Friday, December 31, 2010

Christmas and all that

Sheldon and I are pretty sure we want to have another baby after this one (in a few years, obviously) and I fully intend to take everything I learned from this pregnancy and make my next pregnant holiday season A LOT better.

This was the game plan: Christmas Eve night with my in laws, Christmas morning in newlywed alonetime bliss, Christmas afternoon/evening with my family, big Christmas with the kids on the 28th. The general timeline went, for the most part, as planned. But it was not smooth and it was frequently not merry. Lesson learned.

Christmas Eve, we caught a break (the only one of the season) and Sheldon was sent out on a job that let him out early. He got home around 4:30, so we were actually on time (a tremendous feat for us... seriously.) and TOGETHER to his aunt and uncle's house for dinner and festivities. The thing about being 5 months pregnant is that by 8 or 9pm, if I've been up since 6am and doing stuff the entire day, my body starts to crap out. I get sore and it takes me a good minute to stand from comfy chairs. Other than the achy body, it was nice. Delicious tamales, family sing-a-long, and an amazing new camera from the parents.

(this is Sheldon's youngest brother rocking the NERF dart tag we got him. It was way cooler than we ever anticipated.)

The thing about Christmas day is that this year was the only year Sheldon and I would have together without kids. No Santa pressure, no early morning, etc. Just the 2 of us, being together and enjoying each other. Not that I don't love being a mom, its just couple time is so important and this Christmas was a lot of firsts for me. We'd been getting fired up for it for like a month. I'd gone and purchased the ingredients to make a big awesome breakfast for us. No alarm clocks. BLISS. Well, then the phone rang at 5am and Sheldon got called out for a job. The guy who was 1st up and supposed to go ignored his phone (and then lied to Sheldon about it later.) That amazing Christmas morning shattered. Cue the preggo hormones and an hour and a half of crying. My brother picked me up at 1:30 to go have dinner at our aunt's house. There were a lot of not nice comments made (which I obviously added to my "I'm already in a bad mood and having a bad day" bank). Sheldon finally made it home around 8, we got to talk to the kids, and passed out, just happy to finally be together. Not my best Christmas day. (we had our big breakfast the next morning.)

(watching my beautiful nephew Isaac go off on a candy cane was a classic Christmas moment.)

Fast forward to Monday. My lunch did not sit well. It resulted in a violent rejection from my stomach. And pretty much everything else that I tried to eat. Until Tuesday morning, while I was still unable to keep things in my stomach. I called in sick, drank a crapton of water, and embraced my anti-nausea meds. I felt shaky but still made it to pick up the kids at noon. We had lunch at Zaxby's (and they were awesomely still playing Christmas music!), then headed home for the gift bonanza. They started with their gifts from us. Then they moved on to Santa. Basically, they got spoiled out of their little minds. My parents and my brother and his family came over for dinner and there was more gift giving. Even Eli got some presents! It was a big awesome day and fully lived up to the hype of Christmas.

Spoiled. Rotten.

Next year, Sheldon will be turning in his vacation request for Christmas Eve and day in October. He will be there for all 48 hours of Eli's 1st Christmas. The 5 of us will be spending the weekend together, as a family. It might be the best Christmas of my entire life. 2011 is set up to be full of awesome things for the Green family, and to end it like that will be the stuff that dreams are made of.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Pink or Blue?!

Its not just that I'm a bad blogger lately. We moved on December 1st and still don't have internet at home. Our modem came yesterday, so any day now, really. In the mean time...

We are really excited that Baby Green has a name, and it is no longer Promise (which was our nickname - We believed from the time we got engaged that God would bless us with a child together, that He promised that to us.). Well, we're 90% sure about this name anyway...

Because I don't like taking off from my part time job for appointments, and because my doctor only sees patients at the Katy office until noon on Wednesdays (they have 2 other offices in the Houston area he divides his time with), I am very good at getting the 11:30 slot, which is his last one. That means he, knowing I love them and that he's in no hurry, pretty much always does an ultrasound. At 16 weeks, I got reaaaaally excited about getting that peek. It was right around my birthday, and I have not enjoyed the anticipation of not knowing the gender of my little bonus passenger. So my doctor obliged and we took a peek. This child was having none of it. Literally. Squeezed the legs together, rolled over, and gave us a thumbs up. I told my sister that obviously the baby is already in love with Aunt Katy and her aggie ways. She agrees. My doctor told us 18 weeks would be easier to check, and we'd do a more thorough ultrasound. I got PUMPED. We arrived for our 18 week check up like it was Christmas morning. Seriously. I was hardly able to sit still all morning. When the nurse came in with the doppler, she told us he hadn't order the big gender scan. I was NOT happy. We had our visit with the doctor, and he said, "Well, its still so early. We'll have the big gender scan in 2 more weeks. *notices my frown* But let's go take a look." So we head across the hall to the ultrasound room. We looked at a precious head and face. (btw - I was negative across the board on my triple screen. No risk for Downs Syndrome, Spina Bifida, and whatever the 3rd one is. Not that it would make us love our child less, but we did high 5 when he told us.) We looked at a sweet little belly and all I could think was how much I can't wait to tickle and kiss that belly. Then we moved to the legs. "The legs are always the hardest part." This child is still not a cooperator. There was this precious little foot that did not want to move! My doctor shook the wand on my belly (which doesn't feel that great, fyi. Especially since my placenta is apparently towards the front and made the doppler difficult. I was already sore from all that poking.) Foot still wouldn't move. So I rolled on my side and we went at it from a different angle. More wand jiggles (and grimaces from Mommy.) Nope. That foot was THERE. So that's why we only have a 90% sure on the gender. We go back on the 29th for that big gender scan (and have to go to the main office at the hospital) and we'll get a for sure confirmation on gender. I'm actually ridiculously excited about that ultrasound because Cherie and Owen will be with us for Christmas visitation then, and they'll be joining us at the appointment. I can't wait for them to see the baby, to watch those tiny arms move around and see that there is a real person in my belly. I feel like it's going to make it all so much more real for them, and it will also give them more of a sense of ownership of their new sibling. Baby will become something real that they've seen instead of just something we talk about and they pray for.

With that being said, our little miracle's name is Elijah Ross Green, or Eli. When my doctor said, (after "I'm 90% sure" of course,) "it's a boy!", Hubs was overcome. He's been saying boy the entire time, and his intuition was apparently correct. He's so happy there were some tears, which I find beyond adorable.

I'm not cray cray or anything, but there's something about being pregnant with a boy at Christmas. We spend a tremendous portion of the season remembering what it really is all about, why we have a holiday in the first place, and that is a baby boy who was born into NOTHING and gave us EVERYTHING. When I hear the story, or even just phrases like, "Mary's baby boy", I feel this surge of emotion. And I know my son is not Jesus. He is not the 2nd coming of the Savior of the World. He will just be my baby, and while God has big plans for his life, it's not the same. But I can't not touch my belly and feel slightly more in love with my child when I think of that baby boy born 2000 years ago.

I have other stuff I want to write about, but Isaac just woke up from his nap and I'm on Aunt Suzy duty. What a hard duty it is... hehehe