Lizabean

10 things

Me doing my thing, taken by the talented Heather

A while back I was tagged by my lovely sister Suzanne.  The rules are to name ten things you like about yourself.  What a challenge!  Initially all I could think of were a couple of physical attributes.  There are some that I was embarrassed to share because I'm used to beating back the things I like about being me for fear of becoming big headed.  But I'm gonna because it's a good exercise.  Here goes:

1.  I have very pretty eyes.

2. I am sensitive to the feelings/motives of people and used to use that skill pretty damn well during my brief acting days.

3.  I take good photographs.

4.  I have a very difficult time telling lies-- big or small.  I guess that makes me rather honest.

5.  While this sometimes comes in conflict with #4, I am a very good secret keeper.

6. I am an organized,tidy and efficient little bee at work.

7.  I like the little songs I make up for toddlers and babies.  They seem to like them too.

8.  I like it when I'm goofy.  It's a rare occasion but I like the me that I am when my guard is that far down.

9.  I am usually a very polite and considerate shopper/consumer. 

10.  I surprised myself with making such dietary changes this summer.  I like that such self discipline exists within me! 

Alrighty, your turn!  If you have a blog do it and let the rest of know in the comments section.  Or leave your ten things directly through a comment. While a little unnerving at first, it gives you that "hey, I'm a pretty decent person" feeling after wards.  Good stuff.   

 

Into the new day

Into the new day, originally uploaded by liza-bean.

I photographed my first wedding this early August. As I am so NOT into any second trimester glory days (false alarm on that previous post!), it's taken me weeks to start to edit the pictures. Initially I told myself that that was my first and final wedding. It was exhausting, people. But also really exciting. There were moments when I really fell into the whole creative process of it all. I had been worried that my nerves would prevent me from taking anything other than snapshots. Yet in the middle of it all I found myself trying out new angles, new shots. And making mistakes (like the above photograph) that suprised me. It was exhilariting!

I took 300 pictures and most of them were crappy. Which, of course, is why I took 300. My initial run through of the shots left me disappointed. Three weeks later I started mining for the gems. Ah, the editing. And the cropping. And the tweaking.

Now I am much more happier with the results and am hoping the couple feels the same.

This whole summer I have struggled to pick up my camera. My creative energy was being expended elsewhere. I missed the joy I usually find in taking and editing pictures. It was nice to rediscover it.

5 signs that the glory days of my second trimester are quickly approaching*

*a.k.a. The days in which babybean will take a small break from kicking mommy's butt.

1.  The daily morning yack has occasionally been replaced with much milder dry heaving.

2.  I think about taking a shower.  And then I actually take one.

3.  I even use body wash:

"Beauty tip #1 from my former housemate and brother-in-law Robbie", Canon Digital Rebel XT, August 2007

4.  I've started thinking in terms of picture-taking adventures again.  This may simply involve taking pictures of mundane household items.  (As evidenced above.)

5. I've discovered an "aha!" use for loose fitting bikini bottoms.  When worn on top of underwear and folded over unbuttoned, somewhat unzipped pants, my belly is happy.  (Can you tell, Faranak, that I have yet to make that shopping trip?)

"My version of the BellaBand", Canon Digital Rebel XT, August 2007

Wow, two posts in less than 24 hours.  Next up:  less pregnancy talk and more news about my upcoming job!

 

2 years in the waiting

Inside-out at 12 weeks, originally uploaded by liza-bean.

Two years ago I was pregnant with my first, not to be born, but my first nonetheless.  She whispered to me in my prayers a few nights ago.  Do not be sad that I could not be with you longer.  Do not feel guilty for the depth of love you find yourself feeling for this new life.  I helped send him to you.  You are allowed to let me go.  You could always let me go.

And life comes full circle.   It was the exact same technician who briskly told me during that dark moment years ago, "We should see a baby by now.  It's an empty sac.", who today said, "Do you see his hand near his face?  I think he's sucking his thumb!", or those always magical words, "what a strong heartbeat".  Two years ago she broke my heart; today it finally melted and mended.

What felt like a lifetime of sorrow, now feels like a small glitch in this quest toward parenthood, toward  growing a family.

I'm am joyous, am grateful, astonished, and even slightly apprehensive of this beauty that has finally arrived.  Our miracle, our love, our babybean.

This time it was all clickety, clacky

First of all, thank you to all who have commented or sent me an email.  It feels so wonderful to be sharing such great news.  Today was a big day for me and Brent.  The big 12 weeks and our second dr.'s appointment.  I was a wreck toward the end of the day and had a few bouts of crying on the drive to the office.  I was somewhat relieved when I got my favorite nurse, a bit terrified when it took a while to hear anything with that darn doppler thingy, and absolutely ecstatic when that blessed doppler thingy let us hear that beautiful, healthy heartbeat.  I let out an audible sigh of relief as my doctor patted my arm and Brent held back tears (it was his first time listening to our babe).

It's looking really good here, folks.

Oh my gosh, we're actually gonna have a baby!*

*I am still fully aware that life gives us no guarantees.  But, my goodness, it's about time I start to embrace some optimism here!

Waiting for The Answer

This summer's plea and question: Please, God, let this be our time.  Is it our turn, yet?

Some women claim to know they are pregnant well before it can be medically determined.  I never felt any different; with the first, second, possibly third, I could only hope.  With this one, I was so sure a few days after potential conception.  I knew I could be dead wrong but oh I felt so positive. 

My first real hints that this could be happening came during my week in Minnesota.  Among some other signs, I couldn't stand the way things smelled.  My mom commented on my sensitivity and I made a mental note to stop whining about Matthew's stank from the lake or that reek coming from the fridge.  I knew I was pregnant but my mind was like a yo-yo.  This is IT.  No it's not, you're loony.  This will end.  Not it won't because this is IT. 

I called her Lillian for those five days, during week 3 of this journey, 100% convinced in all girlishness. Brent vetoed the name quickly over the phone but I whispered to the babe:  He'll come around.   He hasn't.  (But we've found different names.  Agreed upon immediately. Even a boy's name!)

I took the test five minutes upon my return from Minnesota.  Pregnant, it screamed back at me.  Neither of us were surprised but I whimpered and cried with relief nonetheless.

That was week 4.  I pleaded then for this pregnancy to feel different.

Week 7:

And it has.  I know I am not the only pregnant woman to beam joyously after yacking up breakfast in the toilet; although I imagine that reaction may be slightly rare.  I've never felt so grateful for feeling so crappy.  Bring it on hormones, bring it on.  Go baby, go.

Still, I know it could end any minute.  We wait to see the heart beat before remotely celebrating.  Even after, I know this hope will always be guarded.  So much can go wrong.  I've been the Statistic before, I could be it again.

And we wait to announce.  I want people to know there's a good chance this one will work out before sharing the news.  I want happiness, not worry. 

So here we are.  Waiting for the answer.  Sipping mint tea and trying to keep breakfast down.  Aah. That feels good.

---

Ummm, yeah, unsuccessful with that attempt, if I recall correctly.

The best sound in the world:  Woosh.  Woosh.  Woosh.

"That's your baby," the doctor said, "what a beautiful, strong heartbeat."

Our baby looked like a blob (the most beautiful blob in the world, mind you) and I squealed with delight when I saw the spinal cord.  And softly sobbed with relief.  A recurrent theme, no?

8 weeks, 3 days of the hopeful 40.

I'm in love.

----

8 weeks, 5 days.  The purchase of ginger tea.  Now that's absolute heaven.

----

9 weeks, 4 days.  No longer beaming after the 8:15 and 9:15 appointments with the toilet but grateful nonetheless.  Did I really just throw my neck out from all that yacking?

It's been a week since my last shower.  Not sure if I can brave the smells of it... but will as I'm not sure people can brave the smells of me any longer.

---

On my chart it read "Habitual aborter".  There's a few things involving some physical pain that I'd like to do to the people who coined that phrase.  The cruelty of those words.  Like I am in the habit of rejecting my babies.  I reject that label!  I deny the implications that this baby doesn't have the same chances as any other.  My body and babies have never come this far before.  I try to squelch my fears that it will end soon.  I know a miscarriage can happen.  I need to stop waiting for the moment that it will.

I choose hope. That's my mantra these days.  At 9 weeks, 6 days.

----

A conversation over the phone:

Nurse: Is this your first?

Silent pause while I falter for words.

Nurse (irritated): You know, is this your first, second baby??

Me: This is my third pregnancy.

What a loaded question for me, which I'm sure I'll be getting alot. Even the pregnancy one. My chart reads two miscarriages. There was a third that the nurse and doctor claim was just a misread home pregnancy test; okay, so I guess I won't count that one. It's confusing, not knowing how many times you've conceived and then lost. It's easier to just go with what the chart says. It currently reads pregnant so I guess I really am ;)

----

I have a cute little baby bump now. After a meal I make Brent gasp and am told I look more like 20 weeks rather than the actual 10 (and 3 days!). Brent wants to go out and get me some maternity pants. (I have a tendency to go around the house with my pants unbuttoned these days.) But I hesitate. I want to see the baby again before making this even more real. Ahh, the mental agony of waiting during pregnancy after miscarriages.

----

I write this a few days before we leave for Minnesota.  We'll be telling our families the moment we get there.  A week shy of the traditional 12 weeks, it's true, but we can't hold out any longer.  We've told a few people already, and each time I have to shake off the feeling that I've jinxed it all.  I hold on to that image and sound of our baby and find comfort. 

The nice little thing about blogging is you can choose when to publish your entries.  It's a big step for me.  Setting the dates when these entries will be published.  I choose hope and select "Publish On...".

While I won't be fully certain until I get to hold our baby, the answer ,so far, has been yes.

A new, hopeful path we're treading

"Inside-out at 8 weeks, 3 days", Ultrasound equipment & Canon Digital Rebel XT, July 2007

I did mention, did I not, that this summer is such a good thing?

For Katie

Family at sunset (b/w), originally uploaded by liza-bean.

And Nathan :)

Katie asked me if I'd upload my photos of her daughter before we left for Minnesota. I made no promises- not the best response, I admit- but have followed through. Check out the rest of this adorable new family on my flickr page.