Who’s the boss.

As much as I hate to admit it I don’t think Kevin and I can take as much (if any) credit for the canine/baby harmony that has taken place. I am pretty sure I have got my pugs figured out.

Here Kevin and I were giving ourselves a pat on the back for giving our pugs an attitude adjustment when it came to our expanding family. I mean there are tv shows, careers, books and classes all focused on dog obedience, especially when adding a baby to the family and here we had won the baby war in a week. Yeah, we were a little satisfied with our dog training selves.

Living with the pugs after their submission I now know the real reason behind their acceptance. Respect.

Bringing Noah home  in the first week they thought they still ran this place and had it all figured out. Then slowly they realized that Noah may have more power than they originally thought and so began their retreat.

The pugs baby bewilderment has them pretty much saying, WTF?

maggie observing the new top dog.

Case and point: screaming. We have a handy dandy little pug stopper in our house, my BFF the squirt bottle. Blue man (mail man) comes to the house – bark bark bark – squirt – silence. Door bell rings – bark bark bark – squirt – silence. Cat dares to trek through the pug zone – bark chase bark chase – chase the stampede of animals and squirt – save the cat and silence – win, win. The squirt bottle is my saving grace. It is my humane way of checking my pugs. So imagine their awe when Noah screams and screeches louder than any bark they could muster up and not only do we not squirt him but we coddle and comfort him.

 Then there is the bodily fluid double standard. They have seen Noah, get us with pee, poop and projectile vomit and we don’t tell him no and put him out in the yard. They know poo or pee in the house, let alone on mom and dad = end of pug love.  Taking this especially hard is Humphrey. Humphrey got a little too close to a diaper change and got hit with some tinkle. Not only did the baby mark him, but we may have laughed a little at his expense annnd the said tinkle brought on a very unwanted bath. Pug ego peed on and bruised.

getting a pug wet is alot like getting a gremilin wet..it isn't in anyones best intrest.

Sleep is another touchy situation. With early wake up calls for work the pugs know sleep time is quiet time. A time they love, relish in and adore. Quiet time means pug cuddle time. Not now. Now sleep is on Noah time. Bed time is anything but quiet time now. We still cuddle the crap out of the dogs but they aren’t fans of the constant baby interruption. The pugs look at us in horror when not only do we not put Noah outside the door during a crying fit and tell him to be quiet but we feed him and cuddle him. They are perturbed by the fact that we snap right out of sleep and right to his needs and the fact that he is very rudely disrupting their REM cycle. For the first time in their lives would prefer anywhere other than our bed to sleep. Anything to get away from the 12am, 2am, 4am, 6am wake up calls. They sleep with us until the night time feedings get to be too much of a bother and then they retreat to more preferred sleep locations (ie: with no baby) the couch, floor, bath tub or the occasional laundry basket.

Humphrey in his self imposed laundry basket isolation.

They did not succumb to Noah because of us. Oh,no. They surrendered to his power. We may be alpha over the pugs (ok, not really but it is my blog and I will type what I want) but Noah is alpha over all of us.

Feeling blue, part two.

 

So once upon a time, before we realized they allow you to take your baby home even if your nursery isn’t complete we feverishly picked a paint color for our little beans room.

 

If you recall from this post, it was quiet the paint debacle. After considering every shade of blue under the sun, we thought we had a winner, River Mist from Martha Stewart. So we (we meaning: Kevin) painted the entire room.

 

River Mist is the middle blue...not so bad in a sploch...very bad painted all over a room.

I tried to love it. I tried to live with it. Every day I would come home from work and stand in the nursery fighting an internal decorating battle with myself and beg myself to love it. Soon I stopped going in the nursery and kept the door closed, because the pasty blue seemed to be taunting me every time I would walk by the nursery.

 

If I could paint this wouldn’t have been an issue. I would just pick out a new color and paint over it. I love to paint. There is something oddly calming to a semi (major) OCD freak like myself about a fresh coat of paint going up on the walls and all of the simple detail work that goes along with it. Kevin hates to paint. There is something oddly infuriating to him about painting, especially when that fresh paint gets speckled and dripped all over the floor, baseboards, windows and himself (note: Kevin does not do detail painting so we wont go there). Kevin’s approach is a little different than my 3 different types of paint brush, tape, newspaper, and glove method. His is sort of like a roller free for all, get as much as you can with the roller and call it a day.

 

Well my super husband knowing how important this project was to me decided to do it my way. Which took him 8 hours. And it wasn’t just a typical one color and a base board paint job…in order to get the boarder for the wooded alphabet we were going to install he had to measure a level line (in a unlevel room) all the way around tape it off and paint a two tone color effect.

 

So imagine my guilt for secretly hating the two colors I asked him to paint the nursery. Telling him involved me sobbing, a hormone fueled apology (that I am pretty sure made no sense) and making him a chocolate cake before I told him in order to soften the blow.

 

Luckily like I said earlier he is a super husband and dad and laughed and agreed it didn’t look right and we ate the chocolate cake sitting in the nursery picking out the two new paint colors.

 

We picked Kerry Terrier Blue and plain old pure white for the boarder (we really wanted the letters to stand out).

 

I went to work the next day and Kevin had the day off. He spent the entire day painting over his last paint job. When I got home and saw it all done, I had a happy pregnancy melt down. I cried. I laughed. I cried some more. Then I ate.

 

The two colors blending perfectly to create nursery bliss!

It was perfect. And it still is. We couldn’t imagine a better paint color for our little guys room…even though I am pretty sure it is going to be a while until Noah can enjoy it since I am pretty sure I am going to try to keep him in the bassinet next to my bed until he can crawl out of it or tell me he wants out!

love life and pugs….and baby.

So by now we all know I am in love (obsessed) with my dogs (fur babies). Leaving them for four days was torture on me.  I could just imagine their little hearts breaking the first night they were alone wondering where mom and dad were for bed time, and then the next morning and night, etc. I am going to cry just thinking about it!  I would be a classic case for any dog “whisperer” or dog therapist knock off tv show. Hi, my name is Dominique and I credit my dogs with having human emotion and let them run my life and I am ok with that. If you can look into their brown bulging eyes and not be putty in their paws you have no soul.

We had long suspected the meet and greet between Noah and the pugs may not go as well as we would like. After all Humphrey and Maggie are not puppies, have never been around babies and as far as they are concerned they are babies and have no interest in sharing that spot light. Humphrey has enjoyed the past 6 and Maggie last 4 years of their lives just as they were, with them as the center of our universe.

Our first day home went well only because the pugs were too excited we were home to absorb that there was a new addition to our family.  Day two, not so well.

The Noah acceptance process has been a bit of a roller coaster. Humphrey on day two decided Noah was enemy number one. Noah cried and it was on. After hearing him cry, Humphrey barked for a good two hours and ran around the house like someone had lit his curly little tail on fire. Then he tired himself out, napped and then started his anti-baby demonstration all over again…for the rest of the very long day. Maggie sunned on the back of the couch and ignored both him and Noah. At least only one pug hated Noah…or so we thought.

Humphrey was not making very friendly noises during this picture.

Day three, began the guilt trip of a life time via Humphrey. Every time I would go to pet him he would shutter and duck like I was going to hit him. His once curly tail hung long and straight. I told Kevin it was like the killer whales at sea world when their dorsal fins bend to the side because they are depressed (I realize now that is a bit of a stretch).  But now that Humphrey had put his guard down while he was laying the guilt on thick Maggie was on duty and she wasn’t having it. She paced around his bassinet like a shark in the water. Any time we tried to let her smell a blanket or sock of Noah’s she made her resentment very well known.

Humphrey sulking in the window, ignoring me calling his name and even offering cheese.

Day four will go down as the day of barking. Morning, noon and night. Barking, crying, whining, whimpering – it was like living in a dog kennel.

Thankfully day five brought some relief. I am pretty sure even the pugs were tired of their baby strike because it was as if overnight they were over caring about the situation and reverted back to our normal loving fawn goobers.

Humphrey's real reason for accepting Noah, he comes with new toys and fun baby things to steal.

Things are much better now, in fact they are better than we could have hoped. They lick Noah’s feet and wag their tails. When he cries they don’t view it as a challenge to see who can make the most noise. When I feed him they don’t try to wedge in between us.

Maggie relearning how to stay...specifically stay away from baby.

Long story short, I still love my dogs…just for a few days there I thought they didn’t love me anymore/made it their mission to destroy me.

So no dog whisperer needed here, I will continue to treat them as my babies, there is just a new baby to add to the group.

Happy Mother’s Day

This mother’s day was one that I will never forget. It started out squished in my hospital bed with Kevin with Noah snug in between us and just after midnight Kevin wishing me my first mother’s day.

I received the best gift I could ask for this mother’s day, I got to take Noah home.

The entire day was dreamlike. Kevin’s family came to visit us before we were released and brought Kevin’s baby album. We were all in such awe of how much Noah looks like Kevin, flipping through the album was incredible. Not only did I get to see Kevin through the years but it was like every page I flipped was a glimpse into Noah’s future.

After they left my mom came to see us out of the hospital and help us settle back into our home. Leaving the hospital was surreal. Being wheeled out with my little bundle of joy out to take him into the real world was humbling.

The 5 minute drive home from the hospital felt like an eternity. Somehow this once routine route  in my mind was like a scene out of Ice Road Truckers. Nothing was out of the ordinary but mommy mode had me a little (a lot) over protective during Noah’s first car ride. Every pot hole stopped my heart and 35 miles an hour felt like 90. Luckily I have an amazing husband and he didn’t mind me checking how fast he was driving every block.

Once we got home before Noah could come through the front door we had some pug business to take care of. My mom held Noah on our porch while Kevin and I reunited with our fur babies. Judging by their reactions I don’t think they thought we were coming back. Four days away from them was four days too many. They cried, howled and burrowed their little flat faces into us. It broke my heart. I knelt down to the ground and they both ran up and put their faces under my chin and just whimpered and wagged their tails. It was quiet the welcome home.

We brought Noah in and started to get settled into our new family. It was hard to believe that the last time we had left the house it was just Kevin and I and now us wasn’t just two it was three.

Time went by in the blink of an eye. Before we knew it after unpacking, showering, setting up and just plain gawking over Noah it was night time. Kevin and I set up camp in the nursery. The room we had worked on for months and months finally had its missing piece. Having him in the room made it complete and it fits him perfectly. Kevin and I laid out his baby quilt on the rug and laid there with him dreaming about our future as a family.

Soon I was asleep and daddy was giving me the best gift he could (besides Noah) much needed sleep. Kevin saw us both to bed and watched Noah sleep so I could get some solid rest in.

I can’t wait for all of the handmade cards and breakfast in bed concoctions that Noah and Kevin come up with for mother’s days to come, but this mother’s day will always have a special place in my heart.

Hello world.

Our perfect, little baby boy.

Lots more to come, too busy enjoying being mommy and haven’t quite digested Noah’s labor story enough to write about (that and I can’t pull myself away from him for more than two seconds) but he and I are both happy and healthy so that is all that matters! Will update soon!

The day before.

I am sitting here. The house is quiet. There is a peace to it but the buzz of the excitement overwhelms it.

Tomorrow morning at 5:30am I will be induced and sometime between then and Thursday Noah will be here.

The next 72 hours will be a whirl wind of everything I have been preparing for and more.

A lot of people have been asking me if being induced bothers me, not at all. The day we found out I was pregnant I had my birth plan set in place. Bring Noah into this world healthy and safely – whatever it takes. This is just a part of that plan.

I will miss being pregnant. I still have not gotten to the point where I am desperate for all of this to be over. Everyone keeps asking if I just want him out and the truth is I could do this forever. I could do this 10 more times. It has been the most amazing experience of my life. I was a little relieved when all that spicy food and walking didn’t work. I am glad that I got a couple of days to just enjoy being pregnant. Although I am pretty excited that after such an amazing experience I get to have an even more amazing one, having a baby.

There is a void in our home and we are ready for it to be filled, we are ready to mom and dad. Our lives have revolved around getting to this point for the past nine months.

I remember meeting Kevin in middle school, when we were just kids. It still takes my breath away thinking that, that boy I feel in love with all those years ago is still my best friend, my husband and now the father of our little boy.

I am ready for whatever tomorrow brings. I am ready to meet this little one I already am so in love with, I am ready to fall even more in love with him when they put him in my arms. I can’t wait for Kevin to meet his son. I can’t wait to see what he looks like, what color hair he has or look into his beautiful eyes.

I am ready for the dirty diapers and sleepless nights because with all of that comes the best gift in the world, our baby boy.

Inducing heartburn.

So with the looming induction, Kevin and I were given the green light to try to naturally induce at our doctors appointment. No sooner had we hit the car did I have google up and running on my phone with “how to induce labor naturally”.

I am not sure my mind was ready for all of the methods that some mom to be‘s were willing to try. I narrowed down our choices by sticking to more reputable sites.

After reading about 20 list it looked like we had a few good contenders. Walking, spicy food, Chinese food and pineapple.

That day Kevin and I went to lunch at PF Chang’s. We ordered their spiciest menu options. I figured spicy Chinese food, we are taking out two birds with one stone! I nervously bit into each item expecting horrifying heat. I don’t know if I have some sort of super human spicy tolerance but it wasn’t doing it. So out of desperation I took my bowl of chili rice and added straight chili paste and oil to it and ate it. Kevin wanting to do his part and at least attempt to be able to empathize with me took a big bite of it. With tears in his eyes he said, “I am glad you are carrying Noah, I couldn’t eat another bite of that if my life depended on it.” I ate the entire bowl of rice and downed about 5 glasses of water and followed it by 4 tums and hoped that would do the trick but no such luck.

That night still hoping to give Noah a nudge we went to BW3’s and ordered a variety of their hottest wings. I think I ate more ranch and sour cream than chicken with that meal. I would quickly eat three wings and then eat a potato wedge with about 3 tablespoons of sour cream on it to attempt to sooth my mouth.

We waited to see if it would kick start my contractions but still no dice. Just a very upset mouth and stomach.

The next day I ate an entire pineapple. This might not seem like a big deal but after the first bite I knew I was in trouble. My body was pretty angry with me from the day before still. My lips burned, my mouth stung and my stomach felt like it was on fire and I just ate a bite of the most acidic fruit in the world.

But I ate it all. It did take two rounds but I finished the entire pineapple.

Still no luck.

So we are still trying walking. At 39 weeks walking is a form of torture. Walking right now feels like I have just drank 3 big gulps, have to pee like nobodies business and am forced to bounce on a trampoline. Every step bounces Noah’s head on my bladder. The walk consist of Kevin holding my hand while I crush his and me saying ,“oh my God I have to pee, I have to pee right now and we are (insert how many blocks) away from home, I am going to die!” Then I get home and oh wait, false alarm I didn’t have to pee. Hilarious.

Last night after our walk, I was making dinner. Plain white rice and chicken, about as non offensive as you can get and Kevin saw the hot sauce on the counter. His eyes darted to the rice and chicken and in a panic asked “why is the hot sauce down?” I told him I ate it on the pineapple that morning (don‘t worry I am not that crazy, I didn‘t). He said that was fine with him as long as it didn’t touch dinner.

The only thing Kevin and I have successfully induced is heartburn and a slight phobia of hot sauce.

All in all I am pretty sure inducing labor outside of going to the hospital and being induced is impossible. So instead of trying to force Noah out between now and Wednesday I am going to relax, eat food that doesn’t fight back and attempt to enjoy these next couple of days if he doesn’t decide to show up until Wednesday (or Thursday because I said I was going to have a Cinco De Mayo baby!).

(I am pretty sure that I just said I was planning on relaxing….if that doesn’t jinx me into labor I don’t know what will!)

The final count down.

Three weeks ago when they told me I was at 1.5 centimeters, I wasn’t sure what to think. Dilated? Me? Already?

My braxton hicks had gotten a lot worse and more frequent but nothing that left me thinking I was dilated. I was pretty excited. 1.5 down only 8.5 to go!

My next appointment we found out I was at 3 centimeters. I made the doctor repeat herself after telling us the first time. She laughed and repeated herself. She also calmed my fears that I was meer seconds away from going into full on active labor after reading my deer in head lights face…well, sort of. She explained I could be at 3 centimeters for 3 seconds or 3 weeks. She said normally, especially with your first you don’t stay at 3 for long. I made extra care in hopping off the table to make sure I did not, you know drop Noah out right then and there. At that point we were still a little too early to deliver and I was having obviously productive contractions. Noah was ready to go but we had to put on the brakes so my doctor recommended that I start my leave and try to rest as much as possible to carry him for another week.

On the chart they showed us in birthing class there were 4 different faces to explain labor and the levels of pain, 0 -1 is the happy face, 2 to 3 centimeters is the sort of uncomfortable but still happy face. The next face 4-5 is the oh my God-get him out of me-angry face… the go time face.

Over the next couple of days I eventually stopped walking around on egg shells that at any moment I was going to go from pregnancy bliss to go time.

Then yesterday I had my 39 week appointment. The exam went as usual and then after telling me I was still at 3 centimeters my doctor asked, so would you like to be induced tomorrow at 5am?

Um, say what?

My mind went blank. I knew I should have a million questions but I couldn’t get a single one out. Luckily Kevin (super husband/dad) swooped in. Kevin asked the doctor if it was her or her daughter pregnant what would she recommend. She paused and smiled and said she would wait a week until next Wednesday, his due date and induce if he had not come by then. I felt a lot better after he ran down his list of what was best for Noah, me, what inducing meant, if we were favorable to be induced, etc…he really did read the baby books.

After the appointment I talked with both of our moms and they put me even more at ease. Both of them have gone through pregnancies that have been induced and explained it is nothing to be afraid of but what is the harm in seeing if he pops out in the next couple of days?

In order for Noah to get a move on – I have gotten my move on. I have been waddling around trying to get gravity on my side or jump start my contractions. Kevin and one of his managers at work have a running joke on who wants to walk Dominique, that maybe while he is at work he should hire someone to walk me. Luckily Kevin and my mom have been on board with the whole brisk waddle that leaves me panting while they slowly stroll beside me. If I could do high knees around the block or jog I would. I am pretty sure that just waddling around right now is the equivalent to running a marathon at a sprints pace.

So now I am off to eat a trough of spicy food, do some jumping jacks and waddle around some more.

So that is where we are at. Maybe baby any day, definitely baby on May 4th. Either way this week I will be a mommy and our little guy will be here!

Bug 101.

(Gasp!) OH MY GOD! DO NOT MOVE!

(Kevin jumps up)

I said don’t move! There is a bug on you!

(I debate whether or not to smack it or attempt to point it out to him so he can do the dirty work – but like a loving wife I closed my eyes and swung at him)

I think I got it, don’t move let me see.

(Kevin moves and brushes him self off)

Now we will never know! How am I going to sleep with a potential preditor in our bed!

What was it?

I don’t know…black, beetle-ish.

(I start stripping the bed of all bedding in a frantic hunt for the bug)

I found it!

(Kevin leans over to inspect the bug which is about the size of a sun flower seed…out of it’s shell…)

Oh my god! It was a cockroach!

Are you kidding me? That is a bettle. A harmless, little black bettle.

No, it squished. Bettles don’t squish, they have exoskeltons.

Ok, bug 101 aside that is/was a bettle not a cockroach – we are going to bed. Oh, next time please try to act less like their is an axe murderer behind me and more like there is a small harmless insect on my shirt.

Expecting.

If I’ve learned anything throughout this pregnancy, it’s not to listen to other women’s horror stories or read too much into pregnancy books. Sure, both can be a source of useful information, but they are more often a source of unnecessary stress and worry.

So to break it down, at least from my experience here is what I should have expected as opposed to what I was told to expect or expecting to expect.

What I expected but didn’t happen:

– Constipation: Some books made it sound like my colon would forget how to function for nine months. Maybe it’s all of the fruit and fiber-filled cereal I eat, but this hasn’t been an issue for me. Even with prenatal vitamins chock full of bowel-binding iron supplements.

– Bloody gums and teeth problems: Again, maybe it’s because I drink a half gallon of milk every day and from the amount of Tums I eat they could be considered one of my daily meals, I am pretty sure my calcium intake is at it’s max. But I would like to flashy my pearly whites at the dentist that told me that pregnancy can make: A) your teeth fall out B) your gums will bleed like a faucet and that C) having a baby will pretty much destroy your teeth. Milk and Colgate on my side this didn’t ever effect me.

– Mood Swings: I half way expected to turn into Linda Blair at the drop of a dime once I saw those two pink lines. Based on every thing I had ever read, watched or heard about pregnancy I pictured every second of pregnancy to be a hormone free for all . Luckily for me (and Kevin) pregnancy has put me in a perma bubble of pregnant bliss.

What I expected and won’t miss:

– Maternity clothes: At the beginning, they seemed so awesome in all of their comfy elastic goodness. Then the elastic started digging into my flesh and as I grew bigger so did the struggle to get in and out of these elastic death traps. It is pretty much like a cirque de soleil act getting into maternity wear and as much fun as changing out of a wet bathing suite getting out of them.

– Prenatal vitamins: Burping up that herbal garbage is enough to make me want to vomit my entire stomach. Not just its contents. My entire stomach.

– Heartburn: I rarely indulged in the chalky goodness that is Tums before pregnancy. Now I need one after ingesting something as inoffensive as a banana. Add the newest pregnancy symptom, while sleeping, actual acidic liquid travels into my throat and then down the wrong pipe. Not even an entire container of Tums could tackle that bullshit.

– Shortness of breath: Walking up a flight of stairs shouldn’t feel like the equivalent of climbing Mount Everest.

– Worrying: Worry is my middle name – add to that pregnancy already comes with a boat load of worry it is a wonder I can sleep at night. Not knowing what my body is doing at any one moment is enough to keep me up at night. Not to mention whether Noah is developing properly. And I’ll be more than happy to put fears about labor and delivery behind
me.

– Urine, blood samples and invasive lady appointments: Ugh, I still haven’t completely mastered peeing in a cup. And my veins do NOT cooperate. I’d make a horrible drug addict. And who wants to have the already dreaded “once a year lady check up” once a week – not this lady.

– Feeling huge: Some days I just want to be able to bend over without grunting.

– Swelling: This one caught me off guard. Apparently working 9 hour days on your feet causes your feet to grow 9 sizes and become nearly unrecognizable. I was pretty much mortified when I touched my foot and the finger indent stayed there for 15 minutes. Thank god it is just my feet, cankles might pop my pleasant pregnant bubble.

What I expect to miss most of all:

– Kicks, punches, hiccups and flip flops: Feeling Noah move is by far my favorite part of pregnancy. I am so in love with every stretch and kick that I can’t help but break into a smile when he moves. I feel so connected to him. And sharing that experience with Kevin or friends and family never gets old.

– Feeling beautiful: Sometimes, when I look at my profile in a mirror, I know this is the most gorgeous I’ve ever felt in my entire life. Even more than on my wedding day.

– Voluminous hair, flawless skin, perfect nails: Apparently having a crapload of estrogen in my system agrees with me.

– Indulging in a craving: Finally getting that particular random food that you have been pining for is such an intensely satisfying feeling, especially knowing once this guy is out those days of indulging in cravings that end in me consuming over half an economy sized bag of peanut butter m&m’s for lunch will be over.

– Ultrasounds: There is nothing more amazing than seeing Noah in utero. It always takes my breath away.

– Strangers’ reactions: Some people just smile. Some ask whether it’s a boy or girl. Some just wonder when I’m due. Either way, people I don’t even know show me they care and want to share in my excitement.

– Wondering, wishing, waiting: It is like the feeling of being a kid on Christmas Eve times a million – that and you never know when “Christmas” is actually coming! A new baby is the ultimate gift to look forward to.