In July 2009 while in my first trimester of pregnancy, I started having unexplained seizures. This is part 4 of the series that recounts that time. Read the previous entries here:
Intro
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
And I will stroll the merry way and jump the hedges first
And I will drink the cool clean water for to quench my thirst
I started the last entry noting how difficult it was to write due to memory loss. That issue also applies to this entry, perhaps even more so.
After I awoke from the first overnight in the hospital to the news that I had experienced two more seizures in my sleep, I was completely shocked. I sat up in bed and stared into space, deep in thought. The TV may have been on, and I think I feigned interest for a while. But I had so many questions running around in my head.
What if they can’t figure it out? What if this keeps happening? What are these seizures doing to the baby?
And most importantly, what do I look like when I’m having one?
Such a superficial and silly concern, right? But damn if I don’t still wonder about that. Truthfully, I don’t want to know. If it was ever captured on video, I’d destroy it without a second thought. I’m 100% positive that it’s horrible and frightening and disgusting. But there’s a sick side of me that’s a little curious…
Every once in a while that morning I’d look over at Tony and ask, “Did it really happen again? You’re not just effing with me?” I’m sure it wasn’t annoying and tedious at all for him to answer those questions over and over.
Okay. So what the hell now?
My neurologist, Dr. K, decided it was best to give me a mild sedative for now. This is not usually recommended for pregnant women. But the goal was to calm the brain activity in order to stop the seizures any way they could. At the same time she put me on an anti-seizure medication called Keppra. It’s a fairly new drug and the effects of taking it while pregnant are not well known. The few cases that are documented show that there should be no ill effect on the little one. At this point, the potential damage from another seizure was a higher risk to me and the baby than either of these drugs.
Dr. K was positive and confident that this was the way to go. But all I heard was:
“You’re unborn child will probably be fine while you take this.”
“Not much data with pregnant women.”
“We don’t really know.”
:shrug:
What were we supposed to say? ‘Oh heck no, I’m not exposing my kid to that POISON, I’ll just sit here and let my brain wig out some more.’ Or maybe, ‘Okay, that sounds totally awesome, let’s do this! I’m so pumped!’
We just had to go with it and see what happened.
For the next few days I was continuously monitored. They had a “sitter” in to watch me while I slept, which also allowed Tony to get some rest (although I’m sure he got very little). They ran more tests and repeated tests that were already run. They glued electrodes all over my scalp to record brain activity (EEG), and I wondered aloud if they could see all the useless celebrity gossip I have going on up there. The glue from the EEG stunk like paint primer, and I was rocking the futuristic Medusa look for a while.
I was really out of it. People came to visit, like Jenny and Danielle. They brought me books (which I still need to return, what an awesome friend I am). I don’t remember the two of them sitting down, if I was still rocking the stinky hair plugs, or if we had any conversation at all. But I remember seeing their beautiful faces as they stood at the foot of my bed, and feeling happy and grateful they were there.
One whole day passed without a seizure. Then another.
I remember the headache. I had one for days. I could barely open my eyes, it ached so badly. I thought maybe my brain had been fried. Turns out that when they drain spinal fluid during a lumbar puncture, sometimes the wound doesn’t heal properly and you get what is called a spinal headache. Just a note to you all: Don’t ever get one of those. My skull felt like it was too small and it was squeezing my brain like a vice. The treatment was to lay flat on my back for a while, not a difficult thing to do. And caffeine could help too, something I had been avoiding due to my delicate condition. My sister got me a medium iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts, and by god that was the most delicious beverage I have ever had in my life. I don’t remember much, but I will always remember that iced coffee.
The headache went away finally and I felt like a new person.
Another seizure-free day passed. The results of the EEG came back. They saw some minor activity in one area of my brain. So they would do an MRI, focusing on that area. Depending on those results, I could possibly go home soon. The fact that I hadn’t had a seizure since the first night was a good sign that the medicine was working.
The results of the MRI were good. The activity was there, but it was minor and nothing to be super concerned about at this point. On day 6 of my hospital stay, I could finally go home. It was a long, exhausting week. I was glad to go home, but I was also nervous. I’m sure Tony was even more scared. There were still no real answers as to why I had the seizures or if I would continue to have them. So for now I would go home to rest, where my husband and family would monitor and take care of me. And we would go back to the hospital next week to follow up with the doctors. All I could hope for was an answer and a solution. But the journey and the search for those things would be much longer than I expected.
To be continued…
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Coming Through, Part 3
In July 2009 while in my first trimester of pregnancy, I started having unexplained seizures. This is part 3 of the series that recounts that time. Read the previous entries here:
Intro
Part 1
Part 2
We shall walk and talk in gardens all misty wet with rain
And I will never never never grow so old again
It’s been difficult writing this part of the series, covering the hospital stay and weeks to follow. Like I’ve said before, I remember very little. And the pieces I do remember don’t follow any logical time sequence. Through my few memories and Tony’s written account, I’ve tried to make some sense of it.
Despite my hazy memory, I very clearly recall the ambulance ride from our local hospital to Beth Israel in Boston. I wanted Tony to ride with me, but he needed to drive so that he would have a vehicle in the city. I asked the doctors if I could go with him in the car, but I still needed to be monitored closely. So it was just me and the nice 12-year-old boy pretending to be an EMT in the back of the ambulance. He was sweet. Not much of a talker, which was fine with me. I felt old, pregnant, and quite content to just lie there quietly with my hands folded over my tummy.
This ride was much different than the one from earlier that night. It was calm, smooth, and unhurried, although we made it into town quickly. It was a Saturday morning and the highway was empty. The sun was just rising on a clear day. I couldn’t see much outside the windows, being horizontal like I was. But I could see the way the sun sparkled off the tops of buildings of the Boston skyline. Orange, gold, silver, iridescent and shimmery. It was beautiful and so peaceful.
That drive was like being in the eye of the storm. Coming out of hours of total chaos and heading into much of the same. A brief respite at dawn. I breathed it in like fresh air. I wished it were a little longer so I could enjoy the quiet.
I was taken to the emergency room at BI, back into the storm. Nobody was sure where I was going to land. Obstetrics? Neurology? The big debate of the day. Tony was already there waiting for me as I was rolled into a ‘room’ in the ER, which consisted of a corner with a curtain around it. These busy big city hospitals are short on space, I guess. Doctors came in and out, asking loads of questions. I deferred to my husband much of the time, something I would become very used to doing.
I was happy to see my mom arrive. She carried her purse and a plastic shopping bag full of the essentials, tissues and mints and magazines. Always prepared, my mum. My sisters arrived soon after. I was glad to have familiar faces around. But they all looked tired and worried and I just wanted people to stop. Guys, it’s okay. I’m fiiiine. I truly felt that there was no reason to worry. It was a fluke. A crazy weird fluke. I ate something bad, is all. This business, all this fuss is just silly!
Of course, I didn't see myself on the floor the night before. The convulsing and the blood. Fighting with the EMTs as they tried to help. Perhaps 'silly' isn't the word my husband would use to describe the situation.
None of the doctors or nurses could tell us exactly what had happened or why. But they had a plan. They would perform every test they could think of. And so it started. Blood tests, motor, memory, and reflex tests, lumbar puncture (yeah, it was about as pleasant as it sounds), MRIs, EKGs, EEGs… The works. The only thing they weren’t able to do was a cat scan, which is not baby safe. I’m cooking this baby just fine on my own, thankyouverymuch.
When I was in one of the more time consuming tests, Tony was able to step out with his mom, dad, and sister for a bite to eat. I imagine he needed (and deserved) a break. I learned recently that this was the time his wall broke down. Always the picture of strength and support for me, he could finally let go of all his worries and fears. Spill it out on a cafeteria table with his family there to hold him up. They listened and hugged him as he let it all out.
“It’s going to be okay,” they assured. He didn’t know if it was true. But he felt better.
At some point in between one test or another, I was finally moved into a room in the neurology unit. Since the baby was fine (can I get a hallelujah?), they would focus on this noggin of mine, :knock knock:. I was relieved to be in a real room. I hated the feeling of being in limbo. Either put me somewhere or send me home, ya know?
I was settled in the room after a long, crazy day. The rest of the family had left and Tony stayed by my side. I was exhausted. My whole body was sore from the fall, and my mind needed the escape of some cheesy sitcom. We lay curled up together in my hospital bed watching TV. Tony is always warm and he made it feel like we were home in that stiff, starch white bed. It didn’t take long for me to drift off in his arms.
He told me later on that he was scared to go to sleep that night. Any movement I made in my sleep would cause him to tense up with anxiety, reliving the night before.
At midnight Tony was awoken by another one of my movements. But this time I was not just shifting my weight in my sleep. I was convulsing. He thought he was having a nightmare at first. When he realized what was happening, he hit the call button and yelled that I was having a seizure. A nurse came in and the two of them turned me onto my side. All they could do was wait it out. It lasted about a minute, just like the last time.
I remember nothing of that incident or the rest of the night to come. I’ve been told I was in a fog for a while, came out of it for a few minutes, and then went back to sleep.
Tony barely slept. He sat in the chair next to my bed and watched my every breath, dozing off here and there.
That morning at around 6am, the nightmare continued. Another seizure. Tony jumped to his feet and ran to the door to find help, almost knocking down my neurologist, Dr. K, who was on her way in. The two of them again moved me to my side and waited for it to be over. Dr. K saw most of my third seizure, as well as the emotional reaction of my husband to all the stress. Tony is a very reasonable, together person. But this was too much. He had watched his pregnant wife have three violent, unexplained seizures in a 26-hour period and nobody could tell him why or how to fix it. Dr. K helped calm him down and assured him that they were going to take care of me. She told him how strong he was being for me and for our baby.
I go back and forth all the time on whether I believe in God or a higher power. But I believe something sent Dr. K to my room at the exact right moment. She was there to witness my seizure first-hand, enabling her to better treat my condition. And she was able to be there for my husband in a way that only an outsider, someone emotionally removed from the situation can be. I dunno… Maybe it was just a coincidence that she was walking into my room at that precise moment. But either way… It seems like someone up there is looking out for us.
I remember waking up that morning to a gray day outside the window, Tony sitting in the chair next to my bed. I stretched and reached for his hand.
“Morning babe,” I said.
“Hey. How do you feel?”
“Fine. Tired. Sore.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“… Oh god… no.”
I was afraid to hear him say the words. I knew by looking at his face, but I didn’t want to hear it. Again? Seriously? No, no, no. I was angry. Pissed off at my body, at my brain, at the world. What the hell is going on?
When I found out that there were two more seizures that night, my anger turned to legitimate concern. All along I had been worried about the baby and my husband and putting everyone out with all this nonsense. But it finally hit me. Something might really be wrong.
I know, I know… One random massive seizure wasn’t enough to make me concerned for myself. It took three. Everyone has their limit, I guess.
Now both Tony and I were praying and pleading for someone to just make the damn seizures stop. We could only hope that Dr. K had the answers.
Continued in Part 4...
Intro
Part 1
Part 2
We shall walk and talk in gardens all misty wet with rain
And I will never never never grow so old again
It’s been difficult writing this part of the series, covering the hospital stay and weeks to follow. Like I’ve said before, I remember very little. And the pieces I do remember don’t follow any logical time sequence. Through my few memories and Tony’s written account, I’ve tried to make some sense of it.
Despite my hazy memory, I very clearly recall the ambulance ride from our local hospital to Beth Israel in Boston. I wanted Tony to ride with me, but he needed to drive so that he would have a vehicle in the city. I asked the doctors if I could go with him in the car, but I still needed to be monitored closely. So it was just me and the nice 12-year-old boy pretending to be an EMT in the back of the ambulance. He was sweet. Not much of a talker, which was fine with me. I felt old, pregnant, and quite content to just lie there quietly with my hands folded over my tummy.
This ride was much different than the one from earlier that night. It was calm, smooth, and unhurried, although we made it into town quickly. It was a Saturday morning and the highway was empty. The sun was just rising on a clear day. I couldn’t see much outside the windows, being horizontal like I was. But I could see the way the sun sparkled off the tops of buildings of the Boston skyline. Orange, gold, silver, iridescent and shimmery. It was beautiful and so peaceful.
That drive was like being in the eye of the storm. Coming out of hours of total chaos and heading into much of the same. A brief respite at dawn. I breathed it in like fresh air. I wished it were a little longer so I could enjoy the quiet.
I was taken to the emergency room at BI, back into the storm. Nobody was sure where I was going to land. Obstetrics? Neurology? The big debate of the day. Tony was already there waiting for me as I was rolled into a ‘room’ in the ER, which consisted of a corner with a curtain around it. These busy big city hospitals are short on space, I guess. Doctors came in and out, asking loads of questions. I deferred to my husband much of the time, something I would become very used to doing.
I was happy to see my mom arrive. She carried her purse and a plastic shopping bag full of the essentials, tissues and mints and magazines. Always prepared, my mum. My sisters arrived soon after. I was glad to have familiar faces around. But they all looked tired and worried and I just wanted people to stop. Guys, it’s okay. I’m fiiiine. I truly felt that there was no reason to worry. It was a fluke. A crazy weird fluke. I ate something bad, is all. This business, all this fuss is just silly!
Of course, I didn't see myself on the floor the night before. The convulsing and the blood. Fighting with the EMTs as they tried to help. Perhaps 'silly' isn't the word my husband would use to describe the situation.
None of the doctors or nurses could tell us exactly what had happened or why. But they had a plan. They would perform every test they could think of. And so it started. Blood tests, motor, memory, and reflex tests, lumbar puncture (yeah, it was about as pleasant as it sounds), MRIs, EKGs, EEGs… The works. The only thing they weren’t able to do was a cat scan, which is not baby safe. I’m cooking this baby just fine on my own, thankyouverymuch.
When I was in one of the more time consuming tests, Tony was able to step out with his mom, dad, and sister for a bite to eat. I imagine he needed (and deserved) a break. I learned recently that this was the time his wall broke down. Always the picture of strength and support for me, he could finally let go of all his worries and fears. Spill it out on a cafeteria table with his family there to hold him up. They listened and hugged him as he let it all out.
“It’s going to be okay,” they assured. He didn’t know if it was true. But he felt better.
At some point in between one test or another, I was finally moved into a room in the neurology unit. Since the baby was fine (can I get a hallelujah?), they would focus on this noggin of mine, :knock knock:. I was relieved to be in a real room. I hated the feeling of being in limbo. Either put me somewhere or send me home, ya know?
I was settled in the room after a long, crazy day. The rest of the family had left and Tony stayed by my side. I was exhausted. My whole body was sore from the fall, and my mind needed the escape of some cheesy sitcom. We lay curled up together in my hospital bed watching TV. Tony is always warm and he made it feel like we were home in that stiff, starch white bed. It didn’t take long for me to drift off in his arms.
He told me later on that he was scared to go to sleep that night. Any movement I made in my sleep would cause him to tense up with anxiety, reliving the night before.
At midnight Tony was awoken by another one of my movements. But this time I was not just shifting my weight in my sleep. I was convulsing. He thought he was having a nightmare at first. When he realized what was happening, he hit the call button and yelled that I was having a seizure. A nurse came in and the two of them turned me onto my side. All they could do was wait it out. It lasted about a minute, just like the last time.
I remember nothing of that incident or the rest of the night to come. I’ve been told I was in a fog for a while, came out of it for a few minutes, and then went back to sleep.
Tony barely slept. He sat in the chair next to my bed and watched my every breath, dozing off here and there.
That morning at around 6am, the nightmare continued. Another seizure. Tony jumped to his feet and ran to the door to find help, almost knocking down my neurologist, Dr. K, who was on her way in. The two of them again moved me to my side and waited for it to be over. Dr. K saw most of my third seizure, as well as the emotional reaction of my husband to all the stress. Tony is a very reasonable, together person. But this was too much. He had watched his pregnant wife have three violent, unexplained seizures in a 26-hour period and nobody could tell him why or how to fix it. Dr. K helped calm him down and assured him that they were going to take care of me. She told him how strong he was being for me and for our baby.
I go back and forth all the time on whether I believe in God or a higher power. But I believe something sent Dr. K to my room at the exact right moment. She was there to witness my seizure first-hand, enabling her to better treat my condition. And she was able to be there for my husband in a way that only an outsider, someone emotionally removed from the situation can be. I dunno… Maybe it was just a coincidence that she was walking into my room at that precise moment. But either way… It seems like someone up there is looking out for us.
I remember waking up that morning to a gray day outside the window, Tony sitting in the chair next to my bed. I stretched and reached for his hand.
“Morning babe,” I said.
“Hey. How do you feel?”
“Fine. Tired. Sore.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“… Oh god… no.”
I was afraid to hear him say the words. I knew by looking at his face, but I didn’t want to hear it. Again? Seriously? No, no, no. I was angry. Pissed off at my body, at my brain, at the world. What the hell is going on?
When I found out that there were two more seizures that night, my anger turned to legitimate concern. All along I had been worried about the baby and my husband and putting everyone out with all this nonsense. But it finally hit me. Something might really be wrong.
I know, I know… One random massive seizure wasn’t enough to make me concerned for myself. It took three. Everyone has their limit, I guess.
Now both Tony and I were praying and pleading for someone to just make the damn seizures stop. We could only hope that Dr. K had the answers.
Continued in Part 4...
Monday, November 1, 2010
Coming Through, Part 2
In July 2009 while in my first trimester of pregnancy, I started having unexplained seizures. This is part 2 of the series that recounts that time. Read the previous entries here:
Intro
Part 1
And I will raise my hand up into the nighttime sky
And count the stars there shining in your eyes
Just to dig it all and not to wonder, that’s fine
And I’ll be satisfied not to read in between the lines
Intro
Part 1
And I will raise my hand up into the nighttime sky
And count the stars there shining in your eyes
Just to dig it all and not to wonder, that’s fine
And I’ll be satisfied not to read in between the lines
July 2009:
The lawn. That’s the first thing I saw in front of me. It was dark out and I was floating above the grass, unrecognizable faces above me on either side. They asked if I knew what had happened.
No.
Had they asked if I knew my name, I would have answered the same. I was someone else. I was nobody. I was just born, or maybe I died. Nothing was sure. Yet oddly enough, everything was fine. I was warm, calm, and fine. Confused, yes, but without any strength or desire to put the pieces together.
Sometimes I still think about that feeling, of not knowing who I was. It was absolutely surreal. No past, present, or future. No name, no ties. Floating in a dream.
Then I saw a familiar face. He was frantic, yet the sight of him was reassuring. He knows me. This guy over here! He’ll tell you who I am!
His eyes met mine and he said to me without words, “There you are.” Gently, I was pulled back down to earth and I started to feel the weight of my limbs again. My best friend, my husband, my heart, Tony… yes, that’s whose face that is… he called my name. It sounded vaguely familiar, but the tone was wrong. Worried. Each time I heard my name aloud, I was pulled down into the world a little more.
Sarah, you’re going to be okay.
Sarah, we’re taking you to the hospital.
Sarah, you had a fall.
I am Sarah. And apparently I fell. Musta been a bad one.
Our neighbors stood outside their homes. They looked worried too, their hands over their mouths. Before I could smile and wave (would that be silly?), the gurney under me was lifted up into the back of the ambulance. Tony was standing outside the open doors at my feet.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital. They’re going to take care of you and make sure you and the baby are okay.”
Baby?
I didn’t ask what he meant. I nodded, rested my head back, and closed my eyes. At some point during the ambulance ride I remembered that I was pregnant. 3 months, I think. Ohh. The baby. I looked down at my nightgown and placed a hand over my belly. A tiny little pooch about the size of my palm protruded slightly. My ears got hot. Then my face. ‘Oh my god, the baby. How bad was the fall. What if…’
…
Tony’s experience of that night is obviously very different. He wrote about it in detail. But it is too terrifying to post. I will summarize.
Late in the night, he awoke to the sound of coughing or choking and thought it was the dog. Barkley often hacked in his old age, god bless him. I was moving around. Tony assumed I was trying to get the dog off the bed to prevent him from vomiting on the sheets. But then I fell. Tony jumped up and turned on the light to see me twitching violently on the floor, my eyes rolling back. Crazy, alien-esque, WTF-is-going-on twitching, for what seemed like forever but was only about 30-60 seconds, and then it stopped. And there was blood. A scary amount of blood by my head.
Tony called 911, understandably panicked. As he waited for the ambulance to arrive, he lay on the floor and held me in his arms. My eyes were closed, I breathed deeply, gurgling sometimes like a snore. He talked to me, begged me to hold on, keep breathing, just keep breathing. He thought I was dying.
…
I can’t even imagine. My heart breaks for my husband for having to see all that. If it had been the reverse, I don’t know if I could’ve kept it together like he had.
…
The only part of the ER visit I recall is the ultrasound. And the overwhelming relief when they found a heartbeat, steady and strong. Like his father. Tony and I cried and held each other. The baby is fine. The baby is fine.
After many questions, discussions, and exams, the doctors concluded that I likely had a seizure. The blood was from hitting my head on the nightstand, resulting in a lovely cut to my face. Mirrors are scarce in hospitals (gratefully), but I could tell by the reactions of others that I wasn't exactly looking my best.
Now what?
I had to be admitted, but our local hospital did not have the capacity to perform all the tests that needed to be done. They decided to transfer me to Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston. There I was in for a battery of tests, a team of doctors, and many more questions. As well as a couple of very scary set backs...
Continued in Part 3...
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Coming Through, Part 1
In July 2009 while in my first trimester of pregnancy, I started having unexplained seizures. This is part 1 of the series that recounts that time. Read the intro here:
Intro
I shall drive my chariot down your streets and cry
It’s me I’m dynamite and I don’t know why
And you shall take me strongly in your arms again
And I will not remember that I ever felt the pain
An activity book of word searches sat on the coffee table. It was a recent Saturday morning and Tony’s mother watched Desmond for us the day before. I figured she came upon the book trying to find something to do while Des was napping. I flipped through the pages and noticed something odd. Only single letters were circled, not whole words in long skinny ovals like you would usually see. Huh. Must be a different way of solving these things.
“Ton, I think your mom is a secret agent sending messages to the government.”
I showed him the book.
“That’s weird.”
He tried to find a connection between the words given and the letters circled. Maybe she only circled the first letters of the words. Or the letters that were not included. It didn’t make sense. We were both perplexed, but we put the book down and didn’t think about it again.
Next Saturday came. Tony was feeding Desmond at the kitchen table. Peaches and yogurt and waffle. Daddy wasn’t putting the waffle pieces down fast enough and Des was letting him know with all sorts of excited “Ahh”s and “Guhh”s.
“One at a time, little man,” Tony said.
I sipped my coffee. The word search caught my eye on the coffee table.
“Hey Ton, did you ask your mom about the book?”
“Shoot, I forgot.”
“No big deal. Just curious.”
Later that night, after the baby was asleep and we were lounging on the couch watching TV, Tony picked up the book.
“Hm. These form words. Something is spelled out. ‘These… last… few… days…”
I peeked over his shoulder and we read it together, out loud, connecting the scattered letters slowly.
“Have… been… scary.”
He closed it. We both remembered something at the same time. This book was given to me last year when I was in the hospital, 14 weeks pregnant and having unexplained seizures. A 911 call, frantic ER trip, 2 ambulance rides, 5 days in the hospital, so many doctors, and countless tests. Tony never left my side.
It’s a 2-3 week timeframe of which I remember very little. But in a rare reversal of roles, this was something that Tony had forgotten about.
“I did this in the hospital one night. I couldn’t sleep.”
…
I could tell he was embarrassed. That I had found something he wrote and that he had forgotten he wrote it in the first place. I asked if I could read the entire thing. He said yes, somewhat reluctantly. I pieced together the letters to form the words at a slow, halting pace in my head…
“Sarah, I love you more than words can describe. I would not know what to do with myself if something were to happen to you. These last few days have been scary for me. I can only imagine how hard they’ve been for you. We’ll get through this together and be stronger because of it. Sleep well, my love. Love, Tony”
Tears fell out of my eyes. I pictured him sitting in the dark next to me as I slept in the hospital bed, circling these letters, one at a time in a puzzle book.
I felt so sorry and guilty for putting him through it all. The word “scary” was ringing in my ears. I recall at the time feelings of confusion, anxiety, exhaustion. He was scared. Maybe it wasn’t the first time he shared that feeling with me, but it’s the first time it sunk in. Like a 2x4 to the face.
Not so much here, or here, but riiiight here. Bam.
Then, pushing through that helpless guilt came a profound sense of gratitude, humility, and love. I couldn’t hug my husband long or tight enough to express it. If I could, I would just hold on to him with both arms forever.
...
When I told him I was going to write about this, he said there was more to read than just the puzzle book. Soon after it happened, Tony had typed up a full detailed account of everything. He never told me about it until now. Apparently my husband had painted the picture I had been looking for all this time. Now I was finally ready to see it.
Reading it was like looking into someone else’s life. I guess I hadn’t realized just how little I remembered. There were tiny moments I could recall through my eyes, like photographs, but most of it I saw for the first time through his. And that’s when I understood how truly scary it all was.
Continued in Part 2...
Intro
I shall drive my chariot down your streets and cry
It’s me I’m dynamite and I don’t know why
And you shall take me strongly in your arms again
And I will not remember that I ever felt the pain
An activity book of word searches sat on the coffee table. It was a recent Saturday morning and Tony’s mother watched Desmond for us the day before. I figured she came upon the book trying to find something to do while Des was napping. I flipped through the pages and noticed something odd. Only single letters were circled, not whole words in long skinny ovals like you would usually see. Huh. Must be a different way of solving these things.
“Ton, I think your mom is a secret agent sending messages to the government.”
I showed him the book.
“That’s weird.”
He tried to find a connection between the words given and the letters circled. Maybe she only circled the first letters of the words. Or the letters that were not included. It didn’t make sense. We were both perplexed, but we put the book down and didn’t think about it again.
Next Saturday came. Tony was feeding Desmond at the kitchen table. Peaches and yogurt and waffle. Daddy wasn’t putting the waffle pieces down fast enough and Des was letting him know with all sorts of excited “Ahh”s and “Guhh”s.
“One at a time, little man,” Tony said.
I sipped my coffee. The word search caught my eye on the coffee table.
“Hey Ton, did you ask your mom about the book?”
“Shoot, I forgot.”
“No big deal. Just curious.”
Later that night, after the baby was asleep and we were lounging on the couch watching TV, Tony picked up the book.
“Hm. These form words. Something is spelled out. ‘These… last… few… days…”
I peeked over his shoulder and we read it together, out loud, connecting the scattered letters slowly.
“Have… been… scary.”
He closed it. We both remembered something at the same time. This book was given to me last year when I was in the hospital, 14 weeks pregnant and having unexplained seizures. A 911 call, frantic ER trip, 2 ambulance rides, 5 days in the hospital, so many doctors, and countless tests. Tony never left my side.
It’s a 2-3 week timeframe of which I remember very little. But in a rare reversal of roles, this was something that Tony had forgotten about.
“I did this in the hospital one night. I couldn’t sleep.”
…
I could tell he was embarrassed. That I had found something he wrote and that he had forgotten he wrote it in the first place. I asked if I could read the entire thing. He said yes, somewhat reluctantly. I pieced together the letters to form the words at a slow, halting pace in my head…
“Sarah, I love you more than words can describe. I would not know what to do with myself if something were to happen to you. These last few days have been scary for me. I can only imagine how hard they’ve been for you. We’ll get through this together and be stronger because of it. Sleep well, my love. Love, Tony”
Tears fell out of my eyes. I pictured him sitting in the dark next to me as I slept in the hospital bed, circling these letters, one at a time in a puzzle book.
I felt so sorry and guilty for putting him through it all. The word “scary” was ringing in my ears. I recall at the time feelings of confusion, anxiety, exhaustion. He was scared. Maybe it wasn’t the first time he shared that feeling with me, but it’s the first time it sunk in. Like a 2x4 to the face.
Not so much here, or here, but riiiight here. Bam.
Then, pushing through that helpless guilt came a profound sense of gratitude, humility, and love. I couldn’t hug my husband long or tight enough to express it. If I could, I would just hold on to him with both arms forever.
...
When I told him I was going to write about this, he said there was more to read than just the puzzle book. Soon after it happened, Tony had typed up a full detailed account of everything. He never told me about it until now. Apparently my husband had painted the picture I had been looking for all this time. Now I was finally ready to see it.
Reading it was like looking into someone else’s life. I guess I hadn’t realized just how little I remembered. There were tiny moments I could recall through my eyes, like photographs, but most of it I saw for the first time through his. And that’s when I understood how truly scary it all was.
Continued in Part 2...
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Coming Through, Intro
Remember that multi-part entry I vaguely referred to a few entries ago?
Well...
Last year we had a scare. It was a bizarre blip on the radar of my generally healthy life, still difficult to explain or talk about. I can’t remember a lot. It was out of nowhere and then never really resolved. But I want to share what I do recall and what I’ve been told happened. Piece it together in a way that makes some kinda sense. Then I can paint a picture, point to it, and say “Here. Here’s what happened.” For me. For my husband. For our son to read one day. Mostly for me.
I hesitate to make it public. It’s profoundly intimate. But maybe sharing it all will resolve something inside me that doctors and medicine can’t. That’s my hope.
I have a feeling it will read like a poor man’s Picasso recreation, with a little Dali and Escher sprinkled in. I’ll call it Crazy Stairs.
Oh no, did that hit Crazy Stairs?
Part 1 to be posted soon. At this point I don’t even know how many installments there will be. It’s ‘coming through’… albeit slowly.
I’ll continue to post Des updates and light-hearted entries in between. And maybe the health recaps once a week or so. Otherwise I might go a little crazy. If I’m not already there...
Well...
Last year we had a scare. It was a bizarre blip on the radar of my generally healthy life, still difficult to explain or talk about. I can’t remember a lot. It was out of nowhere and then never really resolved. But I want to share what I do recall and what I’ve been told happened. Piece it together in a way that makes some kinda sense. Then I can paint a picture, point to it, and say “Here. Here’s what happened.” For me. For my husband. For our son to read one day. Mostly for me.
I hesitate to make it public. It’s profoundly intimate. But maybe sharing it all will resolve something inside me that doctors and medicine can’t. That’s my hope.
I have a feeling it will read like a poor man’s Picasso recreation, with a little Dali and Escher sprinkled in. I’ll call it Crazy Stairs.
Oh no, did that hit Crazy Stairs?
Part 1 to be posted soon. At this point I don’t even know how many installments there will be. It’s ‘coming through’… albeit slowly.
I’ll continue to post Des updates and light-hearted entries in between. And maybe the health recaps once a week or so. Otherwise I might go a little crazy. If I’m not already there...
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
The Day Before
Six months ago from this moment, I sat in my cube at work and started thinking, "Hmm.. I wonder if something is going on. Maybe I'll start timing just in case."
I opened up a new email and typed the time. Then again a little bit later. In between work, chatting with coworkers, walking to and from the bathroom (hello trampoline bladder!), I'd jot the times of those somethings in the email. Again and again.
I still have it saved in my draft email folder at work. I refuse to delete it, but I don't know what to do with it. I open it up every once in a while, recalling that day and those moments.
In honor of The Day Before, here's the body of that email:
841
900
914
936
1000
1007
1023
1035
1053
1101
1109
1123
1132
1138
1155
1211
1222
1229
1237
1246
1253
100
125
132
139
151
159
214
234
240
252
307
313
320
331
345
To everyone else it's just a list of numbers. To me, it's anticipation, excitement, and having NO IDEA how much life would change so soon.
Like just before dawn after a long, exhausting night. There's nothing like the light of day that can change your entire perspective.
I opened up a new email and typed the time. Then again a little bit later. In between work, chatting with coworkers, walking to and from the bathroom (hello trampoline bladder!), I'd jot the times of those somethings in the email. Again and again.
I still have it saved in my draft email folder at work. I refuse to delete it, but I don't know what to do with it. I open it up every once in a while, recalling that day and those moments.
In honor of The Day Before, here's the body of that email:
841
900
914
936
1000
1007
1023
1035
1053
1101
1109
1123
1132
1138
1155
1211
1222
1229
1237
1246
1253
100
125
132
139
151
159
214
234
240
252
307
313
320
331
345
To everyone else it's just a list of numbers. To me, it's anticipation, excitement, and having NO IDEA how much life would change so soon.
Like just before dawn after a long, exhausting night. There's nothing like the light of day that can change your entire perspective.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Still Here
Hi. No baby yet. 12 days until the estimated due date. And not a peep. Everything is tight as a drum and baby boy is partying it up like it's NYE every night in there.
Here's me, Giganto, on Christmas day:
He's probably afraid to come out. With all the drama over these past 9 months, from seizures and hospital stays, to medications and memory loss, to falls and broken bones... who can blame him. I'd want to stay in that protective cocoon too! Whenever you're ready, buddy. We'll be waiting as patiently as possible.
Christmas was lovely this year. Although I wasn't feeling my best, we hosted Christmas Eve at our house with the help of everyone in Tony's fam. It was our first Christmas in the 'new' house. If I wasn't so tired I would have decorated more, but it was just enough and looked nice. I spent most of the evening on the couch. The stress of the holidays and everything going on had caused my legs/ankles/feet to swell up to a disgusting degree. Pregnancy! Yay! But other than that, everyone seemed to have a great time.
Tony and I spent Christmas morning relaxing on our last holiday as a family of two. We treated ourselves to a new DSLR camera, which takes some amazing photos, although we're still learning!
The day was spent in Braintree with the Cawley clan, as is tradition. Despite being exhausted from the night before, I had a fantastic time with the fam. Even treated myself to a glass of red wine. Merry Christmas to me!
Leaving Braintree was strange. It hit me then that the next time I see most of these people, the people that I love most in the world, we are going to have a little baby with us. Everyone was wishing us luck, giving us advice and kisses and hugs, asking us to call, etc. It was just surreal.
I am so excited for next year! :-)
Here's me, Giganto, on Christmas day:
He's probably afraid to come out. With all the drama over these past 9 months, from seizures and hospital stays, to medications and memory loss, to falls and broken bones... who can blame him. I'd want to stay in that protective cocoon too! Whenever you're ready, buddy. We'll be waiting as patiently as possible.
Christmas was lovely this year. Although I wasn't feeling my best, we hosted Christmas Eve at our house with the help of everyone in Tony's fam. It was our first Christmas in the 'new' house. If I wasn't so tired I would have decorated more, but it was just enough and looked nice. I spent most of the evening on the couch. The stress of the holidays and everything going on had caused my legs/ankles/feet to swell up to a disgusting degree. Pregnancy! Yay! But other than that, everyone seemed to have a great time.
Tony and I spent Christmas morning relaxing on our last holiday as a family of two. We treated ourselves to a new DSLR camera, which takes some amazing photos, although we're still learning!
The day was spent in Braintree with the Cawley clan, as is tradition. Despite being exhausted from the night before, I had a fantastic time with the fam. Even treated myself to a glass of red wine. Merry Christmas to me!
Leaving Braintree was strange. It hit me then that the next time I see most of these people, the people that I love most in the world, we are going to have a little baby with us. Everyone was wishing us luck, giving us advice and kisses and hugs, asking us to call, etc. It was just surreal.
I am so excited for next year! :-)
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Slow progress, shower, and holiday traditions
Today marks 36 weeks of pregnancy. On one hand it seems like time is finally flying, and on the other hand... good lawd, this gestating thing takes for-evv-errr.
Say it, Squints.
At this point, every day is a little more uncomfortable than the one before. Which makes me nervous for the weeks to come. But the craziness of everything going on lately will hopefully make it go by quickly.
35 weeks
36 weeks
In the midst of all the craziness, our families threw us a beautiful baby shower and we are so grateful for all the work that went into it, as well as all the amazing gifts!
I didn't get many photos, as I was too busy stuffing my swolen face with delicious food and tallying up our loot. Class-ay.
Now that we're heading in to the home stretch, nights and weekends are mostly spent getting ready for baby. I've come to the conclusion that not everything has to be be D-U-N DONE RIGHT NOW OMG BABY'S COMING QUICK FREAK OUT!! As long as we have all the essentials ready, which we pretty much do, everything will be fiiiine. But sometimes the panic sets in and I get all crazy irrational (i.e., pregnant) and something might be chucked in the trash or bitten off at the neck. (Sorry Tone. Luvs ya.)
That this is one of the busiest times of the year, both at work and at home, adds a bit to the stress. Lots and lots of holiday parties, birthday celebrations, dinners, showers, doctor appointments... all in between work (which is nutso) and sleep. And taking a few breaths here and there.
Speaking of holiday parties, it's a Cawley family tradition to hold Christmas a few weeks early for the siblings and all our kids. It helps to make Christmas day not so CRAZY with the whole family around. It's typically held at my mom's house in Marshfield, but my sister Maureen stepped up and offered her house when mom caught The Bug a few days prior. No matter where it's held, it's always a great time. The kids love it, and us big kids love it too.
Crazy to think that next year there will be another little boy in the mix!
How many times did I use the word 'crazy' in this entry? Tons. That's about right.
Oh, we're also hosting Christmas Eve with Tony's fam this year. I'll be 38 weeks pregnant. Should I use that word again? I think I should... CRAZY.
Happy holidays!
Say it, Squints.
At this point, every day is a little more uncomfortable than the one before. Which makes me nervous for the weeks to come. But the craziness of everything going on lately will hopefully make it go by quickly.
35 weeks
36 weeks
In the midst of all the craziness, our families threw us a beautiful baby shower and we are so grateful for all the work that went into it, as well as all the amazing gifts!
I didn't get many photos, as I was too busy stuffing my swolen face with delicious food and tallying up our loot. Class-ay.
Now that we're heading in to the home stretch, nights and weekends are mostly spent getting ready for baby. I've come to the conclusion that not everything has to be be D-U-N DONE RIGHT NOW OMG BABY'S COMING QUICK FREAK OUT!! As long as we have all the essentials ready, which we pretty much do, everything will be fiiiine. But sometimes the panic sets in and I get all crazy irrational (i.e., pregnant) and something might be chucked in the trash or bitten off at the neck. (Sorry Tone. Luvs ya.)
That this is one of the busiest times of the year, both at work and at home, adds a bit to the stress. Lots and lots of holiday parties, birthday celebrations, dinners, showers, doctor appointments... all in between work (which is nutso) and sleep. And taking a few breaths here and there.
Speaking of holiday parties, it's a Cawley family tradition to hold Christmas a few weeks early for the siblings and all our kids. It helps to make Christmas day not so CRAZY with the whole family around. It's typically held at my mom's house in Marshfield, but my sister Maureen stepped up and offered her house when mom caught The Bug a few days prior. No matter where it's held, it's always a great time. The kids love it, and us big kids love it too.
Crazy to think that next year there will be another little boy in the mix!
How many times did I use the word 'crazy' in this entry? Tons. That's about right.
Oh, we're also hosting Christmas Eve with Tony's fam this year. I'll be 38 weeks pregnant. Should I use that word again? I think I should... CRAZY.
Happy holidays!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Long awaited update
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
It seems that every year we have more and more for which to be thankful. This year is above and beyond the norm. Not to get all corny, but we've been through a lot recently and it's made us realize how lucky we are. As Tony put it so simply lastnight, "I like my life."
So in honor of the holiday, and in a lame attempt to summarize what's been going on with us over the past month and a half, here is what we are especially thankful for:
1. Tony turning 30 and all of the friends and family who helped us celebrate:
It was our first real party in the new house, and I was so preoccupied with being the hostess that I got very few pictures. But I assure you, it looked beautiful. Tony had a slide show of 'before' pictures looping on the TV and it helped to show everyone the amount of work that has gone into our home over the past 10 months. So many compliments for us and the boys at Choice Woodworking, Inc. And the party was a great time also. We fit about 50 people into our open and airy space. We couldn't have asked for a better way to ring in Tony's 30th year. And I am eternally grateful for everyone who helped me out before/during/after the party, as I wasn't exactly in top form in my delicate state.
2. The growing Butterball basting in my bellah:
I am almost 34 weeks at this point and it's absolutely surreal. I can't say it's been an easy road, but we're headed into the home stretch now and I'm feeling pretty good. We're not nervous yet, just excited and anxious. We want to meet our little man! As they say on St. John, baby soon come. :-)
3. Having such a big amazing family with lots of kids, and reaping the benefits!
This will be grandchild #9 for my mom and Tony's family has a couple little ones as well, so we've been lucky enough to be given many hand-me-downs... Furniture, decor, clothes (for me AND the baby), etc. We're not ones to need everything to be new and fresh. In fact, I kinda like the idea of using items that have been lived in and passed down with our families. We're still working on getting the nursery together. Once we do we'll post plenty of photos for the ol' blogosphere.
4. And lastly, we are thankful for the 15 years and hundreds of memories with our beloved Barkley, who went up to doggy heaven just last week.
He was a good dog, our best friend and first 'baby.' We miss him terribly... the house doesn't feel the same without him in it. But it was almost like he wanted to give us time to get ready for our human baby. So thanks, buddy. For all the happy times and for making us learn to work as a team when things got tough toward the end. Hopefully we're a little more prepared for this time in our lives because we were lucky enough to take care of you.
So have a great holiday everyone. Remember to tell those around you how much you love them, even your pets. And thanks to all for reading! We'll try to be better with the updates.
It seems that every year we have more and more for which to be thankful. This year is above and beyond the norm. Not to get all corny, but we've been through a lot recently and it's made us realize how lucky we are. As Tony put it so simply lastnight, "I like my life."
So in honor of the holiday, and in a lame attempt to summarize what's been going on with us over the past month and a half, here is what we are especially thankful for:
1. Tony turning 30 and all of the friends and family who helped us celebrate:
It was our first real party in the new house, and I was so preoccupied with being the hostess that I got very few pictures. But I assure you, it looked beautiful. Tony had a slide show of 'before' pictures looping on the TV and it helped to show everyone the amount of work that has gone into our home over the past 10 months. So many compliments for us and the boys at Choice Woodworking, Inc. And the party was a great time also. We fit about 50 people into our open and airy space. We couldn't have asked for a better way to ring in Tony's 30th year. And I am eternally grateful for everyone who helped me out before/during/after the party, as I wasn't exactly in top form in my delicate state.
2. The growing Butterball basting in my bellah:
I am almost 34 weeks at this point and it's absolutely surreal. I can't say it's been an easy road, but we're headed into the home stretch now and I'm feeling pretty good. We're not nervous yet, just excited and anxious. We want to meet our little man! As they say on St. John, baby soon come. :-)
3. Having such a big amazing family with lots of kids, and reaping the benefits!
This will be grandchild #9 for my mom and Tony's family has a couple little ones as well, so we've been lucky enough to be given many hand-me-downs... Furniture, decor, clothes (for me AND the baby), etc. We're not ones to need everything to be new and fresh. In fact, I kinda like the idea of using items that have been lived in and passed down with our families. We're still working on getting the nursery together. Once we do we'll post plenty of photos for the ol' blogosphere.
4. And lastly, we are thankful for the 15 years and hundreds of memories with our beloved Barkley, who went up to doggy heaven just last week.
He was a good dog, our best friend and first 'baby.' We miss him terribly... the house doesn't feel the same without him in it. But it was almost like he wanted to give us time to get ready for our human baby. So thanks, buddy. For all the happy times and for making us learn to work as a team when things got tough toward the end. Hopefully we're a little more prepared for this time in our lives because we were lucky enough to take care of you.
So have a great holiday everyone. Remember to tell those around you how much you love them, even your pets. And thanks to all for reading! We'll try to be better with the updates.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Stairway and Artwork
We've slowly been checking projects off of our list. Sometimes things get started, half-way done, and then left for a while. Life gets in the way.
A big one that we touched upon in a previous entry is the new stairway built by the boys of Choice Woodworking. Everything is brand new, from the treads to the risers to the railings, etc. Nick and Paul stained the treads and railings dark to match the wood floors upstairs. And everything else is a crisp white.
The boys finished their beautiful handy-work a while ago, but Tony still had to do some touch-ups on the white paint. So it only recently became officially completed. Here is the finished product:
25 weeks
26 weeks
Getting there!
A big one that we touched upon in a previous entry is the new stairway built by the boys of Choice Woodworking. Everything is brand new, from the treads to the risers to the railings, etc. Nick and Paul stained the treads and railings dark to match the wood floors upstairs. And everything else is a crisp white.
The boys finished their beautiful handy-work a while ago, but Tony still had to do some touch-ups on the white paint. So it only recently became officially completed. Here is the finished product:
So preeeeetty.
Although I can't seem to find a proper 'before' photo, here is the old stairway mid-demolition:
Dirty white paint and a blue carpet on the treads and risers. They had seen better days, obviously.
The crafstmanship is admired by all who see the new stairs... including by Nick and Paul themselves who are over all the time anyway. ;-)
A more minor project we've been gradually catching up with is hanging stuff up on the walls. We have so many random mis-matched frames and mirrors, it's hard to make sense of everything. So I tend to overthink where pictures should be hung, therefore leaving blank walls throughout the house. But here's one spot that's done:
Dining room. Photos of our trip out to the Southwest.
An obvious choice for the bathroom... photo to be hung on the wall. We purchased this at an auction, piece by the one and only Jenny.
We also put a mirror up in our entry way, which looks decent. So many more to go.
And here's some progress on the biggest project in our lives, Project Baby:
25 weeks
26 weeks
Getting there!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Sick Day
Here's what my day looks like: 
Pardon me for sounding indelicate, but it would be nice if the boobs would stop growing at the same rate as the belly. It's just getting awfully.. crowded. In the frontal area. I know, I know. I have a long way to go. Alls I'm sayin is, donations to the New Bras Every Two Weeks foundation are welcome.
But in terms of the pregnancy, I have been feeling pretty good lately. At the risk of jinxing it, things have been uneventful. Baby boy is moving around like crazy in there and Tony has finally been able to feel it from the outside, which is exciting and fun. I'm getting a lot of nice comments from strangers and coworkers who are just realizing the extra poundage is not just from chocolate donuts.
And typing those words was all it took... I just texted Tony to pick up a chocolate donut for me on his way home from work. The cravings for sweets are out of control. This is definitely his father's son!
Lots of tissues, digital Yahtzee, and the remote control. I figured after spending all day yesterday sneezing and coughing my way through work (with plenty of Purell at the ready), I'd give my coworkers a break. I'm home resting in the hopes of kicking this annoying cold. The good thing is there's no fever or body aches, and just a minor sore throat. So I think we can rule out that dreaded three-letter-word... starts with f and rhymes with shoe. That one.
But I don't have a wide array of choices when it comes to cold medicines right now, so a day of sleep, water, and back-to-back episodes of A Baby Story will have to do. Let's hope it does the trick.
Speaking of A Baby Story, here's the latest progress:
23 weeks
24 weeks
Pardon me for sounding indelicate, but it would be nice if the boobs would stop growing at the same rate as the belly. It's just getting awfully.. crowded. In the frontal area. I know, I know. I have a long way to go. Alls I'm sayin is, donations to the New Bras Every Two Weeks foundation are welcome.
But in terms of the pregnancy, I have been feeling pretty good lately. At the risk of jinxing it, things have been uneventful. Baby boy is moving around like crazy in there and Tony has finally been able to feel it from the outside, which is exciting and fun. I'm getting a lot of nice comments from strangers and coworkers who are just realizing the extra poundage is not just from chocolate donuts.
And typing those words was all it took... I just texted Tony to pick up a chocolate donut for me on his way home from work. The cravings for sweets are out of control. This is definitely his father's son!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Windows... and a bump update
Before we did all the work on the house, there was more separation between rooms, i.e. walls. So each room had it's own style... And I use that word loosely. My style consists of throwing together craigslist finds, clearance items, and hand-me-downs that look like they kinda-sorta go together, and then hoping for the best. Tony's style is whatever is cheapest and the wife likes, in that order.
Now that everything is opened up we've had to rethink the different styles and try to keep everything somewhat cohesive. In particular we've found this challenging with the windows. There were different blinds and curtains to suit the 'style' of each room.
Although I don't have any true "before" photos, here is an idea of what we had going on:
See that thing behind the 3 drunkards? That's our bay window in the main room. It's pretty indicative of what was going on throughout. Raw wood trim, yucky white horizontal vinyl blinds leftover from decades past, and whatever cheap curtains we found in the clearance bin.
22 weeks
Now that everything is opened up we've had to rethink the different styles and try to keep everything somewhat cohesive. In particular we've found this challenging with the windows. There were different blinds and curtains to suit the 'style' of each room.
Although I don't have any true "before" photos, here is an idea of what we had going on:
See that thing behind the 3 drunkards? That's our bay window in the main room. It's pretty indicative of what was going on throughout. Raw wood trim, yucky white horizontal vinyl blinds leftover from decades past, and whatever cheap curtains we found in the clearance bin.
Here it was yesterday:
Just painting the trim white was a huge improvement, which was done months ago. But we weren't sure what else to do. Instead of getting custom-sized (read: expensive) blinds for each window, we decided to go with a double curtain rod. Then we'd put a sheer curtain closest to the window for privacy, and a real curtain on the outside rod. Here's how it looks now:
We like it. In case you can't tell, the sheers are ivory and the curtains are chocolate brown with a checked-pattern texture to them.
A sidenote to all those shopping for 84" curtains... Apparenly, 84" sometimes really means 82". So the brown curtains ended up being 2 inches shorter than the sheers. Ugh. Luckily after a quick phone call to my mother, we let out the 2+" hem at the bottom and re-hemmed the bottom with some Stitch Witchery (great stuff). Thanks Mom!
A sidenote to all those shopping for 84" curtains... Apparenly, 84" sometimes really means 82". So the brown curtains ended up being 2 inches shorter than the sheers. Ugh. Luckily after a quick phone call to my mother, we let out the 2+" hem at the bottom and re-hemmed the bottom with some Stitch Witchery (great stuff). Thanks Mom!
Anyway... These brown curtains we bought recently are not only energy efficient, but they happen to be the exact same curtains we hang over our french doors in the fall/winter. Seen here in this blurry pic from Christmas last year:
So when it becomes cool enough to hang these again, the room will be balanced and warm (literally and figuratively).
For the rest of the standard-sized windows throughout the living room, bar area, and dining room, we wanted something easy, natural, and cute. So we went with my fave, bamboo blinds:
We could put some curtains up over these, but I think this look is nice enough to stand on its own. Also of note, these are cordless blinds, so no choking hazard! Gotta think of the bambino.
Speaking of the bambino, here are some pics of the ever-growing bump from the past couple of weeks:
21 weeks
22 weeks
In the last photo I am wearing my new maternity jeans, that I believe were stitched together by angels in heaven. You have been good to me, Bella Band, but it's on to bigger and better things.
And things are definitely bigger!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Project Baby: A Progression
Maybe it's just because I am knocked up myself, but I am fascinated by baby bellies and seeing the progression through the weeks. Going through it myself and seeing others go through it on various message boards and email groups, I realize that every person is different. I hadn't gained any weight in the first 16 weeks, and then BAM. What's up 8 pounds. Nice to see you there... on my rear. And everywhere else.
So here is my progress so far, in photos. (Please don't mind the messy background. I haven't made it to the nesting stage yet.)
13 Weeks -
14 Weeks -
16 Weeks -
18 Weeks -
19 Weeks -
20 Weeks (halfway there!) -
I'll continue taking photos, as painful as it might be the larger I become. And believe me, I'm getting bigger by the day. I figure this will be something interesting to look back on.
And hopefully a few months after delivery I'll be able to post a proud photo of myself back in fighting form. Wishful thinking?
So here is my progress so far, in photos. (Please don't mind the messy background. I haven't made it to the nesting stage yet.)
13 Weeks -
14 Weeks -
16 Weeks -
18 Weeks -
19 Weeks -
20 Weeks (halfway there!) -
I'll continue taking photos, as painful as it might be the larger I become. And believe me, I'm getting bigger by the day. I figure this will be something interesting to look back on.
And hopefully a few months after delivery I'll be able to post a proud photo of myself back in fighting form. Wishful thinking?
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