tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67680218791949770802012-01-31T02:19:38.444-05:00Male Factor Infertility. IVF. ICSI. Waiting. Cynicism. Pregnancy. BABY! It's just a good blogging time.'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.comBlogger4781100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-56156153292367557022012-01-12T19:33:00.001-05:002012-01-12T19:33:33.580-05:00

Yes, it's a little late for a Christmas themed post...but this is totally more post-Christmas-clearance-shopping themed. Should I even feel guilty? No. Because he's my kid. And if I want to dress him in a Santa hat and a small dog costume I can, dammit. This is likely not what you had in mind when I said I might post more, but hey, it's a start. 

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-9456663676558590522012-01-01T09:01:00.001-05:002012-01-01T09:01:46.761-05:00

Wishing you all a Happy New Year. 2011 was a good one all in all. I started it out in a rough state. Not sleeping. In a job I hated. In a marriage teetering on the brink of disaster. But it ended with a full night's (co)-sleep. An awesome job that I love. New friends. An amazing toddler. A somewhat better (though not entirely perfect) marriage. Oh, and that horrid witch of a boss at my old job...

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-74104322188720587902011-11-02T22:01:00.000-04:002011-11-02T22:01:03.071-04:00

Well. A little late for a Halloween Boo...but nonetheless. Boo. As in, "It's me! I'm still here! Boo!" All is well. Too well. Too good. Too great. You see, I've always been one of those 'pained' writer types. As it writing got me through some really rough times. Miserable times. Painful times. And now, well, things are good. And I don't have a lot of free time. To write. (and that's just me, I

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-46905714033576593792011-09-16T06:30:00.000-04:002011-09-16T06:30:08.572-04:00

LOVE my new job. Why didn't I do this sooner? Oh, sure. Things aren't perfect there. But what they think of as problems I view as minor inconveniences, or certainly things that will be worked through easily in the future. I at least don't have a boss who bullies me. A hospital who expects me to 'fix' things that cannot be fixed. People who won't even smile when you walk by. Despite the

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-49658140191482945332011-09-12T17:43:00.000-04:002011-09-12T17:43:28.621-04:00

Some things that have happened: 1. Gabriel tripped, hit his head on the corner of the door, and got his forehead glued back together. It was absolutely heartbreaking. Also it was heartbreaking when I came home 2 days later and found the glue scraped off and a husband who reported, "Oh, well, what can you do?" I steri-stripped it, reinforced it with benzoin, and three weeks later it's just a

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-34875938026517462322011-08-16T22:19:00.000-04:002011-08-16T22:19:39.810-04:00

You, and you know who you are, for not resisting being a part of the gossip for even 2 days. Or me, for actually posting about my upcoming resignation before I had delivered it. Here. On a semi-anonymous internet blog where I don't use my real name even. And hardly ever put up pictures of myself. Still. Pretty dumb move. (though I'm still not convinced this was the source). Live and learn.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-33260223138198742142011-07-23T22:46:00.000-04:002011-07-23T22:46:43.534-04:00

And Other Life Happenings... My Child: I am falling more in love every day. Now when I say 'I love you' he grabs my face and gives me a huge slobbery kiss. I melt. He is starting to 'sing'...sometimes it's 'Itsy Bitsy Spider' (I can tell because of his hand gestures), sometimes it's 'Wheels on the Bus' (I can tell because of the 'swish swish swish' of the wipers), and starting today it's

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-78600502579279028222011-07-20T21:41:00.000-04:002011-07-20T21:41:06.064-04:00

The Toddler Version. Please take special note of the following: A) The Burp B) He does NOT like it when the pages don't stay down. C) "You dare point the camera at me while I'm reading?! I noticed and I'm not happy!" Storytime is really getting better and better. Except I miss the part where I would sometimes read. I am, for the time being, not permitted to hold and/or read the books.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-34092439366830304952011-07-18T22:54:00.001-04:002011-07-18T22:55:12.089-04:00

Ok. I think the most I got out of him was "Bups!" But that's cute enough, right? Oh my sweet, sweet boy. My weekends are my treasured time. But try as I might to savor every moment they slip through my fingers like 'wahdah'. We had the absolute best time this weekend. Playing. Blocks. Cuddling. Eating (me). Throwing food (him). It made me cry a little bit on Sunday night. And I missed

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-60285074677374504232011-07-15T05:43:00.000-04:002011-07-15T05:43:20.406-04:00

Must.Write.This.Down.Before.I.Leave.For.Work.... 1. Two nights ago I put Gabriel down to sleep and came back out to the living room. It is pretty common (at least with the latest tooth in the works) that he wakes up at least once before I get into bed. I know this because I can hear on the monitor that he wakes up, sits up, then starts to breathe faster in a panic just before starting to cry.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-46605019483292056092011-07-11T22:20:00.000-04:002011-07-11T22:20:56.876-04:00

I give you Exhibit A: This is Gabriel riding on a scooter with my Mom. I won't really get started on my opinions of those scooters. Because that would be a sidebar that would extend well to the bottom of this page. Because I truly do despise those scooters. And everything they stand for. Or don't stand for. But I'm sure if I express my opinion about medically unnecessary scooters I will '

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-60756236893137375282011-07-05T21:59:00.000-04:002011-07-05T21:59:09.307-04:00

1. BINGO! I got a new job. Well, not really a new job. The same(ish) job. But I got a new boss that I like, a new title, and a new focus. Plus whatever of my old focus I want to keep. My new job is to focus on whatever priority initiatives the hospital defines as being a 'priority'. Um. Whatever. Pretty much I'm the hospital's bitch. But I don't care. I have a new boss. But seriously. Isn't it

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-6433557777896674542011-07-04T21:45:00.000-04:002011-07-04T21:45:25.567-04:00

Today was the 4th of July. Tomorrow is the 5th of July. Tomorrow I have to go back to work. Tomorrow I have to wake up at 5 o' clock in the morning to schlep my buttocks up to the hospital so I can continue to try to do the right thing while my boss continues to try and sweep my discovered problems under the carpet. Oh the weight in the pit of my stomach. I didn't get the job. The one I really

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-71657243830636257912011-06-29T22:07:00.000-04:002011-06-29T22:07:23.712-04:00

And not a drop to drink. That's how I'm feeling about my job search right now. There are literally hundreds of jobs out there I could apply for, at least 10, 15, 20 I would actually like, but probably only 2 or 3 that I have the experience for that will pay what I am currently making (and need to survive considering I am winning the bread and all that) AND that I would actually like. I

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-36594764492683503812011-06-16T22:10:00.000-04:002011-06-16T22:15:49.922-04:00

Life. It's busy. Please feel free to make the inference that I am not posting often because: A. The bedtime routine has somehow taken 15 steps back probably for lots of reasons     1. Teeth. We've had 7 for some time now. Where are the rest? Get here already!     2. Separation Anxiety Stuff. Wow. 'Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama!' And lots of panic and screaming.     3. Me going back on my 'let him cry'

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-86257751993576724762011-06-09T22:09:00.000-04:002011-06-09T22:09:33.517-04:00

But Lis just lost her twins, Thomas and Bayli.....at 21 weeks, the same point in her pregnancy that she lost her twins Ayla and Juliet less than two years ago. Please head over to Built in Birth Control and give her some words of love and support.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-784561698788819582011-05-28T21:21:00.000-04:002011-05-28T21:21:02.761-04:00

Yes, I am aware every parent has moments where they are absolutely positively certainly sure that they have the brightest most intelligent child that has ever graced the face of the earth. I don't claim to be anything different, but in our house this child is extraordinary. I guess I just spent so many months witnessing small light bulbs going off for Gabriel, but let's face it...the majority

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-5218398253609887922011-05-24T06:03:00.000-04:002011-05-24T06:03:14.798-04:00

1. Purchase a cake. Because you are too busy lazy to make one. 2. Find a clean happy baby. 3. Taste Test Baby Cake. Just to be sure it's good. 4. Gnam. Nam. Yum. Numnumnum. 5. If you have to, you can use your hands. 6. Feed Mama. She likes cake. 7. Pause for a super cute picture. 8. Realize you have eaten too much cake and will be awake all night. You may never eat cake again.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-20581356228869688812011-05-19T05:37:00.000-04:002011-05-19T05:37:03.477-04:00

I wanted to post this yesterday, but encountered some technical difficulties--as in my nice widescreen video was all scrunched up into 4:3 and we all looked too smushed to post in public. It's long, and I'm pretty I'm not able to understand how anyone wouldn't want to watch five minutes of MY child. But the embedded videos are worth sticking around for, in my personal opinion. It's hard to cram

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-59552889903366985492011-05-17T21:26:00.000-04:002011-05-17T21:26:16.806-04:00

Happy Birthday Gabriel. 5/18/2010. 4:35am. You amaze me. This week.... I picked up a bottle of water and you said, "Ahhhhhh."  Like the kind of 'ahhhh' one makes after taking a totally refreshing swig of a beverage. I sneezed and you pretended to sneeze, but all you can really do is blow raspberries, so you said, "Ahhh-Ahhhh-pppbbbbbtttt" and then laughed hysterically. You grabbed your Dad's

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-14454729458402875882011-05-16T21:02:00.000-04:002011-05-16T21:02:31.280-04:00

Just look at that face. Okay. So I always swore I would never ever OMG for realz evah talk be one of those annoying parents who talks about their kid's po.op. And for sure I would never ever EVAH have the gall to write about said po.op. Yet here I am. But don't consider it po.o talk. Consider it a Public Service Announcement. Because you need to know these two things can happen. Number One.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-39162403428198074992011-05-15T21:47:00.000-04:002011-05-15T21:47:04.630-04:00

One year ago today I was in labor. (Ahahahahaha). Okay. I was contracting. And was probably right about now loading my pregnant arse into my husband's Toy.ota Cam.ry with a pillow and a towel on top of the seat on my way to the doula's house--and then to the hospital--only to find out I was barely one centimeter dilated and just a big old labor of a joke. But at least they gave me some

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-39158854464436730592011-05-11T21:43:00.000-04:002011-05-13T16:32:35.564-04:00

And he is the absolute joy of my life. And to think one year ago I was walking laps around this park just wishing I would go into labor. And now here I am, sticking my kid up in a tree having his picture made. It's so mind blowing to me how much my world his been turned upside-down and right-side-up again in just 365 days. I am truly complete now. And yes, there are lots more pictures to

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-56387965248108962872011-05-04T21:50:00.001-04:002011-05-04T21:59:40.843-04:00

Happy Feet But not because of sleep issues or anything like that. Just because I'm dog tired. Dog. Tired. Except my dog pretty much gets to sleep all day, and I don't. Here's what's been going on with us. Me. Us. And him. And the other him. 1. Gabriel. ...is turning ONE in a few weeks. I finally threw together an e-card and begged my Step-Mom to host a cook out. I really want a low key thing

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-85738412637009777342011-04-26T22:26:00.000-04:002011-04-26T22:26:03.301-04:00

"Just Prop Your Hips Up for 20 Minutes After Sex" Really. Really? This may not actually qualify as an 'infertility' myth. Or even as a fertility myth. Maybe some person out there actually got pregnant on their third month of laying with their behind up in the air propped up on a sofa cushion, a pillow pet, or a bean bag chair, and declared this the solid truth on pregnancy achievement. For

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-35846148836209175432011-04-19T09:00:00.000-04:002011-04-19T09:19:41.439-04:00

We are lucky. We didn't win the money lottery. We carry a reasonable amount of everyday debt. We owe money on two cars and a house. We spent 15,000 (ish) dollars to make a baby. And we are lucky. If you've read here for any amount of time you know we didn't get lucky in the ball category, and the odds of me getting pregnant naturally are the slimmest thing about me. Oh, and by slim I mean we

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-83837749628536091162011-04-14T22:14:00.001-04:002011-04-14T22:19:22.958-04:00

First, a picture: These things are happening:He walks! Well, five steps in a row before falling--but that is pretty big! Gabriel is the most fun guy ever on the planet. I so incredibly amazingly enjoy my time with him now. When I'm laughing about something with someone else he just joins right in with his head thrown back and just chuckles away like, "Dude, I so totally get exactly what you

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-55798826574523066012011-03-29T21:42:00.000-04:002011-03-29T21:42:29.210-04:00

*snort*...details? I so wish there were some rhyme or reason to anything we've done. Also, I don't know if you'd want to repeat it or not. Whatever it is, I can guarantee we did it wrong. And my writing is not random. Tonight I feel successful. Tonight Gabriel went to sleep after a mere 20 seconds of crying. It was more like one scream that was filled with, 'Oh to hell with you guys I'm going to

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-35654013100704622312011-03-25T21:46:00.001-04:002011-03-25T22:11:48.398-04:00

I've been waiting to write this post. Mostly because I'm still harboring a certain sense of guilt. That's me. Always wishing something could be different and not able to recognize things are just fine the way they are. I imagined myself breastfeeding until the end of the first year. A biting maniac pulled out the stops on that plan, because I just wasn't able to cope with being a human boob

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-54804724725746631732011-03-13T22:15:00.000-04:002011-03-13T22:15:09.300-04:00

Some Updates Given my lack of writing it is safe to assume our sleeping plans haven't been progressing as, well, planned. My husband and I just aren't on the same page, and I find it hard to believe we can truly be successful if we aren't working as a team. We are still working on the teamwork. Also, I have hugely mixed feelings about giving up co-sleeping. Mostly because given my long hours,

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-18892202018744536582011-03-01T20:27:00.000-05:002011-03-01T20:27:17.096-05:00

For starters, Gabriel and I had a lovely play date with Aisha and her adorable son, W on Sunday. It obviously started out with coffee (because sleep isn't happening so much despite all our half-assed efforts). We then progressed to playing in a book store play area that was probably meant for older kids who don't spontaneously fall or continuously try to open the box to every toy in the vicinity.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-67054456279116970362011-02-24T21:46:00.000-05:002011-02-24T21:46:05.957-05:00

I mean, The Wolf  9 Month Old in Sheep's 18 Month Clothing. Giant. Kid. 9 months old. NINE months. Except nine months was really several days ago. Or as a friend of mine put it when I announced my son was 9 months old on the 18th, "well, he should have been nine months old about 5 days ago." Which, yeah, I had pretty much made a good attempt to block that memory. But oh this little cement block

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-56913079359415539852011-02-17T05:56:00.000-05:002011-02-17T05:56:49.238-05:00

With Screaming. And a quick update. Sorry to ditch out on the sleep play by play, but we've had a nutty week here in the 'Murgdan' household. Sleep? Yes. And no. To put it short the crib 'transition' has completely fixed the 'evening' issue. Gabriel now has no problem going down in his crib at the start of the night (I do rock him to sleep), and he'll stay asleep until his first waking, which

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-50673486685151109472011-02-13T09:09:00.000-05:002011-02-13T09:09:40.520-05:00

Typing in between sips of coffee. Night one was luck? A fluke? A freak accident? Night two...this was how I thought it would be. Tossing and turning all night. Crying. Fussing. Screaming. Wailing. Sad Wet Tears forming puddles in his perfect wittle ears. And me giving up and midway through just picking him up and holding him close and drifting off to sleep. But maybe it's teething? Maybe

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-40929889252468793162011-02-12T20:26:00.001-05:002011-02-12T20:28:08.121-05:00

That's right, folks. Night number two is about to begin. On the whole, I am happy to report that the first night of crib sleeping (with me on my mattress cuddled up to the crib) was much more successful than I anticipated. Truth. What will follow is just a boring play-by-play for those of you who could care less about sleep training coaching transitioning. I will include it for those of you

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-1409155570983958632011-02-11T20:36:00.000-05:002011-02-11T20:36:25.661-05:00

Tonight. Is the night. THE night. It's the night we picked to put an end to the bedsharing. I'm dreading the continuation of this night. I am not happy about this night. I, personally, am pretty happy with our bedsharing, co-sleeping, warm happy family bed. I sleep well enough. Gabriel sleeps well enough. My husband sleeps better than any of us. But still. We've chosen to make a change.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-16266716267192819242011-02-04T20:59:00.000-05:002011-02-04T20:59:59.067-05:00

I used to be a Trauma Nurse. There is a kind of silence mixed with adrenaline before a case comes in and I always found a strange peace in those moments. Standing outside the trauma bay scanning the sky for a helicopter, plastic gown and leaded apron wrapped over my scrubs, heart pounding inside my chest, ready for the steady state of organized chaos to begin. There is one case of which I am

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-59403246965297382272011-01-31T20:53:00.001-05:002011-01-31T21:05:18.369-05:00

It may come as a shock to you, but I'm a bit of a nerd. A bookworm. A reader. My parents always read to me. Books were, and still are, a guilty pleasure. Some of my earliest memories were of me, alone, sitting in my bedroom curled up with a big old Richard Scary book sounding out words. Bedtime was always preceded by at least one rendition of 'Goodnight Moon'. That being said, I have always

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-88708175741768975302011-01-30T13:45:00.000-05:002011-01-30T13:45:15.215-05:00

I woke up in the middle of the night with a warm feeling. But it wasn't a warm fuzzy feeling. It was the feeling of something warm slowly spreading up my arm and along my side. It was punctuated by a sudden cry from the small handsome fellow sleeping to my left. This, my friends, would be a co-sleeping bed sharing hazard, I suppose. Better to never run out of night time diapers. We were lucky

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-40357835607442595142011-01-24T21:14:00.001-05:002011-01-24T21:14:58.706-05:00

Today I chatted with a friend. Bleary eyed. Up all night with the pending arrival of tooth #6. White-knuckling my 4th cup of coffee. Hair unwashed for the third day in a row because, yeah, sometimes there's just that little time in the day. And she said it. "Sometimes I'm just not sure if I could handle having kids. It just seems so stressful." And I'm sure if you cornered any Mom on one of

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-69033998629719210012011-01-18T05:58:00.000-05:002011-01-18T05:58:39.190-05:00

How time flies...I have an 8 month old!

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-54602645333341668532011-01-16T18:58:00.000-05:002011-01-16T18:58:55.099-05:00

N...for nap time. And what's more, this post is being delivered to you LIVE from Gabriel's bedroom. Where he is napping. In his crib. As I sit on the floor next to his crib. Pumping. And blogging. This, my bloggy friends, is a small step for Gabriel, but a large step for Nap time. And about nap time. Well, obviously after he was just newly born into this big cold world, he was a stickler for

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-61438646076640237492011-01-14T22:45:00.001-05:002011-01-14T22:46:36.173-05:00

And there's nothing silent about sharing a house with an Italian man and an 8 month old baby. But it sure does feel that way. They say all roads lead to Rome, so Wednesday morning I left the house and braved the icy roads of the ATL with the In-Laws in tow. We didn't make it quite to Rome, but we did make it to the Atlanta Airport. And they did make it to Milan. Which is kind of like Rome, only

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-49816361728156605232011-01-11T18:38:00.000-05:002011-01-11T18:38:06.691-05:00

In case you haven't noticed...I'm wearing new clothes. Given my 'hell-hath-frozen-over-and-I'm-trapped-in-it' status, I used some of my 'free' time today to make a new header. Stop by and oooooh and aaaaaah and such. And please cross your fingers that I'll be able to make the trek through the ice-caked streets to the airport by tomorrow afternoon. In-Laws.Must.Make it. To. Airport. And

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-72291583302818143712011-01-10T15:32:00.001-05:002011-01-10T20:26:54.167-05:00

It snowed. In Georgia. Like, six inches, plus a layer of sleet, topped off by a layer of ice. Right now I sit at my kitchen table, looking out on to a blanket of white, a cup of hot chocolate beside me. This would all be picture perfect if I weren't listening to my Mother In Law snoring away 8 feet from me (she is in a makeshift bedroom in our dining room.) And my Brother-In-Law watching the

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-67497860789140428592011-01-08T21:35:00.000-05:002011-01-08T21:35:21.887-05:00

The In-Laws have made a full invasion. My Mother-In-Law has been here for 3 1/2 weeks. My Brother-In-Law arrived Thursday afternoon. Thursday I left work to pick up the BIL at the airport. I promptly escorted myself to the airport bar, sat myself between 2 good looking men in fatigues, and ordered one Cosmo....which was quickly followed by a second Cosmo. (What? I was gonna have to wait another

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-29148592142527215622011-01-07T06:17:00.000-05:002011-01-07T06:17:56.782-05:00

Ok peeps...this is truly one of my favorite weeks EVAH! And luckily I heard about it before it was completely over! It's Blog Delurking Week 2011! What does that mean? Well, that pretty much means that if you are a regular reader who possibly maybe just a little bit DOESN'T comment and kind of sort of lurks around in the background...it's YOUR chance to speak up!!! Well, by speak up I just

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com90tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-12792001207201925002011-01-05T08:34:00.000-05:002011-01-05T08:34:37.915-05:00

So who else spends the first month of the New Year writing the old year on every document known to man? Note to Self: If you want a post to actually show up on your blog it would behoove you to publish it in the current year. Er, I mean, don't publish a post for 'January 4th, 2010'  and hope that it will actually show up on your front page for people to read. Since the year is, you know, 2011

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-49659177324653262802011-01-04T21:21:00.000-05:002011-01-04T21:21:33.803-05:00

IN the following post I will pretty much beg forgiveness for co-sleeping, condemn co-sleeping, and ruthlessly defend co-sleeping all at once. I have mixed feelings about it. Kind of like breastfeeding. I'm a pretty dynamic person all 'loving-things-and-hating-things' at the same time. Confession Time. I'm sleeping with another man. Two men actually. Two men and a dog. But the dog is on the

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com51tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-72832239774947137422011-01-03T20:43:00.000-05:002011-01-03T20:43:44.320-05:00

*Happy Dance* What if I told you that for the last 3 months, Gabriel hasn't slept, even ONCE, in his own crib in either of his cribs? What if I told you ALL of his naps were on my own, or my husband's, chest? What if I told you we co-slept EVERY night? What if I told you that I went to bed when he went to bed, even if it was 7:30pm? What if I told you, that some of those nights were spent,

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-27673203068932724392011-01-02T20:00:00.000-05:002011-01-02T20:10:30.235-05:00

"OFF WITH HER ....NIPPLE!"That's what I imagine him saying, lately.Ouch, guys. Just ouch.I'm not sure where that other breastfeeding post left off...but I'm pretty sure it was all 'hang in there, it gets better' and all that jazz.And at 7.5 months we're still hanging in there with the working/pumping/breastfeeding thing. And at 24.5 pounds (and 30 inches), this kid is still pretty much

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-60276630288854168362011-01-01T09:04:00.002-05:002011-01-01T09:16:22.288-05:00

2011,Welcome. And Thank You, 2010. This will be the first year in a long time there will no NO baby-making madness in my mind. I will not be worried and or otherwise obsessed with my fertile state, my infertile state, my period, my reproductive organs, my uterus, my ovaries, my hormones, etc, etc, ad nauseum.This is the first year I will be totally free from that which consumed my life for the

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-72873668996186002922010-12-28T16:54:00.002-05:002010-12-28T17:21:46.862-05:00

Gabriel has a nasty case of bronchiolitis. And and ear infection. Most likely from our Holiday Family Germ-Togethers. But probably also from not covering him up from head to toe in eight layers of wool plus a plastic bubble before leaving the house this week. (But only if you ask my MIL).We went to the doctor on Sunday because he was wheezing but got sent home because it was 'just a cold'. And

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-32382661879080347972010-12-19T20:09:00.004-05:002010-12-19T20:17:00.427-05:00

If the baby is actively kicking the wall, chances are it isn't hurting him badly enough to break his leg. That said, it is highly likely I don't require any type of warning regarding said kicking. It is highly likely that if he were kicking the wall hard enough to do bodily damage, he would stop.If the baby is sitting up near the fireplace, and I am 6 inches away from him, and have a pillow

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-20509805747330154512010-12-10T20:28:00.002-05:002010-12-10T20:44:04.857-05:00

Things I can tell you with one hand:I still have 3 half-written posts about my post-baby challenges.They haven't been posted because the bedtime thing hasn't quite panned out as neatly as I thought it would.My Mother-In-Law arrives from Italy on Sunday. She's staying with us for a month. I cannot wait until she sees this little guy for the first time.I started my period back this week. Which

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-30637316636673423162010-12-04T20:01:00.000-05:002010-12-05T08:09:20.712-05:00

And the Boob was with Mom; And the Boob was Mom;And Gabriel ate it;And it was good....and no, I'm not religious. But the Boob is Omnipotent in this house. And we will honor each as such.And truthfully, I had it so much better than some. I've got lots of milk and he's gained lots of weight...so something is working no matter what bumps we hit along the way.But really. It all started out perfectly.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-55500448261879881652010-11-30T20:26:00.004-05:002010-11-30T21:26:52.780-05:00

There was a woman who had a baby. The baby cried. A lot. The baby lived on the boob during the day and would only sleep at night if rocking in the swing next to the bed. Even then the baby only slept in 2 hour increments. The baby would not nap in a crib. The baby would only sleep with the mother. The baby kept the mother quite sleep deprived for days on end.When the baby was 8 months old, the

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-5266643416309361512010-11-28T20:36:00.000-05:002010-11-28T20:43:31.040-05:00

The Truth?.I am normal. And. This has not been easy for me..I'm in love with the baby. I think I'm a good parent..But the last six months have hard. Really hard. Like no one could have told me how hard. And every baby is different. And I think mine is hard. Wonderful and perfect, but hard. I think 'high needs' is the PC term for that now. But it just means hard. As in the 'not easy' kind of hard

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-7169112425359991812010-11-25T08:17:00.006-05:002010-11-25T08:23:02.235-05:00

6 Months Old.23lbs, 8oz.29 1/4 inches.Thankful?Immensely. Hugely. Greatly. Forever Thankful.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-87168073518599463122010-11-18T02:05:00.004-05:002010-11-18T02:40:07.448-05:00

Yesterday was my birthday. .Today is Gabriel's 1/2 Birthday. .It's 2am. I'm awake. I haven't slept more than a few hours in the last 3 days thanks to the pending arrival of teeth numbers 3 and 4. I guess it's fitting given the state of affairs I was in 6 months ago today, you know, with the whole lack of sleep and up at 2am bit. It's an anniversary of sorts. .And I have to talk about spoiling.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-92102286662576581102010-11-11T06:09:00.003-05:002010-11-11T06:16:53.361-05:00

Though this monkey still definitely prefers boobs to bananas....and Gabriel will have you know that he wore this costume for all of 5 minutes (just long enough to take a few pictures), and then we promptly removed it because we thought trick-or-treating with a 5 1/2 month old might put us in the 'adults stealing candy' category... We then moved on to bath time, boob time, bed time while large

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-51245554304499714312010-10-31T07:51:00.004-04:002010-10-31T08:10:42.243-04:00

Halloween has long been my favorite holiday. The last few years it has pretty much sucked, as I looked out the window at families walking the streets all dressed up in cuteness and superhero vampire witchy fabulousness and imagined that I might never get to participate in the shenanigans with an actual child. .So today I'm pretty excited. And while this year I had absolutely zero time to

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-23591236949891509012010-10-15T06:16:00.003-04:002010-10-16T08:47:04.244-04:00

I'm just sayin'.All is well. Gabriel will be 5 months old this week and we are celebrating by purchasing two cases of SIZE FOUR diapers. Yes. it's true. My almost-five-month old wears the same size diapers as his two and half year old cousin.What can I say? I'm not makin' skim over here. But truthfully, he's well-proportioned at least. Just big. Big. Heavy. Making me feel like an old lady when I

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-33119087838709214802010-10-03T08:38:00.004-04:002010-10-03T09:18:55.262-04:00

1. Must come to an end.2. Stop being good things at some point.3. Eventually write this blog post when they can't decide what to do.Occasionally, on a weekend morning, I get about an hour of 'free time' to update this blog. I feel incredibly frustrated because there are so many things I want to write down, to record, to get out there...questions I want to ask, respond to...and well, just lots of

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-76006878613692795082010-09-18T08:56:00.005-04:002010-09-18T09:38:29.105-04:00

QuickiesAnd no, not that kind of quickie...because really? The S to the E to the X is not a' happenin' here. I'm just sayin'. What is happenin' here? Sleep - Nooooooot! But seriously. I have relaxed a bit on the 'gotta get him to bed' business and am just starting to rock him when he is tired. Like, really tired. All week he went to sleep with only about 1-2 or maaaaaybe 5 minutes of protest

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-65753761314373365392010-09-12T08:14:00.003-04:002010-09-12T09:12:02.049-04:00

Dear Internet Sleep Experts,It started out with 4 weeks of the worst kind of stick-toothpicks-in-my-eyes sleep deprivation that anyone could possibly imagine. The kid is not a fan of sleep. Never has been. In those days I simply attached my butt-ocks to the couch and lived with it. It was all good. It worked.Around 6 weeks a magical thing happened. He figured out that nighttime was for sleeping

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-66908267242281197372010-09-06T12:41:00.004-04:002010-09-06T12:57:15.664-04:00

Today...You woke up more than usual at night.You cried even after your naps.Your naps, speaking of them, were shorter than usual.You were fussy in the stroller when we went for a walk.You spit up down my cleavage.You drooled on my shirt.You wouldn't let me take a shower, do the laundry, or even cook lunch.And still, this day, I wouldn't trade for any other. I have bad days sometimes too.I love

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-33075045694860849882010-09-05T11:41:00.004-04:002010-09-05T11:57:27.786-04:00

Guess where this super handsome little man is going to be on September 25th, 2010... That's right! We'll be at the 'Resolve: Walk of Hope' in Atlanta. I'm super excited about this chance to get together with some of my IF sisters and support Resolve at the same time. My whole family is going (even the dog) and we will be walking with our team, Plan C. Want to participate? Here are just a few

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-74921057645918298002010-09-01T15:07:00.004-04:002010-09-03T22:14:36.909-04:00

What does the title of this post mean?A) That my workplace is about as pleasurable as a yeast infectionB) That Rudolph the Red-Nosed-Reindeer would be envious of my bright red thrushy nipplesC) That the Amoxicillin-ear-infection-cure gave Gabriel thrush (from entrance to exit)Hooray! You are correct. No matter what you guessed, you are right. The answer is A, B, and C. So now I'm just chugging

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-23443230448055247762010-08-26T05:26:00.006-04:002010-08-29T08:54:46.149-04:00

This new life (plus baby) is exactly what I wanted. Full. Overflowingly full. Exploding with fullness. And while I used to complain (while still having time to surf the webernets and eat a meal in greater than 5 minutes) that there wasn't enough time to get things done. There now is truly not enough time to get things done. At all. And I love it, but I also am obviously slacking in all social

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-65057459589253663812010-08-15T08:23:00.005-04:002010-08-21T08:26:37.278-04:00

...Only better.One of the hardest things about my returning to work adventure has been the mornings. I live pretty far away from my place of business, and if you know anything about traffic in the ATL, you know I have to leave the house by the butt crack of dawn to make it to the hospital in any acceptable amount of time.Waking up a sleeping angel to change/feed/dress/load into the car for

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-67587279336473017362010-08-07T13:36:00.004-04:002010-08-07T14:16:09.828-04:00

We did it! We survived the first two days back at work! Completely unscathed!Dull report of first days back will follow:The mornings....were rough. No, I shouldn't say rough. It went better than I expected. Because I expected the 5am alarm would wake Gabriel up and I would spend the next hour showering, getting ready, drinking coffee, checking e-mails whilst he screamed in the background. Instead

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-16246340422457811652010-08-03T08:31:00.004-04:002010-08-03T08:44:03.002-04:00

As you can see, Gabriel's first practice day with Aunt Katie was a raging success. Yesterday at 6:30am we loaded up the car and drove over for a dry run of "Return to Work" day. It went well, and I'm glad we're doing some half days this week. It made me feel better anyway. He took his bottles well. He took his naps well. And I got to go shopping. Shopping, like for real clothes. Like, for the

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-64962950256825457082010-07-31T11:59:00.009-04:002010-08-01T14:10:56.847-04:00

Honestly speaking, I have always been hard on working moms. No, I have always been brutal on working moms. Not brutal in the 'how can you go back to work and leave your child with someone else' sense, but brutal in the way of 'you chose to come to work so shut up about your child and stop calling out sick to stay home with your child and no I will not cover you so you can pump milk for the

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-76400104629075227762010-07-30T14:11:00.002-04:002010-07-30T14:24:24.657-04:00

For the first 10 weeks of his life Gabriel napped in one place and one place only...Mama's arms. It's not that I set out to have a child that refused to sleep in a swing, a crib, or a bassinet. But at a certain point you just do what you have to do to survive the day, and early on I knew that meant taking a time out in the rocking chair, or carting the baby around in a carrier or wrap during

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-70933277074441387042010-07-28T21:55:00.004-04:002010-07-28T22:17:43.585-04:00

Today Gabriel and I trekked it on down to uptown ATL to meet up with Jen and Elizabeth. If you read her post you'll know that she was right about every single thing. Especially the part where Gabriel screamed all the way home and I nearly cried because I felt like a terrible mother for safely banishing my child to the lonely back seat in his 500lb giant infant carrier.I mean, I only cry when he

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-83282989299802474992010-07-26T16:03:00.004-04:002010-07-26T16:20:44.552-04:00

How it is with my husband.....When: The Other Morning After Waking UpWhere: The BedWhat: The Diaper Conversation.Him: "Is it possible that Gabriel smells bad?"Me: "Um. Yes, it is possible. Especially since he's been in that diaper since last night."Him: "Yeah, because he kind of smells like an old man."Me: "No, he smells like pee."Him: "Right, he smells like an old man..."........................

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-43654876248084065872010-07-23T21:41:00.000-04:002010-07-23T21:41:00.502-04:00

How to Cure Male Factor Infertility According to my Midwife.At my 8 week follow up, which was really done at 9 weeks, and wouldn't have been done at all except that I needed clearance to return to work:Midwife: "Are you sure you don't want any birth control?"Me: "No, we did IVF to get pregnant. If we are able to get pregnant again by having sex and not paying $20,000 I will be jumping for joy.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-65886068789128926902010-07-22T22:29:00.000-04:002010-07-22T22:29:00.356-04:00

Enough of that labor crap. Talking about it is stressing me out. Let's deal with it by eating. Pasta. Fatty, delicious, fabulous pasta. But seriously. Try this. Too good and too easy not to share.(*Warning*) You are totally not supposed to wear a baby while cooking. I promise I got my husband to do all the dangerous stuff. I did not burn my child's bum.Baked Rigatoni in a Bechamel

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-72914864541192393672010-07-20T11:58:00.007-04:002010-07-21T23:30:21.167-04:00

This will be the last long labor-esque post on this blog. This will probably be a statement of relief for those of you who may be thinking, 'wah wah wah, get over it you natural-birth granola freak, oh your birth was so traumatic, blah blah blah'. Yes, it is what is is (or was what it was) and I am decidedly in love with my munchkin (even if he entered this world in between two fat rolls instead

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-48405500763360981042010-07-19T09:00:00.000-04:002010-07-19T09:12:11.430-04:00

We get this question all the time..."Are you going to teach him Italian?" It's almost a funny question if you think about it. I mean, we're going to 'teach' him Italian like we're going to 'teach' him English.We don't really set out to 'teach' our children the languages we speak, really. We just talk to them. We read to them. We sing to them. And then, months later, we hear our words echoed back

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-30444766046324934162010-07-10T17:11:00.009-04:002010-07-11T15:20:42.375-04:00

I confess. .My baby's body scarcely touches a mattress, swing, baby-chair, high-chair or floor during daylight hours. He takes his naps with his head resting gently on my chest, under my chin, or in the crook of my arm. He does the laundry with me. He washes the dishes with me. He cooks dinner with me. He walks the dog with me. .I resemble a kangaroo more than a human. .I am a baby-wearer. And I

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-42300218401972257362010-07-08T12:18:00.005-04:002010-07-08T12:31:18.138-04:00

Me: changing diaperHusband: "Don't put it on too tight! His balls could get too hot."Me: *sigh*Diapers...the other whitie-tightie.In other male-factor news, the criteria for 'normal' have been readjusted. See where you now fit in according to the new WHO standard reference values for semen here.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-25610657104051199302010-07-07T09:00:00.010-04:002010-07-07T09:25:27.481-04:00

How do you know you have excelled by leaps and bounds at breastfeeding? Well, when you're able to breastfeed your child while on a horse and carriage ride around Historic Charleston, of course! .Sorry I haven't posted in awhile. Gabriel and I were getting our vacation on in Edisto Beach, South Carolina with my entire family (minus the hubs who had to stay home and work). Or...as he put it, "

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com63tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-22663944096239670542010-06-25T18:41:00.003-04:002010-06-25T18:48:32.417-04:00

Yes. 5 weeks old. And rolling over. He'll be starting college in the Fall. (*sigh*)Also, something is wrong with the fact that today I already had to clean out his drawer and pack away a bunch of stuff he can't fit in anymore (and some things that he never fit in). Wow. I know they say 'they grow up fast', but someone hit the fast-forward button on this child. Warning: Please place this video on

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-17547555303144695722010-06-23T14:36:00.008-04:002010-06-23T15:02:21.171-04:00

There is surprisingly limited hands free time these days..We've made it one month. We've actually made it five weeks and one day...but who's counting? Okay. I'm counting. And speaking of counting, my little giant had his one month appointment on Monday and he's tipping the scales at....12 pounds and 12 ounces. .He's also grown 1/2" and is now 23 1/2 inches long. Yes. That was at a hair shy of his

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-88495369714396778982010-06-15T09:47:00.002-04:002010-06-15T09:54:54.768-04:00

But you can never leave?So? I had a baby. And I've been congratulated on 'leaving' infertility behind and on 'no longer' being an infertile. I get these statements, I really do. But do we ever really 'leave'?Honestly, I used to get really ticked off at people with babes in arms who said, "but I'll always be infertile!" because, yes, it is totally different to be 'infertile' while holding a

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-53362452550667349222010-06-12T12:29:00.003-04:002010-06-12T12:55:15.815-04:00

Or...What Happens When You Leave Your Husband in Charge at 4am While You Take a NapThe Scene:*4am: Baby is wearing yellow duckie gown-like-onesie. Baby wakes up. Nurses. Burps. Is Wide Awake. Husband offers to take baby in other room until baby falls asleep. Baby begins screaming. And crying. And screaming. Mother cries and feels guilty but rationalizes that baby is full and husband is giving

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com70tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-87045964644406285862010-06-09T15:30:00.000-04:002010-06-09T15:39:56.697-04:00

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-37397702843579591342010-06-08T22:12:00.002-04:002010-06-08T22:39:46.708-04:00

Three weeks in*GASP*That was me coming up for air...not me gasping at the shock of it all. Okay, gasping at the shock of it all as well.I am still amazed that this perfect little creature is mine. Except at 3am when he's screaming at the top of his lungs and I can't do anything to calm him down so I cry because I feel like the failure of all mothers...then I believe he's mine. Why? Because my

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-15609834424615374392010-06-02T11:51:00.008-04:002010-06-02T12:41:26.237-04:00

My sister came over two days ago to take a few pictures of my little angel. All I can say is no matter if they needed a little help, the perfect sperm made it to the perfect egg...no doubt about it.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com118tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-65028346920504065872010-05-29T13:05:00.007-04:002010-05-30T11:15:08.230-04:00

Ok ummmm. Where did we leave off. Oh that's right. The low-dose Pitocin was started to 'help things along...'And not shockingly, with the addition of Pitocin, the contractions grew in strength...except now I was tethered to the bed with IVs and fetal monitors. Still, I'll be honest, I didn't want to move an inch in any case. I was told I could still get up and stand on the side of the bed or get

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com66tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-18023246981077007922010-05-28T09:34:00.006-04:002010-05-28T13:34:12.985-04:00

Sunday the 16th begins...Let's see now, where did we leave off?Oh yeah. It sucked. I cried. But I was partially relieved, and even remember thinking, 'saved by the blood pressure', because at least I wasn't being sent immediately home. I would have a few hours worth of waiting on bloodwork to magically dilate to 8cm and get in the birthing tub.Sha. Right.But then my midwife offered, no, advised,

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-54114415967997245552010-05-27T20:37:00.002-04:002010-05-27T20:40:58.811-04:00

News Flash:(news flash jingle playing)We interrupt this regularly scheduled birth story to let you know that at 2am this morning Murgdan began having chills and had a fever of 101.5. She got to take a fun trip down to the Emergency Department to for IV fluids and antibiotics and is suspected to have a surgical site infection.My labor...it's the gift that keeps on giving and giving and giving.Will

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-68555869395963921492010-05-26T11:05:00.007-04:002010-05-26T15:44:00.403-04:00

The Birth Story....it's just a story to tell. It's my story to tell. At least that's what they kept telling me throughout the ordeal. I mean, when I ask, "Is this normal?" and "What's happening to me?" or "Why is this happening?"....and everyone around me keeps responding with, "This is your story...." Well, I spent half my labor angry that I was getting an answer like that, since I would have

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-16940334590580853172010-05-24T16:47:00.007-04:002010-05-24T18:10:27.190-04:00

No birth story yet. Still can't quite gulp it all down without bursting into tears...not at the loss of the whole natural water birth thing, not even the loss of a vaginal birth. It's just the memories of the nightmare, fear, and lonliness that was the never-ending labor, ick, see, still can't stomach it. Vomit. Regret. Saving that story for another day.Yes, there was a big pot of gold at the end

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com73tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-52385140257008222832010-05-20T17:19:00.003-04:002010-05-20T17:33:45.699-04:00

Sorry it took me so long. I have a few good excuses. Numero uno being that my husband told me this hospital didn't have Wifi...but what he meant was, he wouldn't use it because it isn't 'secure' enough. Whatevah.My other excuses for what took so long.Labor.Began Friday night...gave birth Tuesday morning. Not joking. Gave in to epidural as I needed some rest (rest? what? after 3 nights without

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com237tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-31431529464712873852010-05-15T17:19:00.003-04:002010-05-15T17:22:59.547-04:00

No baby yet.Still at home. Contractions hung in there at 7 minutes for awhile...then I got a little break, which I took full advantage of and took a little nap in there somewhere (seeing as how I was up all night).Things are maybe picking back up again...5pm. Still at home.And WOW.Wow.This is not one of those 'fast' labors, yo.

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com60tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-51874279427408570272010-05-15T04:06:00.002-04:002010-05-15T04:25:16.227-04:00

40w6d....4amWent for that walk in the park yesterday...and the contractions (rinky-dink) got a little less rinky-dink, but still 30 minutes apart.Then they got closer together.And way less rinky-dink.And then I tried to go to bed, because that's what you're supposed to do in these situations (so they say)...but really.*pause for contractionnnnnnnnnn*I got a bit of a nap...but now contractions are

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com57tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6768021879194977080.post-10839211190101431812010-05-14T17:01:00.002-04:002010-05-14T17:07:57.577-04:00

40w5dI know, you would rather have seen a picture of him on the outside. But he isn't here yet.But this picture is from 40w2d...though I don't think much has changed. Including the outfit. Because really, all my maternity clothes were fit for winter...and I pretty much live in pajamas at this point.State of the Uterus? Who knows? Doodley-hoo contractions all day, every 20-30 minutes or so...but

'Murgdan'http://www.blogger.com/profile/00740095971968567222noreply@blogger.com23