Mother’s Day 2012 – One for the Books

When C came home from work on Friday with a 101 degree fever, I knew that any potential Mother’s Day plans were going to have to be… revisited. We don’t usually make a huge deal out of these kinds of holidays – maybe just a little dinner with my in-laws, and/or a nice family outing to a park or to the local Tulip Festival.

But I could tell just from looking at my husband that he was not doing well, and that even a Sunday family get-together might be out of the question this year.

On Saturday, after a feverish and uncomfortable night (and despite my request that he stay home and rest), C went to work. Emmy and I spent the day together, and had quite a bit of fun going to two local playgrounds and a local farm that was having a family-friendly baby animal day.

Saturday night, C came home from work and basically got right into bed. He did not seem well at all.

On Sunday, I wanted to give my husband space and time to relax and just stay in bed, so I took Emmy out to another playground and then to the Tulip Festival. We really had a great time together (save a few toddler melt downs, which is kind of par for the course these days). We listened to music (and danced a little), ate some crappy festival food, worked on some crafts in the kids’ tent, and people watched together. I tried talking to Emmy about some of the fantastic and outrageous outfits people were wearing, but she wouldn’t really participate in the conversation. I guess I have to wait a few more years for that to happen.

A big gray cloud started looming over the festival grounds, so I decided that it was best for Emmy and me to call it quits, especially because I was stroller-less, and didn’t think running through the rain with Emmy in my arms was going to be good for me or the little peanut growing inside me. Em fell asleep on my shoulder, with her arms wrapped around my neck, as we made our way back to the car. With her little head nuzzled deep into my neck, and the sound of the festival music still lingering in the air, I took a minute to appreciate the love I was feeling for my daughter. THAT was a real Mother’s Day moment.

When we got back home, C was in really bad shape. And I mean REALLY BAD. He was running a 104 degree temperature and felt like he was having trouble breathing and moving. He was understandably shaken, and I felt terrible for having left him alone for so long. With a little effort, we got him up and moving, and with his mom’s help (thank you, Mom), we took him to the ER at one of the Albany hospitals. I really did my best to keep my hormonal, worried self in check (I cry whenever I watch an episode of Nurse Jackie these days). I think the adrenaline of the situation, and just wanting to protect my husband and make sure he got whatever he needed to feel better, made me buck up and not fall to pieces (but as I write the story down today, I start crying like a baby. Go figure).

The ER ended up running a crazy amount of tests on C: An EKG, chest x-rays, blood work and cultures. They gave him I.V. fluids and checked all his vitals (which thank goodness were all fine).  When the doctor couldn’t find an obvious source of C’s fever and pounding headache, he suggested a spinal tap, to rule out meningitis. Poor C. He was really put through the ringer, and through it all he kept breaking fevers right and left. When C left the room for a moment before they began the spinal tap, I prayed. I really don’t pray often at all, but in that moment I prayed with my entire heart and body that C would be ok.

Thank goodness, C does NOT have meningitis. We are waiting to hear back on some of the blood work and cultures that were taken. We are hoping to rule out Lyme disease and some other not-so-friendly infections. I guess the best case scenario would be that C just contracted a weird viral fever, and that hopefully, with a little TLC (which I will have to force upon him because he is so horrible about resting), he’ll be feeling better by the end of this week.

It was a tough afternoon and evening. But as I was sitting there next to my husband in the ER, I had another moment. I recognized that this kind of love – the kind where you will do ANYTHING to help the other person, the kind that makes you pray (even though you are not the praying kind) that the person you adore will get better PRONTO – this kind of familial love is what Mother’s Day is all about.

So it was an unconventional celebration of sorts. I DID tell C that for next year’s Mother’s Day, I would prefer to just go out for a nice dinner, and that I didn’t need him to make all this fuss just to make the day memorable. Something tells me that he would be okay with that, too.

I love my daughter. I love my husband. I love being a mother and a wife, and having all this love in my life.

Happy belated Mother’s Day to all the mamas out there, and to those who might not be mamas, but who feel like mamas to someone or something in their lives.

Let’s Get This Potty Started!

It was like magic. Seriously. Yesterday, C and I were slouching on our couch in a state of post-work exhaustion. I was fighting back a wave of nausea, and C was trying to shake off the day’s nonsense with a bottle of lager. Emmy was busying herself with one of her toys (I think it was her baby stroller), when all of a sudden she looked at C and me and said a little word with HUGE connotations.

“Poopy”

C and I looked at each other, and then looked back at Emmy. She was kind of grimacing in that special toddler-doing-a-doody way.

“Poopy, Emmy? Do you need to go poopy???” I asked.

“I think she already IS going poopy” said C (such a skeptic, he is).

“Do you want to use the potty, Emmy???” I asked.

“Potty,” said Emmy.

The next minute was a whirlwind and a blur, a great slo-mo sequence of me trying to get Emmy to the bathroom in under 10 seconds. I jumped off the couch (to hell with the nausea! We’ve got a poopy situation to deal with)… Grabbed Emmy and ran to the toilet… Grabbed the potty seat and put it on the toilet… Yanked Emmy’s pants off… Opened her diaper to find a teeny tiny poop but figured that maybe more was on the way… Hoisted Em on to the toilet seat with eager anticipation… And Dada followed our frenzy into the bathroom, joining for the festivities…

“Shall we sing a potty song, Emmy?” I asked. Emmy smiled.

So all three of us sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” (one of Emmy’s favorites) together, as Emmy sat on her potty seat. And as we were singing, I heard the most joyous sound I have heard in a LONG time.

Plop. Plop plop….. plop.

I would have jumped up in the air and screamed “HALLELUJAH” if I hadn’t been holding on to Emmy (just to make triple sure she wouldn’t fall into the toilet).  C and I looked at each other with sheer surprise and utter excitement and laughed. Emmy had done it! She had recognized she was pooping and she had told us! She had pooped on the potty! It was AMAZING!

Emmy wanted to keep sitting on the potty long after she had pooped. She was very curious about the toilet seat cover, and her special cushy potty seat. But after a few minutes, she said “all done” and I took her down from the potty.

Of course, we had to make a big deal of how fun it is to get wiped with toilet paper. And we had to make an extra big deal about how exciting it is to say bye bye to the poopy and watch it as it gets flushed away. And then we had to have some serious “high fives” from our super duper big girl.

And then, of course, we all washed our hands.

I’m not sure if we will have a repeat performance tonight, or tomorrow, or any time again this week. But the fact that potty time happened once means it might happen again, and that we may very well be on our way to toilet training our daughter.

Woo hoo!

Postcard from the Edge

I know. It’s been forever and a day since I last blogged. When I first found out I was pregnant, I thought I was going to be blogging every day about this pregnancy experience.

And then the nausea hit, like a fierce jab to the gut. And then the fatigue hit, like an uppercut to the head.

It’s been about 4 weeks now of pretty constant misery. I wish I could say I’ve been a trooper, but I’d be lying if I did. I’ve been going through the motions at work, trying to distract myself with my various responsibilities. On occasion, I’ve shut my office door and just cried through the nausea. In the evenings, I have come home from work, collapsed on the couch, and bawled into one of our many throw pillows. On my not-so-bad days, I’ve just kind of sat in the livingroom, lump-like, counting the minutes before I could bring Emmy into bed for the night.

It’s true. I have been quite useless. I thank god every day for my incredible husband, who has picked up my slack like a champion. He has spent the last four weeks chasing Emmy around the house, cleaning up after all of us, and making home improvements. He has given his all to making sure that Emmy is having fun and being entertained and cared for while mama cries into her pillows. With me slightly removed from the picture, the two of them have really bonded, and I can tell Emmy is dada’s number one fan. He’s really been a wonder to us both. I love my husband. I also can’t wait to give him a well-deserved break...

My creative energy has also been totally depleted. I’ve thought about writing on a few occasions, but was never able to gather my pieces together enough to actually put my thoughts down on paper. So I just haven’t. Thus the lull.

But now, at 10 weeks pregnant, I am beginning to feel just a hint of hope. It took until noontime today for the nausea to catch up to me, and that is a heck of a lot better than it has been. I did get a prescription for medication from my OB/GYN to use on the really rough days, but I am hoping to not rely on medication. I’m optimistic that within a month, I will be feeling at least somewhat more like myself, and that I will start to actually enjoy this pregnancy. When those days come, I will be thrilled to blog all about it. Stay tuned…

But I also can’t go without saying SOMETHING about how beautifully Emmy has been growing this past month. She is a joy to be around, even when I am feeling super crummy. Right now she is LOVING her new counting skills (she is able to count to ten with confidence now, which I think is pretty amazing). She also loves singing, and serenades dada and me with “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” (or her version of that song) at all times of the day, even while she is nursing. She even sings along with us when we sing “Diaper Time” (our spin-off of “Closing Time” by Semisonic). Her newest phrases are “it’s ok” and “I see you”. And she love love LOVES playing outdoors. If she had her way, I am pretty sure she would be outside from dawn to dusk, every day. She is just incredible. I love my girl.