New Territory

Screaming babies, booger pickin' toddlers, awkward teens, and to-cool-for-school youths are everywhere.

They've always been there, but I didn't really notice them until now. Come November 5th, we're going to be responsible for another human. I see parents scrambling to keep it together. At fast food restaurants, I hear parents yell their kid's name (first, middle, and last) followed by some life threatening slur stating the consequences if they don't get out of the playground and eat their kids' meal. I think to myself, "oh $#!+, that's going to be us." Our future is starting to become more of a reality, especially every time Lauren comes barreling into the bathroom to up-chuck the delicious sausage/spinach/onion/mushroom egg scrambler (garnished with avocados, of course) I prepared 10 minutes prior. Was it the eggs, the almond milk, the fact that I can't cook, or the simple truth that Lauren is growing a miniature homo sapien in her body? I try to be sympathetic. I try to comfort her. I say thing like, "you can handle this; show that fetus who's boss!" Followed by, "hurry up, we're going to be late for work." I have to "encourage" her from a distance because I have the WORST gag reflex! I try to hold her hair back, but I usually wind up just shoving it in the back of her shirt before running out of the bathroom. She's excited to see how I react once I have to cleanup my first diaper blowout. 

To help me prepare for what's to come in November, Lauren has been trying to educate me on childbirth. "I learned everything I need to know from my time at Old Hatchie Vet Clinic," doesn't satisfy her. Apparently, a set of chains, a fence post, and a come-along will not be involved. Lauren is adamant about having a natural birth. Midwives, doulas (not to be confused with a medulla oblongata), birthing coaches, and Ricky Lake are all terms that we talk about routinely. After watching (most of it) the Business of Being Born on Netflix, I'm starting to understand what we signed up for when we signed a contract with VCU Health's midwifery program. Contrary to my assumptions, we will not be having our baby in a wooden hut with tiki torches and a dancing witch doctor. We'll be delivering with trained medical professionals, supporting staff, and in a hospital (the best

Hospital in VA to be exact) should anything go wrong. I'm planning to be Lauren's "birthing partner". I'm not entirely sure what that means yet, but she bought me the manual to read while we soak up the sun on the lake this summer!

We feel like there is so much we have to do, but I don't think either one of us feel rushed to get them done. I'm more concerned about the parenting stuff we need to learn after our kid is born. I often ask: Is Macgyver's kid the reason everything now has to be baby-proofed? Should we make our kid play piano? Is Neyland Peyton a good name for a boy or a girl? Do we start saving for college or make them pay their own way? Will we have to go  over a wall to vacation in Mexico? Why do all babies love Sophie the Giraffe? Is it safe to wash my clothes with used cloth diapers? Are science experiments still a thing? If I ask them to pull my finger, will they laugh at what comes next? Is it still safe to rub dirt on scratches? We have so much to learn. But, I couldn't ask for a better partner to figure all of this stuff out with together. Lauren is going to be an incredible mom, and I can't wait to start a family with her.

Until next time, bye!

PS, We just found out that our baby can now hear sounds. Feel free to send us your favorite songs for the Baby Moore playlist!

Knocked Up - First Trimester Reflections

Never could I have imagined the excitement of telling Elliott that we would be welcoming a baby into this world together. Totally awesome. And then the nausea sets in. Nausea for all of the cerebral reasons: there goes our money, our free time, our lives as we know it, etc. Then, nausea for all of the actual reasons. For example, "I'm going to puke if I see one more hamburger commercial."

Week 6 was uncomfortable and week 7 was pretty rough...  Week 8 the flood gates opened. This is real life and real puking. 12, 13, 14, 15 weeks... Still sick. My only saving grace is that "they" say it is an indication of a healthy pregnancy. While there is solace in that statement, it is not nearly as comforting as my midwife saying to me at week 12- "you're in survival mode." I am. You get it. It will be ok.

Nothing prepares you for the waves of "crushing nausea" - as perfectly stated by a friend of a friend in the same state. A friend, who in the same breath, said of the gal 'crushed' by nausea, "she's an amazingly strong person... I'm shocked this has her down the way it does." 

I find myself saying things like:

"I'm a strong woman, right?"

"If this is the rest of this pregnancy, I may lose more than my lunch."

And, as hard as it is to admit... "I'm not sure I can do this."
I can't, but we can (expect a post later about my super hubby).

I overheard Elliott mention to a close friend (at about week 8), "I haven't seen Lauren cry in years, she lost it last week..." Maybe it's the emotions and hormones of pregnancy, maybe it is the crushing defeat of having no control and the sheer magnitude of what is happening inside of ones own uterus... But it is real, it is exciting, and my goodness, it is hard. 

Thank the good Lord for Diclegis (a category A drug that is saving my stomach and my sanity right now), for the humility of taking my first sick days in 2.5 years, and for the hope of the second trimester! We can do this. 

On a brighter note, there has never been a more exciting time in our lives. After 15+ years together and 7 years married, we've finally made the decision to start a family. Scary, yes. Exciting, absolutely. 

Elliott is crunching budget numbers, "no more fun money," and he's already getting his anxious foot jostle as we sit in front of the midwife talking about classes, doulas, and baby prep (I've got to be honest, I am too). All of the stress and puking aside, we are thrilled to take this next step. Everything will work out because we have family and friends who love us, lots of parent friends who are on call for the "is this normal?" questions, and each other to partner through all of it - which is the best part of all. 

Love to all.