The arrival

He's here! Our sweet boy has arrived.

I swear I'm smiling. 

A note: Desmond Scott Simmons-Schey, I would like to apologize to you right now for giving you the longest name in the world. Mom and Dad couldn't pick a last name so you got both. You can go ahead a choose one later if you would like. Saves us the trouble.

Anyway.

All the things they say are true. We didn't know we could love something so much. We didn't know we could actually love each other MORE. It feels like it was always this way. He is already growing too fast for my liking. Oh, and we are tired.

But mostly we are so, so happy.

Oh hey buddy.

Baby's first selfie.

Desmond came into the world on Friday Sept 29th at 10:50pm. When they slid him on to my chest, in my shock and awe, I exclaimed "Oh my god. He's here!" as if I hadn't just spent 23 hours laboring and an hour pushing. As if somebody just knocked on the door and said, surprise! you have a baby!

I don't know what I was expecting. I mean that was the ideal outcome.

The whole process was beautiful, messy and wonderful. I was supported by Eric (birth coach and Hot Dad of the year), my amazing sister, and my extraordinary best friend who, conveniently, is a doula. The experience was definitely 5/5 stars. I recommend it.

There is one more thing that we also want to share, along with our bliss. An FYI of sorts. At our 20 week ultrasound (which by the way, feels like AGES ago), we found out that Desi would be born with club feet. After some initial shock, and some immediate research, we came to this conclusion:

"Oh. Well we can handle that."

In fact, when I was on the phone with the doctor who gave me the news, I remember saying,
"So there are no life threatening tumors? No hole in is heart? He has a brain? (side note: don't read facebook articles while pregnant) He will just need braces and maybe casts as a baby? Ok. But can you confirm no tumors? great. We can manage this."

And I don't think I am fooling anybody into believing that I am some calm as heck Mom who can handle anything (I literally asked the doctor if my baby had a brain, which seemed logical at the time). It's just that I was SO worried we were going to lose him at any point that this seemed so minor in the big picture.

It's not really minor. It's going to take a lot of work to correct, but he should be able to walk and run no problem after it is corrected. We will find out more next week after our first appointment with the specialist. Truth be told, we don't know anything more than what we've researched. Here's what we do know. 1 in every 1,000 babies is born with club feet (or just one club foot). It is a genetic disorder. He developed this way in the womb and it is not painful for him. Typical treatment is a series of full leg casts, changed weekly (for 4-8 weeks) to slowly adjust the positioning of the feet. Sometimes surgery is necessary depending on what they see in the xrays. After casts or surgery, he will wear braces on his feet for 3-4 years when he sleeps (braces will be worn full time for about 3 months).

So maybe it will be harder than we thought, or maybe it will be easier. Either way, we think Desmond is perfect.

We think he is exactly the child we are meant to have.

In the meantime, I am enjoying every minute with his sweet little Yogi feet. He looks so zen when he has them all tucked up under him. I'm a little sad to see them go. And we are mentally preparing for some long nights when he gets his first casts. And obviously I am searching etsy for some cute cast covers. Because, pictures.
Any knitters in my life want to step up to the challenge? #worldscutestcasts

Happy Yogi

Frog legs. So cute.

The long, strange trip (A reflection).

Well. Here I am, due any day now... and it sure feels like it. The last few weeks are hard y'all. It's not even the waiting that makes it hard. It's how uncomfortable you are and how difficult every thing has become. YOU try putting pants on when you are this top heavy.

But I am not here to complain. I actually have been lucky enough to have some time on my hands as slowly turn into a replica of Violet from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory after she eats that candy that turns her into a blueberry. "Violet you're turning violet!'

Classic.


And I digress from my digression.

In all this free time, I've been listening to music that I want to make sure the baby is exposed to early on. Naturally, there is some Grateful Dead in that mix among other classic artists. As I rocked out on the way to another doctor's appointment the other day, I couldn't help but agree with Jerry Garcia....what a long, strange trip this has been.

Not just pregnancy. Although, that is strange is so many respects - but my actual life. And here's were I get super reflective. Because, hormones and wanting to pass on life lessons to my children is a real thing right now.

To the ordinary person, my life does not seem that strange. But to me, it's been a trip. And I bet yours has too. You see, I have decided that life is really a series of things going exactly as we do not expect them to go. And our happiness can often depend on how we decide to roll with them. Often, but not always. And I get that. But for my purposes, I feel that most of my happiness has deeply depended on how I wanted to handle each new turn in the road. Sometimes it took me a really, REALLY long time to make that turn. To decide to be happy. Yet as the years go on it has become clear that those choices really matter.

I credit this a lot to my super fun, not always helpful, ADHD. I have had to learn to live my life with a lot of circumstances that seemed within my control which really weren't in my control at all. I have had to learn a lot of grace and forgiveness for myself. And I have had to learn how to find positive outcomes from those things that were not within my control. That was one of those longer lessons to learn.

I understand that this is where some people roll their eyes and think "Doesn't EVERYBODY have a little ADHD?"

The short answer is no. And there is a lot of research out there on how it affects the adult brain, and even more specifically how it affects women. But I am not here to dive into that research today. I just want you to understand that it has given me a much different perspective on life, mistakes, and regrets.

I want to talk mostly about regrets. They have been on my mind as I reflect on my strange trip. I think we have all been asked at one point or another what regrets we have. And I don't know about you, but I have come to an easy answer - "None. Or, well, almost none."

You see, I consider a regret something that I have not learned a lesson from, or become a better person from. I also often equate regrets with deep shame. As I consider the things I might regret, I can come up with two:

- The first 5 times I gave myself bangs, because I never seemed to learn not to. But I don't regret that 6th time - when I finally learned to stop. And also not to have wine while I do it.

- The few times I have been embarrassingly drunk. And while I did finally learn from that, I still feel deep shame about it.

Do I hope my kids never have these same regrets? yes. Will they probably anyway? yes. Nobody gets through life unscathed. But I'm really going to try and drive that 'don't cut your own bangs' lesson home.

But Christina, you say, haven't you been married and divorced once before? Wasn't it an incredibly painful part of your life? Surly you regret that.

Ok, so now we are talking about the big stuff. The stuff that may have been hard. Or resulted in some major 20/20 hindsight. But this is the meaty stuff that I learned from. These are the corners in the road of my life that I decided to turn and be happy with the direction it took me.

I do not regret my first marriage and it's painful demise. It was an VERY unexpected corner in the road that I stood at for a long time and truthfully, it's something that I am still learning important lessons from. And let me be clear, there was no magic trick that got me through it. It was brutal. But at the end of it all, I was the one that got to decide what to do with the outcome. And the outcome led me to where I am now. How could I possibly look back on that with regret? I may have actually been one of the better things that happened to me. Although, if you told me at the time, I would have probably legit growled at you and told you to pass the xanax on your way out.

But, that's the really big non-regret in my life, I have to say. There rest seem like little ones as I look back.

I wish I had learned how to learn sooner, so that college didn't feel so wasted. But I don't think I would have the career and love of learning I have today if I hadn't gone through that hardship. Now I will be super ready to get my PhD! (hahahahaha....but really. one day.)

I wish I had been better at saving money early on. However, maybe I needed to be shitty at it to figure out how to get better. It took longer than I'd like, but I learned.

I wish it hadn't been so hard to get pregnant. Yet I learned that I didn't need children to be happy with my life. I gained a deeper respect for my husband and our partnership through that struggle. It became clear to me that we were going to be ok no matter what. And maybe we needed that struggle to deeply root us. Because I hear having kids is no joke.

I wish I had learned earlier on to be more present. For my family, for my friends. This one I am still working on. And there are moments that I wish I had handled differently, but I am trying not to regret them because there is a lesson in each one. And I think that I am becoming a better wife, daughter, sister, and friend as a I learn from these moments. Thank goodness for family and friends with patient hearts.

I wish I had traveled more when I was younger. This one is connected to the saving money and the wasted college thing. But I am learning that it's not really too late - I just may need an actual bed rather than a hostel. And also, I want to take my kids on some adventures. It will be fun to experience it WITH them.


Really, I could go on and on, but at the end of the day, my life is simply not where I ever envisioned it ending up. The road I traveled is not the one I started on, or planned for as a young woman. And I have zero regrets about that.

The I told you so

You guys. YOU GUYS.

The title of this e-mail was "Do you know what to do in a baby emergency?"

OF COURSE I DON'T.

This seems like it would be suuuuper helpful and not panic inducing at all.

The E-mails

Ok, so I signed up for these e-mails that tell you what weird food is the same size as your baby and what amazing things you are growing each week (my favorite week was when I could tell everybody that I was busy growing genitalia all casual like when they asked what I was up to).

It's pretty neat, although some of the food comparisons are confusing. Sometimes it is based on weight, and sometimes based on length. Is my baby the weight of green onions, or the length of a cabbage? What is happening right now?! Is he really light and very long or kinda stout and heavy? Am I making a stew?

But I digress.

What you really need to know is that when you sign up for these e-mails, you also get other newsletters that give you a fresh new hell every week to be terrified about.

Or maybe that's just me. Probably.

But really, you guys. These e-mails.

"Epidurals: Pros and Ways they can kill you"

"10 things that most likely mean for certain that you are going into preterm labor"

"Everyday pieces of furniture that you should avoid if you don't want a dumb baby"

"Why isn't your car seat installed yet? You probably did it wrong anyway."

And I think we already established in my last post, that I am a well educated person (pinky toe has nothing to do with pregnancy, noted.), but man these e-mails. They really can make you second guess everything. Especially with pregnancy. Because here is the fun part: Everything is both normal and NOT normal when you are pregnant.

Not feeling the baby move alot? You should call the doctor, that's not normal. Except when it is normal. Different discharge? (sorry guys, pregnancy is gross. lets all get over it) You should call the doctor, that's not normal. Except when it is.

These e-mails may or may not have sent me to urgent care at least once. Because, spoiler alert, when you call the 24 nurse hotline, they ALSO tell you that it's not normal, except when it is. And that you should immediately come in just in case.

The other fun thing is that these e-mails tell you to trust your instincts. That you will KNOW if something is wrong. Well. I for one, have never hosted a human in my body before. Everything about it seems a little off, if you ask me. And just going with my pre-pregnancy baseline, I'm going to go ahead and tell you that my instincts will ALWAYS say something is wrong. They are not finely tuned. I have other strengths.

And, for the record, I have tried to unsubscribe from these lists about 3 different times, and it is NOT working. That's what happens when you are an old mom. The internet immediately becomes confusing upon conception. So I've just started deleting them and not reading. Because, you know what? My mom didn't have e-mail when she was pregnant with me. And I turned out ok.

Sigh. Well, I'm guessing that this is just preparing me for the massive amounts of Mommy shame that our culture loves to impart on each other. So that's good.

Pregnancy is very Glamorous

The one where I got pregnant

I don't know why it's been so difficult for me to write about getting pregnant - something I have wanted for so long and quite frankly, paid a lot of money for.

No. That's a lie.

I do know why.

It's hard for me to write about because at the end of the day, it felt like it was too easy for me. Here I had finally come out in the open about our almost 3 year struggle and was ready to share about the IVF process....and then....I didn't need it.

It feels silly.

We were waiting to get some tests done and the doctor was like, "Hey, do you want to try this other drug that might help you ovulate more?" And we were all, "Why not? We've got a month to kill." Then that month passed, and I peed (like clock work) on my stick of shame before school one day. I almost didn't look at the result because I knew it was negative. But I looked anyway, because why waste a good pee?

And then I said a few choice swears.

I believe the exact quote was, "THE F*%K?!"

And the rest, as they say, is history.

But my heart still carried all the stories shared with me about the struggle to get pregnant. I could picture those who were still trying, those who were still healing broken hearts. I know how it feels.

I made a little mantra for myself when I was feeling really bitter about it. Every time I logged on to facebook (so, like, every 10 minutes or so) and found somebody sharing their pregnancy, I would recite "Nobody gets pregnant to spite you."

Nobody gets pregnant to spite you.
Nobody gets pregnant to spite you.
Nobody gets pregnant to spite you.

It helped.

Anyway, what I want you to know, is that I still remember how it feels. In fact, that feeling led to one of the most paranoid first trimesters on record.* I just couldn't bring myself to believe it was true. I was convinced that the bottom was going to drop out at anytime. I was terrified and anxious. The nurse at my doctor's office was getting really good at talking me down. Also, she was really nice and had me come in for waaaaay more ultrasounds than necessary. This is a VERY photographed fetus we have on our hands. I hope it doesn't go to his head.

"Hi Sandy, it's Christina again. Listen, I know I'm a hot mess about this whole thing, but should I be worried that my pinky toe hurts? I mean, is that a THING? I know, I know, my pinky toe probably has NOTHING to do with being pregnant. I actually am quite educated, but you know how sex ed is in this country. I'm not sure what gaps I might have in my education."

I was terrified.

Hahahahaha. oh wait, I still am.

But it is getting better. Now it's just a mild terror. And I call the doctors office a lot less. Also, I hear this is all fairly normal. I currently have a rash on my leg, but I'm letting it go. It's probably not Zika.

Progress!

Anyway, I keep threatening to put up a sign:

It's been ___ days since Christina panicked and called the doctor.




For the record, it's been 20 days.


*I didn't do any research to back this.

The History

I suppose some of you don't already know.

You see, this is a blog that has risen from the ashes.


Hahaha. I say that so dramatically. It's not *really* true. It's just that I am an adult living with ADHD, and therefore, I sometimes forget to pay my bills to keep my domain and hosting active. The good news is that I nearly always remember other bills. Or, rather, I left Sweet Man Friend in charge.

I had a very lovely blog that I worked very hard on designing. Don't we all miss medication? I do.

I stopped medication to try and get pregnant. Most of my life doesn't suffer, but alas, the blog did.

You can all recite with me the ADHD mantra:

"Oh well."


Anyway, on said blog, I had a very poignant post about that time I had the world's longest miscarriage*. Which, incidentally, finished almost exactly 2 years ago. Happy anniversary?

I'm going to sort of try to revive it here.

This was just days after I had found out I was pregnant. We were SO excited. We told a few close friends and our families because we could hardly contain the news.

I was about 10 weeks along here. It was almost Christmas and we had designed the cutest holiday card as our announcement. We were planning to send it out shortly after Christmas when I got to the second trimester. It was a really cute card. Trust me. 

This was the day after I miscarried. Something had gone wrong right before our trip to Colorado for Christmas. The doctors got me in for an ultrasound and we found out the baby had stopped growing at 7 weeks. My body wasn't passing it, so I took a pill that helped it along. It was terrible, but I was ready to move on.

This picture was 3 months later. I was in a lot of pain in this picture. I would end up in the emergency room the next day in the worst pain I've ever experienced. It turned out my body had not passed all the tissue when it miscarried. I would need to have an emergency DNC to make sure that no damage was done to my uterus. Thankfully, it was not. 

Worlds. Longest. Miscarriage.*

I don't write this for sympathy. I write it because I was so grateful for all the women in my life who were open with me about their experiences miscarrying. It made me feel less alone. It made me feel normal. 

I also write it because I think it's important to note that I am smiling in all of these pictures. 

Be kind to each other. A smile hides a lot.

I am pleased to say that these days I smile because I know everything is going to be ok. 

(*There are no hard facts backing this, but trust me, it felt that way)

The tentatively positive news.

It's the little things, people.

We were able to figure out this whole testing situation, and had a few tests done this month (the rest will wait) and here is what we found out:

I have eggs! Plenty of them! They are good quality! And good hormone levels, and good thyroid levels, and no PCOS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome). This means we have a lot of options open to us. (This also means that when we do finally have a baby, I can forever embarrass him or her by saying "I always knew you were a good egg" and then proceed to launch into the whole conception story...)

While we wait for more test results, I will continue to take medication that....ummm...I guess boosts my ovulation situation. (best explanation I can think of). 

So that's where I'm at. And I'm very ok with it. 

Also I have been rewatching season 7 of 30 rock. And this is everything.