Wednesday, April 22, 2009

One of Those Days

Ok, so normally my goal would be to reserve this blog for life's warm fuzzies such as Baby Choate and our random family happenings, but today it's going to serve as a pregnant woman's vent session. And before you judge, yes, I am extremely grateful for the incredible life I have and remember it everyday...just not right at this moment on this day:

12:30 a.m. - Awake; I blame the hormones
1:32 a.m. - Awake again
3:13 a.m. - You guessed it...awake
4:42 a.m. - You get the point
5:16 a.m. - Give up and actually wake
5:30 a.m. - Begin cleanning for the contractor (yippe! it's tiling day!)
6:40 a.m. - Try for breakfast and nausea sets in; hit DVR and none of my shoes recorded; see Ellie has consumed my fluffy pink slipper
7:15 a.m. - Start working; begin getting worked up from crazy, hormonal emails
7:30 a.m. - Two work "fires" pop up and I almost combust (note: this is not my normal reaction - I blame Little Choate; Ellie goes to daycare with the "good" collar on, which she will promptly ruin with fun swimming activities
9:00 a.m. - work, work, work and begin noting contractor has not yet arrived
10:00 a.m. - try for snack and still nauseous; have to resort to the Zofran
10:30 a.m. - leave message for contractor; more work drama
11:30 a.m. - try to wrestle up some food in kitchen; resort to Healthy Choice meal that won't even unfreeze with all the microwave power in the world
Noon: leave more scathing message on contractor's voicemail (no more chirpy voice)
1:40 p.m. - hop in car to go to Sonic to relieve stress (don't judge); have only 4 miles of gas left and decide yes, I can make it
1:41 p.m. - large spider on rearview mirror almost sends me catapulting into the police car next to me (by the way I had just avoided a complete stop at a red light)
1:42 p.m. - use cute pink wallet to try and smash spider and I'm on the cell phone
1:45 p.m. - arrive at gas station and realize my debit card is missing; given we did Dave Ramsey and don't even own a credit card...getting home could be a problem as pregnancy does not lend itself to flirting with creepy people for free gas
1:48 p.m. - scream into the sky and head to Sonic anyway; have to have cheddar bites so dig frantically through the car looking for loose change, carefully avoiding the rebirth of the missing large spider
1:49 p.m. - call Mike to tell him my sorry behind left the debit card at happy hour last night...on an outdoor table...with minimal waiter assistance...
1:52 p.m. - call Verizon 411 and get charged for it, but bright light! my card is safe at the restaurant and Mom is kind enough to fetch for me (xoxo)
1:53 p.m. - gas hits zero...pass the same cop and think to myself that surely he would help a pregnant woman in times of crisis...
1:57 p.m. - crazy enough, make it the wrong order at Sonic
2:00 p.m. - decide to take raging thoughts out on contractor's voicemail
2:01 p.m. - contractor answers and says "he must have forgotten to check his calendar that morning." really??? REALLY????? and you run a legitimate business, really???
2:02 p.m. - carefully share that I work and can't just be home and that I expect he arrive Friday and compensate for part of my day's pay as well as the daycare costs of sending Ellie
2:03 p.m. - (both sit in awkard silence)
2:05 p.m. - call to consult with girlfriend with new baby, who assures me that insanity and thinking others are just stupid is a normal part of pregnancy and that yes, someday it will go away.

At least there's that.

It's now only 2:38 p.m....who knows what the evening will bring? Cheers to a brighter night ahead! Oh, and if you see a big, black hairy spider...kill it.

Monday, April 20, 2009

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet!

Perched at my desk last Thursday, one leg tucked under the other (not a great preggo position by the way), I had the strangest sensation bubble up in my tummy. Ignoring it as a potential culprit to one of "life's little pains in the side," I went about the daily grind of putting out fires and responding to emails. Minutes later it reappeared, like the faintest of taps on my insides - almost if someone was gently running their fingers along your arm...the kind that evoke goosebumps and raise smiles. When it happened a third time, I grew excited and visited my favorite baby sites and sent Laney a text, only to have her excitedly spend the next ten minutes reviewing with me that yes, indeed, that was Baby Choate alerting me its alive and well and is a miracle to be!

With flushed cheeks and the widest of smiles, I called Mike to let him know our little angel was sending its message that its here and means business and is about to change our lives forever. Though I could hear him beaming through the phone, I know he longs for the week those punts get a little stronger so he too can share in the joy.

For now, it's our little secret. And a good one at that! Juicy, miraculous, incredible, amazing and for me, the hottest gossip around.

Now, on to researching coping methods for the times when the little guy/girl isn't swimming about and that irrational mommy fear settles in...


True it's the crooning of Elvis's voice you generally think of when "Heartbreak Hotel" hits the radio waves, but for us this week, it was the departure of the Vomhof neighbors that got our souls sinking into a mishmash of emotions. Still in denial, we watched the UHaul makes its way up to their freshly wreathed door, like a one-eyed monster that was about to steal all their stuff and whisk them away to Prairie Village, the place where now 98 percent of all of our friends who are family live.

As the brown-colored boxes were whisked in one-by-one, I felt like doing a Grinch move and putting a stop to all the madness. All the Whos in Who-ville looked thrilled about their new adventure ahead - heck, Mike was even helping with the big stuff! But alas, I sat perched with a shrinking heart thinking of all the things I would selfishly miss: seeing Leah taking care of herself by running rain or shine, the bounce of the basketball while Arlan played with the kids, Sydney trotting down the street in a tutu on a cell phone and the boys rigging skateboard ramps on the drive. Then there are those moments one never forgets, like running the first ultrasound over for a set of best friends to share, swapping syrup and eggs when life made it too hard to get to the store and spending the evening talking at the kitchen table as the snow fell silently around you. It's the guys nights filled with beers, the casual drive-bys for no reason at all and the familiarity and love of two people you care immeasurably for, living right next door. There is nothing quite like it.

As the tears roll down my face just blogging about this, I have to wonder: is it because it is our ultimate dream to move back to PV that drives the sadness or is it the regret of moving into this home that's never yet felt like a home? Is it fear of friendships losing intimacy with just a few more miles of distance? And then I know...

It's that the Vomhofs are just so freakin' cool - and we love them with whole hearts. We are amazed to watch their dreams unfold and know they deserve nothing but the best of memories that are still to come. And with each of these memories we will still stand strong, in love, friendship and support as the years tick by. Congratulations on the amazing house, friends - we can't wait to watch you make it a home!

How to Assess if You Watch Too Much CSI...

Enjoying one of spring's most beautiful days, Mike and I strolled the Plaza letting the sun hit our souls and daydreaming about all that is to come with baby-to-be. As we rounded the corner near Anthropologie, we are hit with the whirring sounds of helicopter wings above and are startled by its closeness as it hovers near the beautiful store front. Instantly, we both get in "CSI mode" and begin contemplating all the gruesome discoveries we could so gleefully find on the next block. Mumbling about purple fibers and trying to interpret the body language of those surrounding us, we go into full Horatio stance:

Megan: (dips her sunglasses for effect)
Mike: (stares at me out of his peripheral vision - assessing if this is a case we should follow)
Megan: (senses the go aheadedness of the stare and says - "we should follow it right?"
Mike: "You want to?"
Megan: "Duh!"
Both: (walk shockingly fast - particularly for a pregnant woman, who is also clutching her belly for the covert op)
Megan: (passes a set of cops who are feverishly chatting - catches the phrase 690...)
Megan: (in a hissing whisper to Mike) - "690!!!! What do you think that means?!"
Mike: "I don't know - probably something cool like a stabbing or robbery!"
Both: (now almost jogging at this point, rounding corner near dog bakery)
Both: (clutch each other and stare into the distance, assessing any crowds and of course trying to spot the assailant)
Both: (now looking odd and just out of place among the quiet shoppers at this point)
Both: (share an inquisitive stare)
Both: (notice the police are giggling - noting they are saying things like )- "they called a 690 for that?!"
Megan: "Mission denied for now. But we'll watch the news later."
Mike: "Bummer dude."
Megan: (situates sunglasses again...for effect)

Meanwhile, both parties are still searching Google for what 690 means...Horatio?

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Ellie = Not the Face of Innocence

I know, I know, she looks completely harmless and is the traditional "shoe-in" dog for those looking for a loyal companion, perfect with kids and easy to train. But let's review a few snapshots of reality, shall we? ("Aunt" Jennie - if you're reading this...none of this will come as a surprise):

Advocate of recycling, or book killer? (Note: this is one of those items I would grab in a fire - it's a scrapbook my girlfriends created for my bridal shower. Did I also mention she ate our house title, an heirloom bible and a doggie lullaby cd - issues much?)

Thrifty or a spender? Really, in this economy, she should be ashamed.

Other notable traits: chronic toe licker, particularly of those not interested in dogs; digging, but only in the wettest of muds; hair shedding (think one vacuum bag full for one room); mommy attachment issues; blowing bubbles in her water dish; swimming underneath the water; displaying her lady bits; finding boyfriends at daycare; laying on feet; rubbing like a cat; knocking down innocent bystanders with her "love"; her wariness of anyone under 5'1; entitlement to the bed; always holding the leash in her mouth on walks; "HUFF" sounds to get her point across and so much more!

Ok, so we may bitch about our bitch sometimes, but really...she is the best. We often comment on how we'll never find someone who will unconditionally love us the way she does. Muddy paws or not, nothing can replace the gaze of love, the undying commitment to "her person," and the joy that only a 90-lb blonde can bring. We love you Miss Ellie.

Remembering "Aunt" Judy

Today and always, we honor "Aunt Judy," for her grace, thoughtfulness and joy she brought to the Choate family and anyone whose life she touched. She will remembered for always being there, her kind voice and the immeasurable impact she made on her family and community. For Mike and me, she will come alive in the big moments just like she did on our wedding day and at the holidays - with her soft-spoken words of wisdom and genuine care. Please say prayers for Mike's family, particularly his grandmother, during this challenging time. And may we always remember in these moments of sadness and in all the hours of happiness that life is truly short. Live each moment...just like Judy.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Dear Oprah...

We know your messy homes tour is over, but if you glance at just our study (how embarrassing!) I think you'd agree that it's time to send Peter and the clutter crew in their cute little VWs over to the Choates. Hard to believe Megan telecommutes from this location every Wednesday, huh? Not to mention the wife of the household currently has accumulated 16, yes, 16 loads of laundry in the past 30 days that haven't been touched. And yes, we are the same couple that is responsible for bringing a child into our messy world in just 5 short months. Yikes...can you help Team Choate (ok, mostly Megan) out? She'd make this plea much more convincing with her writing skills, but truth be told, it's going to take four hands on deck to tackle the dishes...

P.S.: Note from Megan: Thank you for having my dreamboat, Justin Timberlake on last month. It made another sickly day more than tolerable. And I'm looking forward to Kenny this week! Queueing the DVR...

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Bedazzling These Bad Boys

If you have spent any time with me at all, you've noticed my affinity for accessories (aka the only items that always fit). That's why I was a little less than thrilled about donning sea bands to help me battle my hyperemesis. I mean, you think that four prescriptions later you'd be cured of nausea, but alas, these little accupuncture wrist bands promise to save the day. Although they were mostly placebo for my hurting soul, I must say I got a little emotionally attached to them. That's where I came up with the idea that if I had to wear the damn things, they should at least be sparkly. Heck - baby binkies, spoons and sandals are all encrusted in Swarovski...why shouldn't a suffering pregnant woman's atrocious wrist bands have some frosting?! I propose silver or pink rhinestones for my spring line (gray) and classic diamonds for my winter line (black.) What do you think America? And hey...anyone know how to sew???

Hyperemesis is the Devil

Thank goodness for Ms. Helga Sandberg, who once said: "Remembering is a dream that comes in waves..." because I'm tossing my surfboard aside and taking a break to get inklings of my personality back, to taste the divinity that is food and be able to walk ten steps without getting sick in any place that's convenient. For the many of you who have been so thoughtful to travel this long, tough journey with me, you know I was diagnosed with hyperemesis in week six of my pregnancy. It's now week 17! Before we go into the awful details, let's look at the positive side, shall we?

1. It's a great weight loss plan. Though unhealthy and almost unbearable (wait - aren't all "diets?") you can end up pounds thinner than before you even tried for this baby thing. For example, I was nearly 20 under my regular weight, frequently hearing - "what's your secret?" Trust me...they don't want the real truth... that you haven't eaten in nearly four months and if you did, it certainly didn't go anywhere useful.

2. You obtain powder room GPS powers. Surely this can come in handy if you need to help an innocent bystander or on your next vacation to Florida. Plus, you can claim you now 100% know where "every restroom is in the midwest."

3. Your spouse could become an RN. With your significant other by your side, you have the luxury of visiting ERs, witnessing physical acts you never even wanted to or knew a body could do and catering to the patient's every need. This could be great if the economy and nursing shortage continues!

4. You can pale like Edward in "Twilight." Forget visiting the MAC counter to get the main character's sparkling, indefinable tone. Your body magically does it on it's own!

5. You come to terms with germs. Trust me, when you're hugging a million porcelain gods that aren't your own and notice you quit noticing...germs become a thing of the past.

In all seriousness, hyperemesis is a serious, debilitating, life-altering diagnosis that no woman should have to endure. I encourage anyone who knows anyone with these symptoms s to provide the kind of love, grace and support my friends and family have given to me...I could have never done it without them. Because of their phone calls, their words of wonder and their never-ending care, I am beginning to smile again, to see light and look forward to all that is to come. Special thanks to Mike, who has stood by every second not knowing how to "fix" it and feeling every ache and pain. And to Melissa, who sheds tears and says prayers recalling her difficult journey with the same. To Laney - who, even with a 4-month old strapped to her hip always manages to answer the calls and texts. And to Mom, who let me and the bucket come into her nice car more than once to hit the ER. And to all you others who I am so blessed to have in my are amazing.

I am thrilled to say at five months, I think I've put most of it behind and with that will go the tragic memories. Now it's full speed ahead on to a new wave that I hope to surf to contentment and excitement with all the miracles to come!