And, Here We Go. Zibell Family Update

Called our doctor yesterday because I was not feeling the baby move as much. I diligently do my daily kick counts so she wasn't about to get anything past me! Because I was in Schuamburg at work, he sent me to Labor/Delivery at Swedes since his office would be closed by the time I got back.

Got to the hospital thinking that they would monitor the baby for a bit and then send us home. I had my normal Thursd morning appt with him anyways the next day..but I wanted peace of mind and had an intuition that something was off. So glad I listened to my body and we went to Swedes!

Because....I was having labor contractions 2-4 minutes apart! YIKES. 33 weeks and contracting? Having never had late term contractions, I just assumed because I was so early, that I was just having lots of Braxton Hicks for the last few days. I hardly mentioned it when they asked me why I came in...had NO CLUE. So, they hooked me up to an IV, checked my cervix (which is already thinned and further than what a 33 week cervix should look like...he felt her head!!! She has already dropped!), gave me a steroid shot for the baby and kept me overnight.

They did send me home today...my contractions are about 6 minutes apart now...but my cervix only changed minimally overnight so he didn't think that I needed to stay.

I am now officially on strict bedrest! No dishes, laundry, cleaning, stairs or cooking for me! Any other time I would be ecstatic...but I am NESTING! And all I want to do is clean my house. So, if you like to vaccuum...maybe you should call me? :)

I'm sure you know this, but contractions don't just stop without medication or help..and it really just holds them off for a bit....because baby girl is still doing so well and so far, no blood clots...they do not want her out this early. They were only going to take her soon if my womb was starting to go 'kapoot' on her. And its not...so, they will do whatever they can to keep me from having her.

That being said... we will definitely have an early bird because these contractions and my lady parts are def trying to get her outta here. I get checked again on Monday with my Maternal Fetal Medicine Doctor and we will see where we are there!

Scott and I are so thankful that she is healthy. We never even thought for a second that with all of the risks of my pregnancy, that I would go into pre-term labor?!?! We expected either they take her via emergency c-section early because she was in stress or they would induce me prior to my due date so I could try and have her naturally without posing a danger to her staying in for so long.

Crazy. But, like I said. We are so thankful for her, our gift. And whatever route is the safest for her, we will take.

If you pray, please pray for her sustained health. God knew this before anyone else and I believe that He really has put her on the growth fast track...she is so big already! But, with any preemie, there can be complications, so we are trusting and praying for a healthy baby from beginning to end! And pray for my body....no blood clots after her birth(which is my point of highest risk) and sustained health for my champ of a kidney!

Ok, this went WAY longer than I thought. I'm going back to bed :) Sleeping on a 3 tier labor and delivery bed with cords attached all over your body does not provide an environment for a good night sleep! Thank you all for your support, love and prayers....I can't wait for you all to meet our miracle!!!

Today is Tuesday, I promise.

CONFESSION TIME!

So, my brain has been working away trying to come up with a good confession. And here is the tough part. I love to embarrass myself. Well, I just love it all the way around when people get embarrassed. So, normally, if I have a confession that I think will make people laugh, I tell it immediately.

So, I have to really dig here to think of things that I have not already exposed about myself.

And once I started digging, the things that I haven't exposed are the things that I don't want to expose. Like, how much I currently weigh. Or the number of times I have to take a picture of myself before one actually turns out normal. These are things that I am purposefully keeping between me and me.

But, I figure if I keep typing mindlessly and as fast as I can, something will just come out. Ok, got it.

Sometimes, I pretend to be deaf in order to avoid talking to people. Mainly, this happens when I get hit on while pumping gas at the gas station. I mean, who wants to answer the following question, "Hey! Does your baby have a daddy?" (YES, I was asked this question outside of my dr office a few weeks ago). So, instead of giving them a smart remark or glaring at them...I look in their direction...and do some sort of hand signal that I don't even understand but am pretty sure that they won't either.

Then, if it is the summer, I get into my car and quickly turn off the radio...because, well, that wouldn't make much sense.

Tuesday's Confessional.

19 Drafts.

I write on here a whole heck of a lot more than what it may seem to you. I just get bored mid-writing and decide to go back to whatever I was doing before...you know, something more important like taking my socks off. or attempting to cross my legs without losing my balance. yes. I am a worldchanger.

I have always toyed with the idea of creating a secret blog. One that is only for women. Where we can talk about all things ladylike without the boys in our lives finding out the real truth about us. And it would be password protected. And it would be awesome. For instance, I have questions. And you woman have some answers. And I may just never hear them because I can't ask how you all handle a booby itch in public on this post. And, well, now that I am pregnant...there are certain things that I can no longer take part in...or even see for that matter... and I just want to KNOW.

But, public post. No password protection.

So, I will stick to gender neutral topics. Like recipes and crafts and love. You know, the usual.

I have decided to start a Tuesday's Confessional. I am going to start telling you all (and by you, I mean my 8 trusty followers...thank you momS, Calley, Hannah, Elissa, Becca, Leah and Scott) my secrets and...well, confessions.

Confession #1 - I am incredibly embarrassed and aware of the fact that I breathe VERY loudly when I sleep. I swear on my mother's bean burritos that I have a deviated septum. I can't get a full breath in EVER through my nose...forcing me to have to breathe very intently in order to sleep at night and not wake up with a sore throat from breathing through my mouth.

But, here is my confession. Sometimes, when I know that Scott is still awake in bed...I roll away from him and take my fingers and hold open my nostrils so I can actually breathe without sounding like a rushing wave is coursing through my nose. And I do this until I think he is asleep...

Or at least until he stops asking me if I still have any breathe right strips left...

I Want The Badge. Engraved. And BIG. To Hang on my Front Door.

I have ALWAYS said that I do not need nor want the badge of birthing a child with no medication. It was just something I took no interest in. I mean, thousands of babies are born everyday while the mother is on some sort of pain medication and they are fine. So, why would I PURPOSEFULLY CHOOSE to put myself through so much pain if I had the choice not to.

Before I move on, let me take you back a few years. May of 2008 to be exact. Scott and I were in Mexico on a kayaking excursion. This was supposed to be a relaxing trip of leisure. Where we, along with about 10 other couples, would follow the guide to specific spots, stop and listen to him talk to us about all of the exciting things in the water.

What ACTUALLY happened?

The only thing I thought about was beating everyone to the guide. Sizing up all the couples on their paddling expertise all the while yelling at Scott to stop lollygagging and looking around and get to the front of the line!! It was awful. Scott wanted to take in our time together and get into a rhythm of paddling while I just wanted to GET THERE. and Win. There is NO TIME for enjoying ourselves here buddy.

See, I want to win at everything. Taking the dogs outside the fastest. Get out of the car first. Staple some papers before someone gets a chance to even pick up their stapler. Pick out a woman at the grocery store with a really long list and fill my cart quicker.

You may think I am just rushing because I am in a hurry or like to be efficient.

No. I just want to beat you.

So, it is BEYOND me how I didn't even see this next one coming.

Enter baby class. The two hour talk of going through a natural childbirth.

It. Was. Awful.

But, instead of me listening and taking in all of the information with a steady head, I just looked around at the room. All of the soon to be mommies...who were all smiling and nodding nervously at this new information and occasionally staring at their partners with a look of fear...suddenly became my competition.

And I could just picture it... all of us lined up in a row on our hospital beds in our blue robes with our legs straddled to the stir-ups..the doctors are all ready to make the catch of a lifetime and we are all ready to go.

The whistle goes off and I jump to the lead! (Now, enter slow motion effects) My breathing is perfect...the nurses are oooh'ing and aaaaah'ing...Every so often, Scott is squirting some Gatorade into my mouth, feeding me hard-boiled eggs and twisting a cold rag of water on my forehead (don't worry, I am, of course, wearing a sweatband..so my ponytail stays perfectly coiffed)... everyone in the sidelines are cheering wildly as I bear down and make the final push! And as soon as the baby comes out, I have her diaper changed, her feeding done and am watching her take her first nap before the other moms have even gotten to 10 centimeters. Of course, people are still cheering while Scott shoots champagne into the sky while proclaiming, "The bravest woman in history!". Oh, and there is a lot of fist pumping.

Ok, so maybe it won't happen EXACTLY that way. My robe could be pink or green. And Scott could use Vitamin Water instead of Gatorade. But, you get my drift.

Bottom Line is. I now want to win. And I now want that badge.

Never thought this day would come. Also, never thought I could be so oblivious to my own pride that I didn't think this day would come.

Also, REALLY hoping that God doesn't decide that childbirth will be the time He humbles me and gives me a 12 lb baby who would like to take 78 hours to come out.

But, on the other hand... I would then not only be the bravest woman in the world, but I would have birthed a 12 pound baby and handled 78 hours of pushing with ease!

Yeah...I may be in trouble here.

On No You Did Not.

I am furious. So furious that I need a second to just let this one out.

I have a child who happens to have a birth mother and birth father who were born and live in Ethiopia. I have not met this child and have no idea if she is a she or he is a he. I have no idea when they get to come home to me and Scott. I have no idea if they will be healthy or sick. Little boned or Big boned. Perfect eyesight or in need of glasses. Tall or Short. Shy or Feisty.

I know just ONE THING. This is my child. And I am their mother.

So do not for one second think that Scott and I are adopting internationally because it sounds glamorous. Because we want to emulate a celebrity. Because we haven't carefully and for a LONG time prayed about and thought about all of the other adoption options out there. Bottom line is, we both know beyond a shadow of a doubt that baby Jane has a sibling in Ethiopia and it is our responsibility to bring them home.

A child is a child is a child is a child. A human life in another country is JUST AS PRECIOUS as a human life in my own country.

I just spent the last 15 minutes on the phone with what I thought was a Home Study agency in Illinois listening to a man tell me that I am neglecting my own backyard and "as much as everyone loves Angelina Jolie..it is the people who adopt from their own country who are the unsung heroes'.

Cue hair on the back of neck standing on end.

To which I replied, "Have you ever adopted?" To which he replied, "No, but I work for an agency". To which I replied..."That's nice. But if you have the guts to tell me that my child isn't as important as anyone else's because of their geographic location? Then I really hope you also have had the guts to follow through with your own strong convictions and do something yourself. Now, please forward me to your manager."

Listen. Tell me we are idiots for spending a whole lot of money to bring our child home. Tell me we are foolish for choosing to wait possibly years to meet our child.

But, do not for one second tell me that my baby does not also deserve love and a home and a family JUST because they were born far far away from here.

Like I said, I know ONE THING. Well, now I know two things. 1) I have a son or daughter who will be born in Ethiopia and who Scott and I will work and wait for as long as needed until we bring them home to us. And 2) I have discovered what it takes to make my blood officially boil.

Hurry Up and Wait. Or Hurry Up. Or Wait. I Mean, Either Or.

The question I get asked the most during this pregnancy...well, besides the daily question of how I so closely resemble Heidi Klum (it's my long legs)...is, "So, when are you actually going to have the baby?"


This is the great question I am sure all soon to be mom's wonder themselves...when is this baby really going to come? I mean, nobody really knows anyways. It would be like asking if Heidi Klum ever gets jealous of being compared to me all of the time...there is just no telling what she might say.


I have realized that having a high risk pregnancy means many things. 1) You will have a gazillion dr. appointments. Thankfully, this also means that we get to have a gazillion ultrasounds. 20 so far. CanNOT complain whatsoever about that one! And 2) You will be told about 14 different "birthing" options that you "may or may not" experience and that every step of the pregnancy is a "take it day by day" thing.


That last point can stress me out if I think about it enough and sometimes makes me want to start sucking my thumb again.


See, I have Factor V Leiden. A genetic blood disease/disorder that at its simplest, makes it very easy for my blood to clot. This can come in the form of a pulmonary embolism, stroke or clots in your legs. During pregnancy though, the placenta can clot (either a big one or lots of little ones) and this stops nutrients from getting to the baby, which can be, and in my case, has been, fatal.


So, whenever I get pregnant, I go on a daily shot of a blood thinner to help keep my body from clotting. This drug does not reach the placenta, however, so the protection is really only for me.


For most woman and their babies, you want that little one in your womb for as long as possible. For woman with Factor V, it is often a safer environment for them outside of the womb than inside because of all of the potential clotting, the high risk for preclampsia and the risk of stillbirth. So, there are not many babies who go full term.


Then there is this other thing. The whole, you have one kidney thing. This fact hasn't changed what I do during pregnancy or the medication that I take, but it gives us some answers to our miscarriages...while also giving the doctors more reason to poke and prod at me whenever they get the chance during this pregnancy to make sure my lone kidney is staying in good condition and that the heightened risk for preclampsia is caught early if it occurs.


Where does all of that leave me now? I am 29 weeks pregnant. So far, with a few minor glitches that arent even worth mentioning, I have had a really wonderful and as healthy as can be pregnancy! Little girl is growing right on target and so far, there have been no clots and my kidney's engine hasn't run out of steam. This is all seriously great news. News I wasn't really expecting.


I was told in the beginning that we could have her at 25 weeks. We are ONE MONTH past this milestone!

Our last milestone was 28 weeks...haven't gotten my bloodwork back, but I feel great so I can't imagine anything happening.


Starting next week, I have twice weekly tests and ultrasounds that basically check the stress level of the baby and my body. If there is any indication that things are changing or decreasing in any way....baby comes out.

So, pack your overnight bag. And wait. Or maybe hurry up and get to the hospital. Or go home and wait some more.


Thus begins the next 10 or so weeks of our lives. I am trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I could have an emergency c-section next week and begin my daily visits to the NIC-U for the next 2 months. But, I am also preparing to go nearly full-term, get induced, have a natural childbirth and meet my little one in two months.


And truthfully, I don't care how it happens. Or when it happens. I just pray that it does happen. I dont want to meet her so that I can get my body back or so I can be more comfortable when I sleep or stop peeing so much. Those are so ridiculously trivial to me. It is hard for me to grasp that this is actually happening. And because of that, I just want it to be over so I can hold her and know that she is safe. I want to know her face and hold her little feet and put her to my chest and watch her sleep. And, while she is still inside of me, there is that chance that my body could fail me again and harm her.


BUT. This is what I choose to spend a very small amount of time focusing on. Instead, I thank God for everyday we have. I check craigslist daily for strollers and baby furniture. I make Scott stop doing whatever he is doing every five minutes to watch the baby morph my tummy around.

And I hurry up, pack my bags and prepare. And then slow down, breathe and wait.

Did We Just Become Best Friends?

I may or may not have cried with my plumber last week. And by may or may not, I mean may. He saw Addie and proceeded to tell me about having to put his Golden Retriever down a few months ago.

I cried. He cried. It was the weirdest moment I have ever had with a complete stranger. And yet, when it was over, I kind of wanted to see if he wanted to adopt me...or be my honorary uncle...or just sit and watch Marley and Me with a tub of ice cream and some kleenex. Maybe go get a tattoo of our dogs on our arms.

Scott has always told me that our pups are going to live forever. I have a sinking feeling that he did not, in fact, buy me magic dogs. And one day, some unsuspecting insurance client will call me and I will hear their dogs barking in the background and the floodgates will open.

I have to move on or I might just call in sick to work and spend my day trying to fit my dogs and me in Addie's crate and making some kind of cuddle time memory. Maybe sing them a song while they tilt their heads and put their paws around my neck. I mean, go big or go home.

Knowing my dogs though, Reggie will get confused and pee on me and Addie will think its play time and swipe me in the eye with her enormous paws. Yep. that is exactly what would happen.

Cute memory. Gone.

But, I still have my moment with my plumber. Who I may or may not refer to as my new best friend. And by may or may not, I mean may.