Greetings from San Diego! Daniel and I got to my parents house last Friday and have been having a nice time away from home. Regardless of the friends we've made in Bakersfield, it's always nice to escape to a new environment for a while. My parents left on Christmas Eve for their timeshare on Coronado, so we've had their house to ourselves for the past few days. Well, not really. We're sharing their house with their dog, Buffy, their African Grey, Palucci and our own dog children. So far we've just been relaxing. We went and saw Night at the Museum during the afternoon on Christmas Eve and had a nice dinner out. We've spent a lot of time in a local coffee house writing and relaxing. We cooked at home last night and plan on doing so for the next couple nights as well.
In between all our relaxing we've gone baby shopping with some of our Christmas money. We've decided on a crib and changing table in black. I've decided I don't need an ottoman to go with the glider we plan on getting. We spent $18 on four big butterflies (in fuchsia, purple, chartreuse and blue) to hang on the walls and from the ceiling. I just put a 1/3 down on an inexpensive (but adorable) crib bedding set that Daniel and I both really like. It's girlie without being over the top...and it goes with the butterflies. The colors are lavender, plum, white and lime green with butterflies and flowers. I'm very happy to have found it because we've been sort of difficult to please when it comes to bedding. Neither of us is a huge fan of pink, and every infant bedding place seems to think pink is the best color to use. OY. Watch, the ultrasound tech was wrong and we're really having a boy! We'll still be thrilled and I made sure the bedding we're getting is exchangeable just in case.
But enough about baby stuff... for now.
We have two more nights of staying at my parent’s house and then we'll switch places with them and stay in their timeshare on Friday and Saturday nights. Our gift to them this year was a day at the Zoo, (they want experiences, not objects) so that's what we're all doing on Friday. We'll probably spend Saturday in the city and then head back to my parents house Sunday afternoon to celebrate New Years (and Daniel's birthday) with my dad while my mom works. I'll be sad to get back on the road Monday - back to real life and the end of our little getaway.
I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and that you have a safe and fun New Years Eve! I’ll be back to regular blogging next Tuesday.
So yesterday evening I asked Daniel if he had learned anything new about me from my post yesterday.
"I didn't know you lived in Bellevue, Washington."
And then my eyes popped open. "Because I didn't! I lived in Ballard, Washington...a neighborhood in Seattle!"
Ack! I felt like a big old liar, but I was too tired to go back and correct it on my post for yesterday. Also, I haven't found photographic evidence of my adult blondeness yet...so this is my lame excuse at still posting for you. You, my loyal non commenting readers. *Wink* Wink*
Nanette tagged me, so here goes! Five things you may or may not know about me - depending on how long you've known me, whether or not you pay attention, etc.
1. I've moved around a lot since I was a little baby. Reno, Nevada. Bellevue, Washington. Various cities in California. Various cities in Illinois. Someday, we'll probably end up in Texas. While I don't have any complaints about all the moving, I do hope my kids can grow up in the same area. Plus, I'm tired of moving.
2. If you were looking at me right now, you'd be able to tell from my lovely roots, (that I haven't touched up since I was about 4 weeks pregnant) I was not born a brunette. I was actually quite the little blondie until I started dying my hair for shows in 8th grade.
When I was 22, I started going blonder again and eventually started to get gutsy. Well, gutsy for me. First I went really blonde on top/black underneath. Then I went all dark, dark brown. Then I added bright red streaks. If I weren't so lazy, I'd search out photographic evidence...but I am feeling lazy so... too bad.
Side note: I have a feeling Zoe will be a blonde as well since Daniel actually had very light hair as a youngster.
3. When I was little, I didn't really like the Tom & Jerry or Looney Tunes (especially Roadrunner & Coyote and Sylvester & Tweety) cartoons. I would get upset at how mean they were to each other and I would cry. Apparently, I've never been one for conflict....or I've always been a wuss. It depends how you want to look at it.
4. I took voice lessons with an opera Diva when I was in high school and could sing anywhere from low alto to a very high soprano. I was in 3 operas and had to sing mostly opera in my lessons. I loved my teacher and getting to exercise my voice, but what I really wanted to do was sing in a band or sing jazz standards. Never happened. Maybe someday.
5. I have always read magazines back to front. I don't really know why. That's just "how I roll". Um, yeah. I read books in the traditional front to back way.
I'm not going to tag anyone specific for this one. What I am going to ask, is that if you do this meme - let me know so I can learn more about you. Also, if you're a lurker...email me or comment! Introduce yourself! Don't leave me hanging....
You're so not going to comment, even after my pleading. I see how it is.
So, last night Daniel and I are eating our very low carb meal (more on that later) watching an episode from season one of Smallville ($15.99 at Costco!). We're entertained. I'm savoring every bit of rice I'm allowed to eat. The show is entertaining. We finish dinner and keep watching. Max jumps on my lap and leans against my belly (and Zoe) while he switches back and forth between staring longingly at my empty plate and tries to lick my face (for food remnants?). Clark and Lana are on Lana's front porch and Clark is just about to kiss Lana when her aunt comes out and sends him home. Score one for the aunt. Teenagers kissing on porches! Geez. As the future mother of a teenage girl, I cringe at the thought. We keep watching. Lana is waiting for Clark in the barn loft. They're going to watch the sunset together. They're supposed to be playing freshman, but the actors clearly look like seniors, at least. I mean, I know Clark is Superman...but the actor playing him is not 13 or 14 years old and either is the girl playing Lana. Come on!
The idea of canoodling on front porches and inside barn lofts is too much for me. I start imagining our Zoe as a little freshman doing the same thing. Ack!
"When Zoe has a 'friend' over, I need for you to be in the way and just try to lick that 'friend' as much as possible"
Max gives me a look like he knows exactly what I'm talking about and Duh! What else would he do? He loves licking people’s faces!
There’s a pause as Daniel stares at me for a couple seconds.
"Oh, you mean Max?" 'Yes, honey. I mean Max. It would be awfully strange if you went and licked one of Zoe's friends! Her social life would never be the same."
We laugh. Daniel acts likes he's interupting Zoe and 'friend' and starts licking the air.
Clearly, we both have some parenting issues to work through. At least we have a few years before we have to be concerned about her dating.
Even after me having a tiny cup of coffee this morning, Zocon was just not budging for the ultrasound tech, me, or Daniel. It seems our baby is a hard sleeper...and we're liking that just fine. :) After a whole lot of pushing and shaking by all of us, Zocon stretched the legs out straight and crossed them making it extrememly difficult to see what was what. When I saw the umbilical cord I mistook it for "something else" and was speechless for a moment or two since it was as long or longer than the legs. Luckily, the tech noted for us that we were seeing the umbilical cord. I don't know how they're able to distinguish everything so quickly. With a little more movement, we were finally able to see what we were there to see:
ZOCON is a Zoe! Zoe Angeline Emery.
We're having a girl and we are so excited! :)
The tech pointed out to Daniel that not only is she a heavy sleeper, (I just think she's stubborn like her mom) but she is also private and shy.
We were both pretty certain we were having a boy. My dreams had been 50/50, but in the past couple days I'd been saying 'he' and 'him' a lot when referring to Zocon. After spending some time online searching for crib bedding and only really seeing girl stuff that I liked, we starting thinking it had to be a boy. Murphy's Law, you know. But we were wrong.
Daniel wants to start writing stories for Zoe featuring her as the main character ( a la The Diamond Age). This makes me immensely happy. He's also stated he gets the want for a little bit of pink, but is wanting us to lean more towards "Warrior Princess" instead of just "Princess" - meaning strong, independent girl. I can't imagine her as anything else. :)
In an effort to focus more on the positively wonderful things happening in our lives, Daniel and I have begun to seriously look at our options for Zocon's room. Cribs (convertable to toddler bed and full size). Changing tables. Gliders. Oh, my! We looked around a bit yesterday and found some nice options...less expensive options than the gorgeous, GORGEOUS crib we found at a local baby boutique for $599. The one we are so not getting because it's beyond our budget and the baby will probably grow up and hate it anyway.
So, today I surfed. I typed in 'baby furniture' in the good ol' Google and lists and lists of options appeared. My favorite of all of them was the Fantasy Crib. Not because I really want a fantasy crib for our baby, (I'm just not that frilly) but because the price of it sent me into hysterical laughter. Daniel and I scoff at $599 and there is actually a crib for the price of a car. And it doesn't even convert! Seriously, what is the world coming to? What baby needs this? I'm adding this to the list of things I do not understand.
After dinner last night, Daniel and I set about on the hard task of continuing to combine the office and guest room into one. We decided the small bookcase we’d kept writing books in would become a bookcase for the baby’s books. The difficult part was, Daniel had to pack away some textbooks that he enjoyed having accessible at his whim, and he parted with a few paperbacks. We’re recognizing these adjustments as the small sacrifices we must make to make room for baby. As Daniel sorted and reorganized his books, I became absorbed in keepsakes from our past. Yearbooks. Wedding memories. Photo albums.
I was particularly swept up in a small purple album that I had put together not long after Nana had passed away. To me, the color purple will always be synonymous with my Nana. She looked beautiful in purple, and I think she knew it. Plus, she loved that book: ‘When I’m an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple’.
The pages of the purple photo album were filled with my family and Nana in her last days. There was one of my younger cousins holding Nana tight. There were a few of Nana holding Max on her lap. Nana loved Max and called him ‘Maxfield’. There were photos of my oldest cousins birthday party and a few of us celebrating Nana’s last birthday with us. In those photos, I am pictured smiling and laughing with tears in my eyes and a blotchy face. I would think it would be difficult for an outsider to distinguish what emotion I was actually feeling on that day. Was I laughing so hard I cried, or was the moment bittersweet for me? I think it was actually both.
About halfway through the album there are photos of my mom’s two sisters and two of my cousins. My aunts are drinking wine and all four of them are smiling and laughing as they look through an old photo album. There’s a photo of their two husbands. They are sitting in front of the Christmas tree and it looks like they are telling jokes or old stories. There’s one of me sitting between two of my cousins…all of us smiling. It is clear that we are related. There’s one of poor Bailey, standing on her hind legs at the back door begging to be let inside where all the people are. There are some goofy photos of Daniel and me. One of my favorite photos Daniel and I have ever taken with my dad is in the album. We are all in the kitchen, arms around each other. We look so happy to be together, a family. All of these photos were taken in the days after Nana had passed away. My family had gathered for nearly a week to be together, to celebrate Nana and to lean on one another.
The thing is, I struggled a little bit last night with how happy we all looked without Nana. I pulled Daniel over to look at the pictures with me and asked him if they seemed strange. Didn’t it seem out of place that we were all so happy together? We smiled and laughed and drank wine like we were at a party. The photos could have been taken at a reunion or a Christmas celebration. He said it all seemed normal to him at the time. “But it’s weird, right?”
Early this morning I was stirred awake by butterflies (Zocon?) in my stomach. Then I started feeling that lower back pain that I’ve come to get used to with this pregnancy. Between the fluttering and the jabbing pain, I was having a hard time going back to sleep. So I thought about the photo album. I thought about what Daniel had said about it seeming normal and I realized he was right. My family is just that way. We were all sad and missing Nana, but we’ve been through this as a family already when Pop-Pop died. We’re close. We get through things better when we can laugh and remember the good times. My family sticks together even when things are hard. It’s just what we do.
Nana and Pop-Pop had five children. All five children married and so I have a total of 8 aunts and uncles. I have 14 cousins, (4 of them have spouses). I have 5 second cousins with another one due a week or so before Zocon. My family is large and I love them all. Despite the miles between us, the different circumstances we deal with, our differences in politics and religion; we are all family. We are happy when we get to be together. There have been disagreements about each other’s spouses, children, beliefs - but my family doesn’t let that break us apart. My family hashes things out, agrees to agree or disagree and then moves on. If I ever needed anything my family would jump to help me and my growing family - and I would do the same for them. I know that they do not judge, even if they may have strong differing opinions. We may not all be best friends, (in fact, we might not have chosen to be each others friends at all if we weren’t family) but we’re linked because of our blood...because of Nana and Pop-Pop. We’re all different and I think we enjoy that.
I’m an only child. I have two brothers from my dad’s first marriage, but I didn’t grow up with them. Different cousins became my pseudo siblings and certain friends have become a part of our extended family. I am grateful for that, but I always wanted a brother or sister of my own. I’ve always admired the love my mom shares with her brothers and sisters and the closeness my cousins (and friends) felt with their siblings. I guess I've always romanticized what it must mean to have a sibling. I imagined it was a bond that couldn't be broken. I wanted that.
I want that for Zocon. I want Zocon to have a brother or sister. I want our kids to know my aunts and uncles and cousins. I want them to know Daniel’s sister. I want them to visit their two sets of grandparents like I got to. I want them to enjoy family reunions and shared holidays. I want them to feel comforted that they have a family who loves them, unconditionally. I want my children to know that if their parents can't be there for them, that there is a whole group of people in line to love them and support them in life. I want them to have memories of their family laughing together. I want them to feel like they always have someone to talk to. I want for them to be able to look at old photo albums and feel a connection with the people pictured. I want them to have everything I had and more. That's not too much, is it?
I know I promised you all a picture of our 'Charlie Brown' tree. It's coming, just not today. I struggled with the lighting in our living room last night when I tried to snap the photo and now I'm just not in the mood. Hey. It will give you something to look forward to. Um. Yeah.
I got a call from our OB/GYN office this afternoon informing me that I failed my glucose test. We had sort of prepared ourselves for this, but it's still kind of upsetting to me. I worry. I worry all the time, and this compounds that worry times ten. Daniel and I go back to the office tomorrow for a 3-hour Glucose test. I need to not have anything but water after 8 o'clock tonight to prepare for our 8 am testing. They'll take a fasting blood sample and then I'll drink a disgusting orange drink that does not taste like flat orange soda despite the lab techs urging. An hour later they will take more blood and then the hour after that...and the hour after that. Yep. You read that correctly: 4 blood draws in the span of three hours. I'm not especially looking forward to this. Thank goodness Daniel will be with me.
Before this whole baby adventure, I was quite the baby about getting poked with a needle. Having an IV put in, or blood drawn are two of my least favorite things ever. Ever! But, I've been sucking it up and being a big girl...for Zocon's sake. And I'm happy to do it. I mean, when all is said and done... we get a BABY! I've learned to look away and just keep breathing and it's usually over before I know it. Tomorrow is going to be a big test for me as far as how much I've grown up. This may sound silly, but I so want a treat afterwards. Like dinner and a movie...or a new CD and a new DVD. Hmmm. I want a prize for every vial of blood they take. Oooh. That would be kind of cool.
Anyway. Wish me luck. I have a feeling the results are going to tell us I have gestational diabetes. No biggie. It happens to a lot of pregnant women. We'll just have to monitor me and I'll meet with someone who is a diabetes expert and they will help me with my nutrition. Oy.
I've been out of touch lately. It's true. Since the holiday, I've been taking it easy. Daniel and I have been enjoying our time away from rehearsals for a show and really enjoying this part of the pregnancy and each other. We've even gotten to socialize with our friends, which has been nice. We love theatre, but there are so many other things we'd like to be able to do as well. I thought I'd try to bring you all up to speed on a few things and tell you about some things that have been occupying our last couple weeks.
Daniel and I went to the mall two days after Thanksgiving to have our iMacs* looked at. Mine was especially wonky and was highlighting things I'd typed if I touched anything other than the keyboard and then would erase my words. It was doing this paragraphs at a time and driving me nuts. Blogging had been a chore with this impairment. Turned out the wait time to have a "Genius" look at our laptops was just over two hours, so Daniel and I walked around for almost that entire time. We browsed. We sat on benches. We wasted time. We did not buy a single thing. It felt a little strange to be at the mall on one of the busiest weekends of the year for retail and not be shopping like everyone else. We weren't in the mood....and we're on what I like to call: The Pregnancy/Baby Budget. Friends and family will be getting smaller gifts this year.
After our two hour wait was up, a very nice "Genius" said my problem was my battery. Apple was replacing all batteries that had a certain set of id numbers on it, and mine was part of that deal. The fact that my battery was expanding also helped. Because Daniel's battery was made at the same time, he got a new one as well. We got two new batteries valued at $125 each for free. Yay us. Free stuff is nice when you're expecting a baby. Hell. Who am I kidding? Free stuff is almost always nice.
When we got back to my parents house from the mall, I spent the rest of the evening unpacking all of my parents Christmas decorations. Daniel built the tree and started decorating it. We got the house looking festive, and I was ready to pass out from exhaustion. We decided that we'd be doing a small tree at our house this year and doing minimal decorating. Minimal decorating is sort f easy to do since we don't have a lot of Christmas stuff yet. We have about 20 ornaments and a few things for around the house. No where near the plethora (see, there's my favorite word again!) of decorations that our two sets of parents have.
Anywho. Our visit with my parents was very nice, but we were glad to be home and have some time just us.
We've had some nice evenings at home watching movies.
We've been doing a lot of reading.
We had our first appointment with our new OB/GYN and both think he is very nice. He's got a great personality and we both feel really good about him as our doctor. He's probably my dad's age (but looks a lot older) and has a fun personality. I almost had a heart attack when he was looking for the baby's heartbeat with the Doppler and upon hearing it said, "Well, there's one." Turns out, this is his joke he does with just about everyone and we really do just have one in there. Not that we wouldn't have loved twins too, but Phew!
Daniel sings to the baby. Whether it's a song from one of the Muppet movies, a made up song about having to change Zocon's diapers, or just some strange impromtu beat box/sound effects medley - he cups his hands around his mouth on top of my belly and entertains me and Zocon. Technically Zocon won't be able to hear us for another few weeks, but seeing this side of Daniel is one of my favorite things about being pregnant.
We're just over 15 weeks along and easing into the second trimester very nicely. I've definitely got more than a bump happening and I love it. About a week ago I looked down at my bare tummy while I was laying in bed and saw it jumping up and down in quick movements. It was like Zocon was trying to send me morse code, or maybe doing the Cha Cha (not too surprising since I was doing the Cha Cha almost everyday of my first 6 weeks during 'The Full Monty'). It was awesome.
A couple nights ago, I woke up quickly after feeling a quick poke in the belly and then I felt it again stronger. Our doc says Zocon's a mover, and I'm feeling it first hand. I'm looking forward to Daniel being able to feel it too.
We're slowly making headway with the office becoming the nursery. Daniel and I went out and got shelving for the guest room closet and cleared a lot of office stuff away. Our file cabinet has been moved and the office closet is almost completely empty. I dropped off tons of clothing at Goodwill today and gave a few costume worthy pieces to The Spotlight. It feels good to see progress.
I've been busy planning our little Christmas break. We don't have the money to go to San Antonio this year like we had wanted, but we'll be going to San Diego and staying at my parents house while they are in Coronado. I plan on cooking a lot at their house and just taking it easy...maybe a couple trips downtown and definitely some time at Balboa Park and the museums.
We put up our little tree last night and have decided it's our 'Charlie Brown' tree. We think it's cute. I'll take a picture of it tonight and post it tomorrow.
Speaking of posting, I'll be posting more - I promise. Maybe not everyday of the week, but at least a few times a week. I hope you all are doing well and enjoying the season.
* My wonderful (smarty pants) husband just informed that they're not really iMacs, but Macbook Pros. I was cutting corners in their descriptions and wanted to spare myself the typing of a few extra letters, but he called me on it. Thanks, honey. Whatevs.
I’d blame the hormones, but I’m pretty much always this way…I thought today would be a good day to share some things I am thankful for.
I’m thankful for….
Daniel. He is an amazing husband, and my best friend. The first time I saw him and he smiled at me, I knew I wanted to know him. The first chance I had to actually sit and talk to him, I knew that he was someone I would always want to be a part of my life. His smile is my favorite sight. His support is unwavering and complete. He is my partner in every sense. We’re lucky to have found each other.
Mom & Dad. Not many people can say that their parents are also their friends. They raised me to be strong and to have a sense of humor. They’ve encouraged me in whatever endeavor I have chosen to give my time to. They’re fun people, and I admire them immensely. It’s nice to know that they are always just a phone call away.
Nana. Even though she’s been gone for almost a year now (on November 30th) she is with me every single day. I’m thankful for getting to be there with her when she needed me to be. I’m thankful for all the stories. I’m thankful that Daniel and I got to take her to lunch and talk to her about us wanting to have children and how she comforted and assured me we would. Nana knew the names we had picked out for our first and second children. She gave us input and approved – it helps to have that memory since I can’t have her here. Nana is someone I still look to for guidance. Whenever I get scared that I might not be a good mom, I think about my mom…and I think about Nana and how she raised five children (sometimes with her husband overseas) and was such an intricate part of 15 grandchildren’s lives.
Daniel’s parents. It’s one thing to have a good, strong relationship with your own parents…but to truly enjoy and like your in-laws. Well, I hear that’s not so common. Some people might say it’s unusual that I actually look forward to them visiting, but we always have so much fun together. I’ll never forget staying with them when Daniel went away for the weekend. Or when Daniel was late getting back from his bachelor weekend and his mom made me snacks, gave me beer and scolded him for his inconsideration. I love that I feel so comfortable with them and I really love that they get along so well with my family. It makes things even more enjoyable for Daniel and I to have that.
My friends. Alison. Sharon. Mel. I could tell these ladies just about anything. Each of them is very different from the other, but they all are such an important part of my life. Their friendship and support are part of my glue and I appreciate them more than they probably know.
Our new friends. There was a time when Daniel and I felt like all we had was each other. We hated Bakersfield and didn’t feel a connection to the people here. That has changed in the past year or so. We’ve met some amazing people who have shared in our happiness and contributed to it immensely. They make Bakersfield a better place.
Our fertility doctor – “Doc B” and fertility treatments. The first day we met with Doc B, he made it clear that there was nothing wrong with me and that I would get pregnant and soon. I had never miscarried, everything was in the right places and I was in good condition to carry a baby to full term. I was young and healthy. I just needed some extra nudging with the help of some medication to get everything on the right track. His reassurance took a load of my shoulders and I was able to relax somewhat. We’re now told that it is very likely that we won’t need any help in conceiving our next child.
Theatre. Daniel and I are taking some time off from theatre for a while, but this past year our involvement with the theatre community has been so important to us. We found new friendships, had a lot of laughs and it allowed us to focus our energy on something positive and rewarding. Doing a show kept me from dwelling on losing Nana and becoming obsessed with not being able to conceive as quickly as I had hoped. Even though our focus needs to be on Zocon for a bit, we will always be involved in some capacity.
My photography. It’s become something I am addicted to. The enjoyment I get out of taking photographs keeps me young and feeling creative. I’ve especially enjoyed getting to meld two of my favorite things together: Theatre and Photography. I hope the upcoming year will bring more experimentation and growth.
There are hundreds more things I am thankful for, I’m sure. I’d love to keep this going, but I’ve got stuff to do before we drive to San Diego later today. I have a load of laundry to do, then a trip to Target and then an hour orientation at our new OB/GYN. ACK!
"This is my wife, Keely. She's pregnant and having trouble breathing."
These words came out of Daniel's mouth (quite calmly, I must say) at 1a.m. Sunday, in the ER near our house.
But let me back up a little:
Saturday night had been busy. We got to the theatre at six to eat an early dinner. Daniel's call time was 6:45 and we like to get to the theatre early so he can be relaxed before having to be on stage all night without a break. I gave the actors their photo CD's filled with the best 162 out of 300 photos I took during their dress rehearsals. I goofed around with my friends in the cast. I sat in the lobby talking with friends and blushing a little when they noticed that the preggo belly is starting to become visible. I was complimented on how healthy and happy I looked. I stocked up on snacks and drinks and headed up to the tech booth to watch the show. "Assassins" is a two-hour plus show with no intermission, so the tech booth became my favorite place in the house to sit. Being there gave me the freedom to stand and stretch, eat, and get up for potty breaks as often as need be. I averaged about 3-4 times in a two-hour span.
The closing night attendance was great and I was so proud of all the actors in the show. Every one of them is so talented and it was a pleasure to photograph them and see them bring their characters to life over and over again. I saw the show ten times and never grew bored. It was awesome.
After the meet and greet in the lobby, the cast and crew got to work on striking the set. I was in charge of the list. Basically that meant I got to tell people what to do and cross things off when they got done. I loved my job.
Strike took a couple hours and then we all headed over to a party one of the cast members was having. We were exhausted, but we felt like we needed to make an appearance just for a little while. We drank lemonade and ate cheese and crackers. We took funny pictures. We had a good time. Then, I started having a hard time breathing. They had a cat (which I'm even more allergic to now that I'm pregnant) locked in one of the bedrooms for the party, but my super human preggo senses still smelled it. And then someone got black paint (it was on the bottom of their shoes) on the white carpet. A very diligent friend got to work on the carpet with an old rag and some type of cleaner. I sat there for a bit watching him scrub and spray, scrub and spray, and then I started feeling light headed and sick. Daniel and I got up and walked in the kitchen to get away from the fumes, but the lovely hostess soon followed and then stood and talked to us with the offending spray and the now soaked rag in her hands. I stood there nodding and smiling for a few minutes and then told her and Daniel that I wasn't feeling well and needed to leave. We said our goodbyes, I joked with our friends a little and we walked out into the fresh night air.
Things slid downhill from there. My trouble breathing turned into me gasping for air. Daniel led me to our car, encouraging me to relax and take deep breaths. We started driving and every breath was harder to breathe. I was extremely distressed. I was scared. I was worried Zocon would be having trouble breathing if I was and I tried to gulp air in. All the time, Daniel was driving calmly and trying to make me feel better. He told me over and over again that everything would be all right. I started crying and eventually I could feel my throat closing up. I told Daniel and he asked me if I needed to go to the ER, I nodded and he got me there quickly and safely.
When we walked into the room, Daniel went straight to the security guard on duty.
"This is my wife, Keely. She's pregnant and having trouble breathing."
The man looked at me, asked how far along I was and sent us to the registration desk where Daniel repeated.
"This is my wife, Keely. She's pregnant and having trouble breathing."
If I hadn't been working so hard to breathe and stifle my tears, I would have laughed. I felt like I was in that scene from Bridget Jones' Diary. You know, the scene at the cocktail party where they're introducing their friends to one another.
"This is my wife, Keely. She takes photographs for the Spotlight and loves theatre."
A nurse came out to the waiting room and ushered me back to a bed. They took my vitals and nurses attached heart monitors to my chest and belly. A doctor was in to see me within moments. I was fine. I was having an allergic reaction, but my oxygen levels were still good and the baby wasn't in any danger. I think I stopped crying the moment those words came out of the doctors mouth. I was never scared for me, it was all about Zocon. I had been kicking myself for being so relieved that my first trimester was almost over. I was sure I had jinxed myself and that I was going to miscarry all because I had tried to be polite instead of leaving the party at the first sign of trouble breathing. They gave me a shot of Benedryl and told me to lie down and relax. I asked for my husband (who was still out in the waiting area registering me). The nurse asked me his name and I told him we didn't know yet.
"You don't know you're husbands name…yet?!" "Oh! I thought you were asking the baby's name! It's Daniel, my husband is Daniel!"
The nurse left quickly and came back to tell me Daniel would be in shortly. He smiled and told me that Daniel was going to be a great dad. He said he was being very calm and patient and that I should be proud. I was. I was so glad that one of us had remained calm. They monitored my heart rate and oxygen levels for nearly two hours. Daniel held my hand and reassured me. I dozed off a little as he fought off sleep. It was nearly 3:30 in the morning when we finally got to go home and fall into our bed.
It's been two days since our ER drama, and it's all still fresh in my mind. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. It is even clearer to me now, how lucky I am. I am so thankful for Daniel and his strength and support. I am thankful for this baby we've been wanting for so long and nurtured for the past three months. I am thankful for Daniel. I am thankful for our friends and family who have been so kind to us and shared in our excitement. As I said in my last post, this is going to be a very special Thanksgiving for us this year.
Daniel has his last performance of "Assassins" tonight, a strike of the set afterwards and then...then our nights and weekends are free! Ha...like a cell phone plan.
There's been a lot of drama (that crappy kind) that we've been dealing with lately and we're done. While it's not completely within our control, Daniel and I have decided to try to eliminate unnecessary stress where ever we can. This includes (but isn't limited to) too many time commitments, and interacting with people who seem to relish in conflict. Life is too short, and we've got better things to do with our time.
Like take Max to the dog park. We're leaving Bailey at home tomorrow and going for a "Pug Meet up" at one of the local dog parks. We think the interaction with other pugs (without his overbearing sister) will be good for Max and I feel like it will be good for our morale to see cute, fat pugs frolicking in the grass. I love puppies.
I've found a OB/GYN. A couple whose temperament matches ours recommended him to us and we trust their judgement. On the website for the office, there is a quote from the doc that his "favorite thing to do is catching babies." I'm pretty sure we're going to like this guy.
I need to cancel the "Meet and Greet" with the other doc. I'm sort of relieved. The only thing I could think to ask him was: "Know any good jokes?" and "Do you normally close the door during a procedure?"
This Wednesday is "Orientation Day" at the OB/GYN's office. I'll fill out paperwork, find out about the services they have to offer (like prenatal massages and 4D Ultrasounds) and come up with a payment plan for the actual birth. It only takes an hour - the orientation, not the birth.
Later on Wednesday, Daniel and I are packing the Prius up with Bailey and Max in tow and heading to San Diego to spend Thanksgiving weekend with my parents. I'm excited to be out of Bakersfield. I'm excited for a change of pace. I'm looking forward to a turkey dinner and the leftovers that will follow.
Every year I am extremely thankful for my friends and family and all the amazing things that have happened and the lessons learned, etc. This year I feel elated. We've got a lot to be thankful for.
This is my family's first Thanksgiving without Nana. I think it's going to be a little hard on everyone.
I am officially in the last week of my first trimester. I hear the second trimester is wonderful. I'm just happy to have come this far and that the percentages of miscarriages drops considerably once you enter the 14th week.
When we arrive in San Diego, there is supposed to be a box full of maternity clothes (that my parents ordered me) to get me through the next six months. I'm excited to not have to wear the same preggo jeans everyday anymore. My mom left a message on my cell that I should just bring underwear and whatever I wear for the trip, but I'm bringing a few extra things just in case the box doesn't arrive.
I may post again before Thanksgiving, I may not. We'll see.
So, I woke up yesterday with some extreme back pain in my shoulder area. At first it was a constant dull ache, but as the day progressed the pain became shooting. It hurt to raise my arm and there were many points where I yelped out in pain. At bed time, Daniel helped me by surrounding me with pillows - in front of my stomach, behind my back, between my knees. I was a pillow taco. Hmmm. That's a weird phrase I will try never to use again. Anyway, I woke up this morning and the pain had not magically disappeared so Daniel called and made me an appointment for a prenatal massage for this afternoon.
Now I've never had a full blown massage before so I didn't know what to expect, really. I expected dim lights, pleasant scents, (I was hoping for lavender)and relaxing music. I thought there might even be a rock fountain, but I was hoping not because the sound of water would probably make me think I had to pee constantly. I thought I would lay on the table and close my eyes. I worried a little that I might fall asleep and in the process drool on my pillow. I was excited. A nice, relaxing prenatal massage was going to help the pain in my shoulder. I was going to feel rejuvenated once the hour was up.
It's probably best not to put too many expectations on things.
Oh, the lights were dim, the music relaxing. The room smelled nice...some floral scent. There was no fountain, but this was sort of a relief. Initially, I did lay on the table and close my eyes - until my massage therapist started talking.
"Do you work?" "I do photography and theatre, but basically no." "Oh, that's nice. You get rest. I wish I get rest when I pregnant." "Yes. It's nice. This is my first pregnancy and I feel so worn out. Everything is so new and different."
And I think right there is when I opened the can of worms. My massage therapist went on to tell me that she farmed for the first three months of her pregnancy...in Vietnam. When she could no longer farm, she was forced to cook for all the farmers. When she could no longer do that, she sewed hats for the farmers...all day. She told me that she only had one child and she would never, ever have another. She told me she was sick for all nine months of her pregnancy. She told me the gory and very upsetting details of the hard birth and pretty much scared the crap out of me. And then I told her I was sorry and tried to close my eyes.
But she continued. She told me about her arranged marriage and how she only shared the "marriage bed" with her husband once before he was taken away and killed. A month later she found out she was pregnant. She told me about the horrors of war (in detail) that she witnessed. She spoke of her screaming baby and how she and the child were kicked out a hiding space because she could not calm her child because of the guns and bombs...so she ran through the fields and jungle seeking shelter. It was horrifying and I felt horrible for her.
The thing is: I'm a good listener. I am sensitive and open minded. I'm good at letting people talk and not interjecting my own thoughts too much so that they feel comfortable. But I have never had to listen to things like this before. I found myself nodding, telling her I was sorry, etc....but also wanting her to just stop. I felt guilty for just wanting to get to relax and be pampered. I felt selfish that I wanted to jump up and run for the door and ask someone else to help me. In a different venue, I would have been better...more open to listening. It just felt so uncomfortable and strange to be lying on a table pretty much naked being massaged by a woman as she told me of all the horrors she's faced. I didn't feel like I belonged there. I felt tense. I felt like I shouldn't be paying for an hour of this. And that made me feel even more selfish and spoiled.
When it was over, I felt so relieved to be out of there. As Daniel walked me to the car, he asked me how it was. I told him (with even less detail than I'm giving you) what had happened. I felt bad that something he'd set up for me to be a good experience turned out the way it had. On the drive home I thought about saying nothing to the managers of the place, but decided other women shouldn't have to sit through that. While I feel like that woman needs to talk to someone (preferably a therapist of some sort) I don't think the people that she gives massages to should be involved. So I called a few minutes ago. I told the manager what happened while also complimenting the lady on the massage. I over compensated with the complimenting because I didn't want to make her look incapable, but I did explain how uncomfortable I was and that my experience was definitely hindered by her inappropriate stories. I told her this was my first massage and that I will not look back at this as a pleasant experience at all...in fact it's difficult for me to get the images of this woman's life out of my head. She curtly thanked me for my "input", said she would talk to the woman and then she hung up on me. Now, I didn't want a refund. I had already decided I would just never go back there again. I just really thought the lady would be more sympathetic and maybe even apologize. But as I said before: It's probably best not to put too many expectations on things.
This photo was taken in February 2001 of the cast of the cast of “Commedia del Arte”. For those of you who know us (or have been reading this blog for a while) the show title may sound familiar. Daniel and I “officially” met and started dating during rehearsals for this production. Notice Daniel (in the navy blue tunic) with short hair. Notice me (in the red corset) trying (and perhaps succeeding) to look like a tart – it was my character. Oh, time…how it does fly. Our younger selves never would have imagined we’d be on our way to being parents four years after this photo was taken.
Anywho. That’s all I got for you today. Hey, two posts in two days…not bad. I wanted you to know I didn’t get lost in the abyss of the office. There’s a ton to do still, but I certainly got a lot done. Stay tuned for more words tomorrow, maybe.
Before I sequester myself in our extremely unorganized and cluttered office, I thought I would check in. Part of me thinks it's important to post a message so you all know where I am just in case I get sucked into the abyss/mess that the room has become. I've got art and photography supplies and miscellaneous office stuff piled up on the table, a filing cabinet that is a mess and a closet full of clothes that Daniel and I have barely glanced at in almost four years. In the months that have gone by my answer to this dilemma has been to just keep the door shut and stay out of there as much as possible, but things....they are a changin'. I've decided it's time to sift through the mess and clear the room out for Zocon. I know, I'm only 12 weeks 4 days into my pregnancy, but I like to get things done early and the disorganization is like a thorn in my side. Plus, I've been moving a little slower than usual lately and I feel like there is a plethora (I LOVE that word, by the way) of things to do before the end of May. So I'm taking my iPod and some veggies with ranch dip (provisions, you know are required) and I'm going to get some stuff done. If I don't blog in the next few days, you should probably send a search party.
So, I've been "Slacker Blogger" as of late. I know, I know....I get pregnant and then I ignore my blog. What is this world coming to? The important thing to remember is : I haven't been ignoring your blogs - even if I have sort of been lurking and not leaving you comment love. I feel bad about the whole thing, really. Mainly, I feel bad about ignoring one of my best outlets...but I'm going to try to be better about that...from now on.
What have I been doing? Oh, you know....
Supporting my husband and the musical he is performing in (Assassins) by going to every performance for the last two weeks (except last Sunday's matinee - I wasn't feeling well).
Watching three days of rehearsal so that I would know the show and lighting for when I photographed 2 days of dress rehearsals. The photos turned out awesome, all 200 of them.
Talking to my parents nearly every other day.
Getting over morning sickness and embracing my need for very small meals 10 times a day. OK, ten might be an exaggeration.
Picking out a ton of maternity wear from catalogs. The preggo belly has started to surface and I'm getting super tired of wearing the same pregger jeans every single day.
Trying not to stress too much when some ass fraudulently used our bank card number and cleared our account completely. Yeah. Luckily it was just a few days from payday and there wasn't much to steal, but still. The good news is we've already been refunded part of it. I guess Wells Fargo isn't as bad as I said they were.
Having our last appointment with our specialist in Thousand Oaks. He gave us the all clear to start going to our doc on Bako now that he'd seen the heartbeat a total of three times and we all got to watch the baby move around and put it's hands to it's face. We got a video of it and I've only watched it five times. Really.
Going to our first prenatal appointment with the doc friends said I would think was hot (Not hot. Not to me anyway. But I only have eyes for Daniel...so whatever.) and who I was supposed to just love. I didn't love him. I don't think I really even liked him. Now, we might have caught him on a bad day. He may have been rushed. I'm sure he is a fabulous doctor, but I think I want to see if we can find a better fit for us.
I got hormonal and started crying in the exam room (just out of nerves). When he came in the room he acted like everything was normal.
He was condescending. "Am I sure August 18th was the first day of my last period?" "Am I sure the conception date was September 4th?" Yes. Yes, I am sure. I've sort of been keeping track of the minor details for the past year.
During the exam, he failed to warn me before he proceeded to do things. It might just be a personal thing (and the doc in Thousand Oaks probably spoiled me forever as far as this is concerned) but I like to know when the doc is going to start doing things like say, pushing at my breast. There were other things he failed to warn me about, but I'm sparing you all details.
He rushed the ultrasound. He acted put out by the fact that I wanted to be told how big Zocon had gotten. Oh, and during the ultrasound the door was ajar. Ajar! Now some might say that I should give up my modesty...not too far in the future I will be giving birth, but please. I want the door shut. Is that too much to ask?
He just wasn't Dr. B. Doctor B. was so great, and understanding, and comforting.
Setting up a "Meet & Greet" with a new OB/GYN. Apparently I will have about five minutes to decide if I like this new guys personality and bedside manner enough to let him examine me and later deliver our child. Hmm. Suggestions on what I should ask? Anyone?
Craving things so bad that when I finally get them, I practically devour them like a wild animal.
Having the most vivid dreams I have ever had in my life. Good ones, bad ones, scary ones. In my dreams I am always hugely pregnant. Most dreams are some sort of disaster that I have to save Daniel, the dog children, me and Zocon, or the entire world from. Last night I saved the world from terrorists. It seems in my dreams I am some sort of superhero - Pregnant Keely to the rescue! Apparently, being pregnant has given my subconscious delusions of grandeur...and it's exhausting. I much prefer the dreams where I am shopping for baby clothes or hearing first words.
Planning a birthday party for a theatre pal.
Relaxing. Cuddling with the husband and watching movies. Taking naps. Looking at my house and trying to figure out where to begin first as far as organization and cleaning go. Etc. Etc. Etc.
And that's my activities in a nutshell. I'll work on posting more frequently. Girl Scouts honor.*
* Tangent - I should probably take that back since I was asked to leave my troop....troop 298? When I was nine I got into an argument with my friend who was the leaders daughter and asked to leave my troop. However, while I was a Scout I was a model one. I had all sorts of patches on my sash and vest...and one year (with the help of my mom) I was the top cookie seller and won a trip to Disneyland. OK. Tangent over. Carry on.
So, today has been considerably better than yesterday. I'm still tired, but at the same time refreshed.
I got up and went for a Razzmatazz at Jamba Juice (with femme boost for Zocon) and then went and got my hair cut. Nothing exciting, just an inch off the bottom and my bangs trimmed up again. I was supposed to be having my roots covered, but I'm going to try to hold out until my second trimester (like, the first day of) to add more color. I'm not worried about dark dye hurting Zocon. According to my doc there is no danger because Mercury is not in the dye anymore. I heard the color stays longer once you've gotten past the first few months. This could all be propaganda, but we could stand to save the money.
After my hair appointment (wherein she tried to pressure me at least three times to just let her dye it today) I walked around the outdoor shopping area a bit and then called Daniel. He came and met me for a nice lunch. We sat on the patio, ate chips and salsa and enjoyed the weather. It was lovely to be outside...and lunch was yummy.
Two and a half hours out and about and I'm exhausted, but the good news is I'm not feeling sick.
So, Baby "Zocon" is throwing me for a loop this week. I'm moody and more tired than I was last week. I get cranky very easily and just about everything sets me off into tears. There are moments where I think I should just lock myself up in the house until the second trimester (I hear things settle down then). Don't get me wrong, I'm happy. I am so excited to be pregnant and to have this baby...but I'm not having an easy time of it. At all. If one more person tells me they "never had morning sickness", I think I might scream. Really, I'm happy for them but can we not rub it into the lady suppressing the need to go get sick? That would be great.
I feel guilty for complaining. I worry that my venting will be construed as not being grateful or happy. I'm happy. I'm grateful. It's just...well, my boobs hurt (and itch) and I feel so nauseated all the time. Heartburn sucks and watching movie trailers should not make me burst into sobs. Also, I already need to buy some maternity clothes. I was looking forward to shopping for maternity clothes before, but we're trying to watch our budget really carefully so I'm waiting. I've got one pair of stretchy black pants that I'm wearing almost every day and I'm tired of them. Also, my boobs don't fit in most of my shirts now. The stretchy shirts that fit are too snug for me to be comfortable. I need loose and airy, not form fitting and constraining.
I know this will pass. I know this is probably just a particularly grouchy day and tomorrow will be better. I know that when we get to see the heartbeat again on Thursday and we see how the baby is growing, I'll sigh and think life is wonderful and grand. And it is. Really. I'm just cranky.
Generally speaking, I've been eating healthy since finding out about the pregnancy. It's been kind of easy when I naturally seem to crave things like fruit and vegetables. Occasionally, I feel the need for something else. Like my peanut butter, raspberry jelly and cheddar cheese sandwiches. Or, Doritos! Usually though, it's something far better for me (and the baby)like a baked potato or chicken.
This morning, I woke up wanting pizza. Pizza with mushrooms and olives, from Domino's. If I could have had it my way I would have loved to have some deep dished pizza from Gino's East in Chicago with hot giardiniera on top, (YUM!) but you know...distance was an issue. Domino's is convenient, fast and cheap...so I dialed the number around 12:30.
I was told the delivery would take 45 minutes so I read more blogs. I found a blogger in NY who is also pregnant and due the day before me...so I emailed her. I got myself a big glass of water. I relished the fact that I wasn't feeling ill. And then there was a knock at my door. Only 20 minutes had passed. I hadn't put a bra on! (I know, you're pretty much supposed to wear a bra 24 hours a day when you're pregnant. Ssh.) I was barefoot (insert pun here). I looked like a woman who had only gotten 4 good hours of sleep. I was going to scare the delivery guy!
I cracked the door open and told him I was just going to put the dogs away really fast...and then it happened. Bailey casually walked outside, jumped at the guys legs and then ran away. I yelled at her to stop when Max squeezed his fat little body through my legs and went barreling after her. They swerved back and forth across our lawn. Freedom! While I'm yelling, the pizza guy is shoving the receipt in my face for me to sign and handing me the pizza. He had places to go, he wasn't volunteering to help chase two dogs. Damn him. In a last ditch effort, I yelled to the ruffians: "Look guys, pizza! Food!" They didn't care, they had exploring to do.
So I set the pizza down on our porch and went running down the stairs. Pregnant. Braless. Shoeless. And then I started feeling just a little nauseated. I caught Max two doors down and swept him up into my left arm like a football. Bailey was on the move and fast. It was like she needed to smell everything, and quickly. Max started slipping from my grasp and I was ready to just let him go and go back in the house whether they followed or not. Screw it. I was feeling lousy and these dogs were ruining my pizza plans! I don't know if Bailey got bored with the events, (or if I scared her with the wild look in my eye)but she froze in her tracks and I hooked her collar with my finger. I put Max on the ground and hooked his collar as well. Quickly, the three of us walked. Max huffed. Bailey snorted. My feet were muddy.
Once dogs, pizza and I were safe in the house, I dropped on the couch. I pulled myself together, waited for the nausea to subside and opened the pizza box. Mushrooms. Olives. I thought I'd devour it. And I did. Two pieces and I was done. I had been starving! All that for two slices of pizza. The things I do for a craving.
Daniel and I are going to have a baby! We knew when I did my last post, but we decided we wanted to wait until we saw the heartbeat before we released the news to the masses. This was my main reason for a brief hiatus. I didn't think I'd be able to resist blogging about our news if I continued posting daily. I've come to see that in regards to my pregnancy, I am horrible at keeping secrets. I know a lot of people keep the news to themselves until they reach the second trimester, but we're of the mind that we would rather people know what we were going through and have them to lean on instead of having to explain later why we are sad. It's a personal choice, and this decision feels right for us.
Not posting for so long has not been easy. So much has happened that I wanted to tell you all about. I got really sick (viral/sinus infection) and missed a weekend of "The Full Monty" performances...and there were times I wanted to log in and tell you all what was happening. Reading your blogs kept me happy though and I am feeling much better (except for the "all day" sickness).
Anywho. Even though I wasn't blogging, I was keeping a sort of journal of what's been happening as far as the pregnancy goes. I thought I'd share that with you....and a cute message from Daniel that he sent out yesterday to his friends in Texas.
Sunday, September 24th - How we found out: The doctors told Daniel and I that we could take a home pregnancy test on Monday, September 18th. Since we have quite a few family members and friends who have been hoping to hear good news soon, I told them all we would know on Tuesday the 19th. I figured that would give us a day to adjust to either a negative or positive result. Somehow, I got my wires crossed and had convinced myself (and Daniel) that we couldn’t do a test until Tuesday. Sunday night I told Daniel that I didn’t see any harm in me taking the test a day early, but he really thought I should wait until the day the doctors suggested so there wouldn’t be any doubt in either of our minds. So I waited. Late Monday in the afternoon I was updating my calendar and saw that the test day was actually Monday. Excited, I rushed into the bathroom and took a test. The test came back inconclusive. I was sure that meant negative and I sort of resigned myself to the idea of one more month without being pregnant.
I woke up Tuesday morning at 4 am. I was feeling woozy and had to pee. I’d been feeling this way for a couple weeks, but I thought it was just the hormones from all the medications. I didn’t want to get my hopes up again, so I just accepted the hot flashes, high body temperature, nausea and dizziness as more side effects.
So, I peed in a cup, put the test stick in for 5 seconds and replaced the cap. I sat the test on the counter and looked away for a few seconds at most. Every time I take a pregnancy test I tell myself not to stare at the result window. I tell myself to look at it after the 3 minutes are up and not stress about it. For the first time ever I repeated “It’s OK if it’s negative.” Over and over like a mantra. But, after just a few seconds, a line was forming in both windows. I stared for a while, grabbed the instructions and read again what the two lines meant (even though I knew) and let out a huge sigh. I was pregnant!
I rushed back into our bedroom where Daniel was sleeping and as calmly as I could, asked him if he was awake. He said yes and I jumped on the bed with the test. “We’re pregnant! We’re going to have a baby!” We laughed, we giggled, and I got teary. It was an amazing morning. Daniel managed to get back to sleep (he had to…he needed to be up at 6:30 for work) but I tossed and turned. I was still feeling woozy and now I was so excited that sleep seemed impossible. I couldn’t wait to tell our parents and some of our close friends. I was excited to call our doctor and go in for my blood test to confirm what we knew.
Daniel went to work and I tried to rest, but I couldn’t. At around 8:30, I took another test…. you know, just in case the first test was wrong. The lines appeared instantly. I was so excited. I’d been taking these tests for a year and finally seeing a positive result was so exciting.
I was at the lab early for my blood test and the fertility office called me with the results. I was pregnant and my pregnancy hormone count was excellent = 250. They told me to go back to the lab in a few days for another blood test. They were looking for my pregnancy hormone to double in the next few days. I took the test on Friday and got the call on Saturday. The pregnancy hormone had nearly quadrupled to 950. They said that was excellent news. Part of me can’t help but wonder if I’ve got twins with me. The idea isn’t scary to me at all. I’d be happy with one healthy, happy baby…and just as happy with two. This is such an amazing time for Daniel and me.
My wooziness went to actually throwing up early (4 am) Saturday morning. They (the books) say this is when it all kicks in, and they were right. Daniel was up taking care of me – holding my hair back and being supportive. I am so lucky to have him and this baby is so lucky to have him as a dad. We’re a lucky family! So…today is Sunday, September 24th. I am on the second day of my fifth week of pregnancy. We’re in our second month! Sometimes this all seems so surreal! The baby (our little rice grain) is 2 mm (according to the books) and will have a heartbeat this week. It’s brain is developing and so are all the other vital organs. We go to Thousand Oaks on Monday, October 9th to have an ultrasound. We’ll get to see the heartbeat (heartbeats?) and then we’ll share the news with everyone. In the mean time, I can’t bring myself to lie to people who ask if I’m pregnant…this is one secret I’m not very good at keeping.
Tuesday, September 26th – Changes: So far, I’ve had some strange cravings. V8 is my favorite drink right now. Spicy stuff no longer appeals to me. Chipotle is no longer my favorite fast food. I’m a huge fan of cheese still, thank goodness. Baked potatoes and asparagus have become my new favorite foods and I want spinach so bad I can taste it. Too bad spinach isn’t really readily available because of the e-coli outbreak. I think the strangest food development (and Daniel’s favorite) is my sudden like (notice how I can’t bring myself to say love?) of Chinese food. I’ve been requesting it and Daniel jumped at the chance to bring it home for dinner last night. Poor guy. He doesn’t usually get to eat it for dinner because I’m never “in the mood”. This baby is doing some weird stuff to my body.
In addition to new cravings, I’m feeling a lot of stretching and pulling in my lower abdomen and my uterus. I worry sometimes that the little pangs of pain I am feeling are harmful to the baby. I told Daniel last night I have never worried so much about someone in my life. He told me this was just the beginning and I know he’s right. I’ve been so emotional lately and so wrapped up in this little life inside of me. All the things people say about pregnancy seem so unreal until you are actually living it. I called our doctors office again today to make sure the pain I’m feeling is normal and they said not to worry. Seems like such a strange thing to tell a first time expectant mother.
Sometimes, I think Bailey knows her “mama” is pregnant. Ever since she was a pup, she’s been in sync with my health and my emotions. She has laid at my side many times while I’ve been sick in bed. She was with me as I dealt with losing Nana. Her favorite spot to be has always been the crook of my legs, but recently she has moved to my stomach. She rubs her whole body against my lower abdomen and then rolls around like a cat. Earlier today she sat in between my legs and rested the side of her head (and her big ear) on my tummy. She sat there calmly for a good 15 minutes. The sounds outside and Max were unable to distract her. It was odd. I wonder if she knows. I wonder if she has become as protective of this little one as she has been of me? I wonder if she can hear the little heart beating? Meanwhile, Max is as oblivious as ever. If he’s noticed anything new, it’s that his “mama” is eating a lot more than usual and still not sharing.
Thursday, October 5th – Baby names! Daniel and I have been doing a lot of thinking about what we would name the baby (babies?) since we first started trying. Connor & Zoe have long been our choices for first names. If we have a son, his middle name will be Leslie. It’s a family tradition on Daniel's side - first born son. We had seriously considered the name Finn instead, but I like the idea of keeping this tradition. Zoe has been a favorite name of mine for some time now. Angeline was my great grandmothers (Nana’s mother) middle name.
Monday, October 9th – A message from Daniel to our Texas friends: We had our first ultrasound today. The baby (not twins) is seven weeks along, and 10mm in length. We could see the heartbeat, and everything looked good. We won't know the gender of the baby for another three months or so. If it's a boy, we are planning on naming him Connor. If it's a girl, we will name her Zoe. So in the mean time we have decided to combine the two names into one. That's right - our baby will be known as Zocon! That's pronounced "Zo" rhymes with "sew" and "con" rhymes with "john"... I think it sounds very Flash Gordon.
Zocon, conqueror of Venus! In less than nine months time Zocon's fleet of inter-dimensional spaceships will invade the earth from the womb!
Beware the wrath of Zocon!
(Daniel is already thinking of plotlines of stories he wants to write for our baby. He's excited - and really looking forward to buying toys.)
First of all, our opening weekend of "The Full Monty" went great. The audiences seemed to love us and we all had a great time.
Secondly, I'm exhausted! So...I'm taking a brief hiatus from the blogging. The time will be spent performing "TFM" for three more weekends, rehearsing "Assassins", hosting friends & family over two different weekends, and trying to find time for some R&R.
I'll probably (definitely!)check in on your blogs and I'm likely to post Photo Friday submissions, but consider this lady on blog vacation until possibly the end of October**.
Til then, I leave you with the dog children:
**Let's make it October 10th. That gives me 2 days to recover from "TFM". I just can't stay away from this blog for too long!
Well, it's finally here. After weeks of rehearsals and trying to juggle everything going on in our lives right now...our show is opening tonight. I'm excited and nervous all at the same time. My character is fabulous. Boisterous. Fun. Loving. She's got a zest for life and she is a hoot to play. It's an excuse to wear leopard print with no abandon, have big hair (it's sort of flat in the pic below), and lots of sparkling jewelry. I get to Cha-Cha and sing two songs. I've been having a blast.
If all goes according to plan, this will be my last show for a while. At least the last one I have such a big role in. I'll be content with just being the photographer for the theatre and getting to be in the audience fora change. Ha! As I type this, I remember we start rehearsals for the next musical (Assassins) on Sunday night after our matinee for "The Full Monty". I'm assistant directing this one though, so it should be a little less stressful.
Anywho. I've been slacker blogger lately. My focus has been strained between this play and all the things I want to write and tell you all.* Soon.
Five years ago, I was living in San Diego. I was married to a horrible person and working 50 hours a week as a manager for a furniture/decor store.
On the morning of September 11, 2001 I was driving my 40 minute commute to the mall I worked at. I had a David Gray CD blaring from my stereo. Traffic was going somewhat faster than normal, but things were strange on the road. Military vehicles were racing down the freeway. I remember coming to a stop on the road and looking around to see people staring at their radios. People were crying. Men and women had their heads buried in their hands and I had been oblivious to it all listening to my CD.
I quickly switched to the radio and was shocked at the reports. Terrorist attacks? San Diego on alert? Other cities bracing themselves for possible attacks?
I kept driving the additional 15 minutes to the mall. I unlocked the store, shut off the alarm and put my stuff down. I turned on the radio we had in the back and I unlocked our safe. As I was counting the cash, the phone rang and I jumped. It was my boss. He asked me if I was OK and I burst into tears. I told him I was fine. He told me to get my stuff, lock up and go home. He said it was a time to be with my family, that he would call me when he knew when we would open up again. I walked around the store for a while longer. I straightened some displays; put some things away in the stockroom. I was in shock...and really, my store was the most comforting place for me back then.
My drive home was purposely slow. I cried for the city I'd never been to, for all those people and their family & friends. I worried for the few family members and friends I had in NY.
When I walked into my house, my ex was cooking. Singing. He had a movie on and he was smiling. He made some comment about how I'd be off work for a couple days and there was a lot to do in the house. He told me to change and come help him in the kitchen. I dropped my stuff on the ground and broke into uncontrollable sobs. He told me to calm down, that I didn't know anyone in NY. I quickly shut off his movie and turned it to the news. I remember telling him to not open his mouth again and I became engulfed in the reports.
I wasn't in New York, Washington or Pennsylvania - I do not know the terror or 9/11 first hand. But I could not take my eyes away from news reports and articles. I wanted to show my support for all those people. I felt connected to them, cried for them, felt a sense of pride for their bravery. I put a flag on my car and I wore my grandfathers Navy jacket as a security blanket. I called old friends and told them I loved them. I went to my parents house more. Life changed that day.
For me, 9/11 was the beginning of me waking up and realizing life was too short to continue on the path I was on. Those days showed me that my ex wasn't just horrible and ugly to me, he was just an evil person altogether. Seeing the reports on families searching for their loved ones, learning about what happened on flight 93...made me see that I'd been wasting the life I'd been given. I needed to prioritize and rekindle relationships with the people who mattered most in my life. I couldn't take the possibility of losing those people and them not knowing how much they meant to me.
This morning, I was afraid to get out of bed and turn on my computer. I was afraid of what new reports might be waiting for me to read. Instead of checking myself, I asked Daniel to look for me. When he told me everything was fine, I actually sighed with relief. A part of me has that feeling everyday; worried for what monstrosities are happening in our world now. I don't know if that feeling will ever go away...I do know I'll always remember this day in September and the days that followed.
After having a wonderful birthday last Thursday, Daniel and I got to help celebrate a very special birthday for our good friends daughter, Ellie. She turned two and I had the fun task of documenting it all on film. She's such a precious little one and I had a blast taking photographs at the "Princess Tea Party" and later that evening while she swam around like the bathing beauty that she is. I'll have to talk to her Dad about me posting a couple on here to share.
In the meantime I'll share the photo I'm thinking of putting on my Mac as a screensaver:
Oven roasted cherry tomatoes & ricotta cheese on top of garlic & oil brushed baguette slices. Our friends' mom made these Sunday night and I ate about half of the tray. SO good, I think I could eat these daily. My mouth is watering just thinking about them!
Anyway...Besides getting to give my photography as a gift, the experience made me think that I really could do this. There is a lot for me to learn still, but I'm up for the task. I can't imagine being a studio photographer, but I do enjoy getting to document an event as it happens...and I seem to be good at getting the shots and showing people looking their best. The coolest thing is, I find myself grinning as I'm clicking away with the camera. Sounds like a pretty awesome way to work, huh? We'll see where I take this.
Daniel and I were in San Diego visiting my parents for a couple days and celebrating my thirtieth. We'd planned on going to the Zoo, but we were short on time this trip. Instead, we went to the Birch Aquarium in La Jolla. In all my years visiting the area and living nearby, I'd never been. It was beautiful and I took tons of photos.
Here's one of the sardines. I thought they were a good example of the theme for this week: Silver
Today is the day I've been half dreading for a few years. 30. Thirty years old. The more I say it, the more accepting of it I am. And really, I don't get what made me so anxious about turning thirty. So far it's not so bad. Grey hair did not suddenly sprout from my head. I still feel young. I still get carded! I still get carded! Sorry, I felt the need to say that twice, it's fun to say.
So, I kiss my twenties goodbye. It was quite a decade. Marriage. Life of retail management. Home ownership. Divorce. Travel. Relocating to Bakersfield. Tons of mistakes and learning experiences. Bankruptcy. Theatre. Falling in love with Daniel. Getting diagnosed with RSD. Lots of doctor appointments/medical procedures. Marriage. Losing Nana. Trying to extend our family. Photography. Getting paid for my photography. There were some really tough times in there, but looking back: the good outweighs the bad. The wonderful memories are more vivid than the crappy ones. I'm proud of who I've become in the past thirty years and I'm looking forward to everything this next decade has to offer.
A friend told me the other day that 30 was the new 20. Maybe. I know I feel more confident and excited for the future now then I did ten years ago. I also feel a little bit wiser and a lot more grateful for everything I have and the people in my life. So. Yeah. I'm not dreading being thirty anymore...not even a little bit. Cheers!
*Cake, please. Oh, and how about that new banner and colors?! Thank you, Ali! I love it!
I think it might have been my early exposure to late night showings of 'The Legend of Lizzie Borden', 'The Exorcist' or 'Gremlins'. It might have been those freaky Vincent Price movies I caught glimpses of. I'm pretty sure seeing 'Critters' when I was eleven years old was a bad idea. Those"critters" still freak me out. The fact is, I hate scary movies. I don't like the gore. I can't stand the screaming. That tight feeling I get all over my body : tension, panic. I can totally do without all of it. Honestly, I don't get the fascination people have with spending money to be scared. Lucky for me, I married a guy who shares my distaste for the horror genre.
Daniel and I have a good friend that says we "secretly love scary movies". Um. No. No we don't. He says that our affinity for 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel' proves that we at least like scary movies. I argue that Buffy & Angel are television shows and do not get as scary as say...something like 'Hostel'. The entire point of those shows is not to scare the bejezzus out of me. Oh no, Joss Whedon includes humor, angst, romance and drama. His stuff doesn't scare me, so it can't be horror.
That same friend called us last week to invite us to go see 'The Descent'. "What's that?" And then I remembered the trailer. "That's supposed to be the scariest movie ever! No way!" Our friend and his girlfriend kept prodding. They told me it wouldn't be that bad. They told me I'd like it. They even went so far as to say that scary movies are an aphrodisiac and seeing 'The Descent' (coupled with some raw oysters) just might help us conceive...that night when we got home. Heh. Well, first of all....being scared out of my wits does NOT put me in the mood. Secondly, I bet our specialist would disagree with that theory. Third, the timing was ALL off for the baby making. So we declined and I think we ended up watching the 'Blade' series off of iTunes.
I know what you might be thinking. Blade? Isn't that about vampires? Yep. For some strange reason, vampires don't scare me. I like the cheesiness of 'Blade' and the bad acting doesn't bother me. The blood doesn't bother me either. Maybe it's because it's just a tv show and they don't go as far as the movies do. I was obsessed with vampires when I was in high school. Francis Ford Coppola's 'Dracula' came out my Junior year and it sent me in a flurry. I read all the Anne Rice books. I had scary movie stills and posters posted all over my room (along with Madonna and fairies). I couldn't wait for the disappointment that was 'Interview With the Vampire' to come out. My parents were probably worried for a while there. It was a little creepy. Anyway, I got over the obsession but I guess it sort of explains why I like Buffy & Angel too.
So, what is the draw? Is watching a horror movie about facing your fears? I'm afraid of snakes - so will watching 'Snakes on a Plane' help me overcome my fear? No. And that's not the point at all, right. It's entertainment, silly.
For some people. For me, watching the trailer is enough and sometimes even that it too much. For instance, I decided to watch the new trailer for 'The Grudge 2' yesterday. It's got Buffy alum S.M.G. and it's the sequel to a remake of a Japanese horror film set in Tokyo. You've heard of it, I'm sure. So I watched the whole preview and jumped a few times, but it wasn't that bad. Minutes later I'm in my kitchen doing dishes and I jump because I heard a dripping noise. A dripping noise from a sponge I didn't ring out made me jump! No scary movies for me. Not gonna do it. Ever. Again.
This post brought to you by the letter "W" for wimp or wuss and the letter "S" for Scaredy-Cat. Also by the letter "B" for bejezzus...because it's fun to say. I like the double z's.
I think Daniel and I are good neighbors. One, we don't leave clutter out on our porch or lawn (like the guy down the street who has a VERY large model of a battleship). Two, we make sure our yard looks good by paying a nice gardener to take care of it weekly. Three, we 're friendly...you know, we wave every once in a while. Four, we don't throw wild, crazy all night parties. Five, we don't play our music loud. Six, we don't argue so the whole neighborhood can hear like the crazy people across the street. Seven, I try to keep the dogs quiet. Eight, we don't park in front of their house even if they park in front of ours (and steal Daniel's spot). Nine, the dog children don't use other lawns as their bathroom area. And ten...I can't think of a number 10, but trust me we're good neighbors to have.
I guess that's why I get so annoyed with our neighbors.
On one side of us we have a very old couple who is barely ever home. Aside from this one time the little old lady jumped out from behind a tree to talk to me, we haven't had barely any contact with them. Occasionally I see her hiding in the bushes, but whatever. They're quiet and nice enough....and they seem to really like their foliage.
I'm constantly annoyed by the family that lives on the other side of us. Sure, they're friendly enough...it's not that. It's all the work they do on their house - at seven in the morning. It's the people they hire to fix their roof who I catch staring into my bathroom as I'm about to get ready for a shower. They don't let us know that they'll be having work done to their house or apologize about the noise until the work had already been going on for a couple days. To me, that is too little too late. I'm patient and I avoid confrontation at all costs, but there have been times when I just wish they would go away.
So, they're moving. YAY! They sold their house and will be gone by Sunday. I wish it were sooner. Three times this week they have knocked on our door before 9 am. This morning I looked in our backyard to see what the dogs were freaking out about and lo - there was some exterminator guy walking through my backyard and he'd left the back gate wide open. Grrr. Oh, and to get that yellow and blue tent up on their rotting garage they took down two pieces of our fence without permission. My dogs may annoy me sometimes and I might threaten to give them away after I find a big hole in my sofa, but I do not want my little munchkins running away. Go ahead, wake me up. Disturb me before I've had a chance to properly get out of my morning funk. Let your contractors peep in my windows! But don't you mess with my dogs safety! Damn it! Exclamation point, Exclamation Point!!
This post brought to you by the letter "C" for cranky, the letter "E" for emotional, and the letter "H" for hormones. Oh, and also the letter "G" for GRRRRR.
This past June marked my fourth year in Bakersfield. I moved here from San Diego after sleeping on an old futon in my parents’ living room for 7 months. I'd left behind a horrible marriage and was ready to start a new life. Bakersfield seemed like the logical place to go.
Why? That was pretty much everyone's question. No one understood, least of all my parents or my former employers. I was leaving behind a good paying job, friends, my family and San Diego for Bakersfield? Why not L.A. or Chicago (where I had job offers)? Why not stay in San Diego? What was there to do in Bakersfield?
The main draw for me was that I'd be living with my best friend from high school. We'd be able to do all the things I missed out on doing before. Moving in with her and her roommate was instant family, instant friends. It was living in my own space with two girls I thought the world of and being included in theirs. It was late night Rusty's delivery, Ouji board nights, eating out almost every night and always having a friend to talk to. Four years ago, Bakersfield was my place to start over. It was small enough that I didn't feel like I would be swallowed whole and I liked the proximity to L.A and San Diego. Everyone was so friendly and I felt like I belonged here for some reason. I moved here wide-eyed and ready for new beginnings and second chances. Bakersfield ended up being where I found me again.
If you ask me on a bad day what I think of Bakersfield, I'll probably correct you and call it Bakers-Hell. I might roll my eyes (I hear I do that sometimes) and I'll probably tell you I wish we lived somewhere else. I miss San Diego - the Zoo, Balboa Park, the ocean and downtown. I miss The Old Globe theatre, the museums and La Jolla. Sometimes I wish we could just pick up and move to Chicago (where I lived for 3 years) just to be near all the museums, Navy Pier, Michigan Ave., the great architecture and all of those great theatres. Other times, I wish Daniels work would relocate us to Houston just so we could have the adventure of being in a new place and closer proximity to our friends in Austin and surrounding areas. But that's just on a bad day. I don't really think Bakersfield is hell. As much as we daydream about leaving, we've had some good times here.... we’ve made a home, good friends and great memories. There are times when I look around and wonder why we're here...but other times where I'm grateful I made the sudden decision to start over here. My life would be so different if I'd chosen the other options.
I think when we finally do leave, that I will miss the Spotlight Theatre the most. I realized it today when I was eating in the cafe.... so many of the great things that have happened to me in the past four years have happened because of that place.
Four years ago, I walked nervously into the lobby of the Spotlight for my first audition in gosh, eight years! It was for a reader’s theatre version of Letters Home and I got the part of Sylvia Plath. We only had one performance and only about five people (other than my parents, Nana and my roommates) showed, but it felt so good to feel the lights again. I was so happy to be a part of a production after so long that I cried when I got off stage. It was a good night...that has led to my involvement in many other productions.
A couple months later, I was cast in Commedia del Arte where I met Daniel. He and I became fast friends and before the run of the show had ended, we'd admitted to each other (and the rest of our cast) that we'd fallen in love. The show may not have been the best thing either of us has ever done, but it will always be my favorite because it's what brought us together...and we made some good friends (like Kevan Klawitter...who we miss dearly).
Last December I was asked by director Julie Jordan Scott to photograph a dress rehearsal for "The Miracle on 34th Street" at the Spotlight. That night was an amazing night for me because it was a way for me to be involved creatively in theatre even if I wasn't a part of the cast. I loved catching all the actors expressions and movement...I loved the feeling of holding my camera for more of a purpose than just photographing my dogs and flowers. After that night, I was hooked and volunteered myself for other productions... which led to me doing the same thing for "The Underpants", "The Thing About Men" and more recently "The History of Rock & Roll".
Every show I've been involved with there, no matter if I were audience member, photographer, cast or crew.... has given me friends, great memories and important lessons. I've become a stronger person directly and indirectly because of that place. I have pushed myself and learned a lot about who I am and what I am capable of. Four years ago, I never would have imagined myself as the photographer for the Spotlight. I would never have believed it if someone would tell me I'd fall in love with a cast member - and marry them! I walked into that lobby just wanting to be a part of something again - I guess I got my wish.
So... I guess wherever we end up someday, I can honestly say that Bakersfield has been good for me. Despite what people may say or believe, Bakersfield has a lot to offer if you know where to look...for me, it was in a little theatre on 19th street.
What were you doing 1 second ago? Leaving a comment on Nanette's blog about quickies. What? She tagged me. What were you doing an hour ago? Locking the dogs up in their crate because they wouldn't stop harassing the gardeners. What were you doing yesterday? Attending a "candle party". Shut up. It was fun. What were you doing a month ago? Starting a plethora of hormones to help us make a baby. Going to ComicCon. Just so you know: Hormones + Heat + 1000's of people at a comic book convention = Cranky Keely. Don't get me started on that damn green stroller. What were you doing a year ago? Recovering from our wedding and honeymoon. Thinking very seriously about getting another dog child to keep Bailey company help Bailey destroy our house.
What were you doing five years ago? Living in San Diego. Managing a furniture store. Getting a divorce. Good times. What were you doing ten years ago? Living in Chicago. Who would you like to tag? Jen.Mel.MatildaKay. And anyone else who wants to share.
I love our dogs. Some people might say I love our dogs too much...and to that I'd say: maybe. It's no secret that I consider these dogs family. They are my pseudo children. I know, it may sound a little silly...but part of me feels like I'm a mom already because of these rascals. And when I say rascals, I mean evil spawn. It's gotta be motherly love that gets me through the havoc they reap in public and on our home.
Just a few days ago, we came home to find a two inch hole in our new sectional. We know it was Max because he had sofa stuffing stuck to his lip. I also have a sneaking suspicion that this was retaliation for taking his blessed Lazy Boy recliner away. He loved that thing. I could have screamed, but instead I just laughed. Screaming wouldn't have turned back time and saved my couch. It might have felt good, but laughing felt better.
In all fairness, Bailey hasn't done anything bad in quite a while...most of her episodes were when she was a puppy. She's matured a lot. I mean, she whines like a little baby if we don't play with her on her schedule and she won't turn her back on the chance to eat a bra...but she's a good girl.
We try to take Max with a grain of salt. He just barely had his first birthday and he's still learning what is acceptable behavior and not. I think most of his issues stem from eating. Max is always a hungry boy. As demonstrated, he can't seem to resist anything. It's all food to him...even my sofa. Maybe it's our fault for putting him on a diet? it seems he's found the need to supplement his abbreviated diet with bookcases, sofas, oh...and occasionally a nice poo snack. Our friend Alison calls him Poo Daddy.
Since shipping them off isn't an option, we just love them. Unfortunately, we can't really sit them down and explain that destroying our furniture is bad. We can't force them to get a job or do chores to pay off the damage they've done. Spanking and yelling doesn't help if we don't catch them in the act. So, we just love them - flaws and all.
And I look up obedience classes to enroll them in.
Last Saturday afternoon, Daniel and I checked into the Hilton Gaslamp in downtown San Diego. We relaxed and then got ready to go to the theatre to see Wicked. My husband ironed his shirt for the first time in ages and I did my hair and makeup. It was an event. We looked good. I should have taken a picture of us.
When we got down to the lobby, we asked the guy at the front desk what the quickest way to the Civic Theatre was. He suggested we walk since it was just a turn to the left and then 4 blocks away. Four blocks later, we were at the Pacific movie theater. Clearly, I need to annunciate better. We kept walking for a few more blocks, made another left and arrived at our destination with time to consume bottled water and a cheese tray for two before we took our seats.
The show was fabulous. It was an amazing experience to see those characters come alive after being a huge fan of the Wizard of Oz movie and the Wicked book. I felt like a little girl watching every scene with anticipation for what would come next. I was mesmerized by the voices, acting, costumes, set and lighting. It was awesome!
Sorry. I must interrupt this post to bring you this list:
How To Be a Bad Theatregoer & Drive Keely Crazy
1. Complain about how awful you think your seat is (in the front orchestra) while there are little kids sitting in the nose bleed section of the theatre excited just to be at a theatre.
2. Arrive at the theatre late.
3. When arriving late, (instead of waiting until intermission to take your seat) walk slowly and upright to your seat as the play is going on. Pause and watch the action (blocking the people behind you) if something really cool seems to be happening on stage.
4. Stake your claim on both of the armrests and elbow the person sitting next to you frequently.
5. If you cant see the action on stage, go ahead and just lean into the personal space of the person next to you.
6. Huff, puff, sigh deeply and yawn loudly so that everyone knows how much you hate your seat and how bored or tired you are.
7. Have a conversation with the person next to you during the show.
8. Take numerous photos of the actors on stage and illuminate the space around you with the bright green light from your camera.
9. Wear so much perfume/cologne that the people around you want to gag.
Seriously. What gives? Are people so ignorant or am I just hyper sensitive to all of this? As much as I loved getting to see Wicked, a part of my experience was tarnished because a lady sitting next to me did 6 of the nine things on my little list up there. I ended up switching places with Daniel during intermission because I was so close to telling her to get her elbows and hands (HANDS!) off of me. To hear her talk before the show, youd think she was a regular audience member, so shouldnt she have known better? OY!
We now return to a calmer, happier Keely:
Oh well. I still loved the show. Getting to be a part of theatre is always special to me, whether I am sitting in the audience or acting on stage. I am consumed by all of the creativity. A clear sign that I enjoyed the show and the actors is when I get teary during their curtain call. I don't know if its the camaraderie I feel for them or what but its a little embarrassing. Last Saturday night, I got just a little choked up...and it wasn't because of the smelly lady sitting next to me.
Oh - real fast. In "Getting Pregnant News": Last night Daniel told me he'd seen my blog post yesterday and he thanked me for what I wrote. He went on to tell me that he's actually "sort of excited" to be giving me injections in the stomach again. I told him "Cool, I'm glad that's fun for you!" The man cracks me up! He says things on a regular basis that I wish I could share with y'all, but it's not family friendly. Anyway, I figure if sticking my stomach with a little needle is fun for him - then I'm glad...some couples might consider that a stressor in their relationship. Not us. As much as we want to be pregnant and have a baby, we're enjoying every bit of our time and keeping our sense of humor about...well, everything. I think having the first round of treatment not work was good for me. Sure, I would love for the next pregnancy test I take to be positive...but eventually it will be.