeling quite saucy and not really in the mood for the sly glances and knowing smiles.  Instead I tossed the test onto the conveyor belt and announced to the cashier and the customers in front of me, “Yup!  A midnight pregnancy test!!  That’s never good, right?!?!”  They looked at me strangely and then started chuckling.  We shared a laugh and as I was leaving  the cashier told me to have a good, good night.  He totally meant it, I could tell.

I drove home thinking a billion thoughts.  Greg just started a new job.  Our insurance hasn’t gone through yet.  My pregnant sister still lives with us.  There cannot be two pregnant people in one household.  I think it’s a rule.  We are supposed to go Hawaii in August.  I want that.  I’m running a race with my friends in June.  I want that too.  I haven’t lost any weight.  I will weigh more than my husband when the baby is born. 

And then there is the thought that looms over me every time I think of being pregnant.  I will be sick.  At least four months of puking multiple times a day.  Four months of feeling like I have the stomach flu.  Four months of not being able to take care of my kids.  Four months of feeling like I want to die.  Four months of feeling so depressed that I just want go crawl under the covers and stay there forever.  Four months of wanting to smack every person that tells me that it’s willpower, all in my head.  Four months of feeling like a lazy failure because it’s NOT all in my head. 

I can’t do it right now.  I got angry.  If I am pregnant I want it to be on MY terms, not anyone else’s.  It’s not fair.  It’s not a good time.  I haven’t emotionally prepared myself.  I cried.

I got home, unwrapping the package as I walked through the house.  I took the test and waited, face in my hands.  I peeked.  Negative.  I look closer.  NEGATIVE.  Hallelujah!!!!!!

We studied the calendar again.  I vaguely remember January 26th.  It has to be January 26th.  So um, yeah.  Anytime now.  Any. Time. 

A couple of weeks ago I started thinking of how nice it would be to have a baby.  And honestly, it would be nice.  But this whole experience last night made me realize how NOT ready I am.  I don’t want to be thrown into it if I can help it.  If we WERE thrown into it we would deal with it, but I’d prefer to do it when we felt like it was the right thing.  And right now it does not feel like the right thing.

C’mon Aunt Flo.  Rear your ugly head.