Ahh, lousy news. My grandma down in Florida fell last night, and has broken her pelvis. Arrggh!
Very little news at this point, but she seems fine, although very uncomfortable. I don't know if it's constant or just a result of movement, but when my Uncle Bill carried her into the house, she passed out from the pain. Poor Helen!
I was online trying to find out some information about pelvis injuries, when I happened upon the blog of a lady who rides horses. Her horse threw her, apparently, and she ended up with a fractured pelvis. She's managed to get around decently in a wheelchair during her recovery, and I found this entry to be very entertaining, about going to the mall...
"When we approached the elevators to get back to the parking garage there was a line. Not a line of wheelchairs or even strollers. There was a line of fat people. Now, I’m not a svelte person but these were people in danger of having their abdomens filmed for a news report on obesity in America. They were sort of milling around until I pulled up in the wheelchair. Then they formed a line and studiously did not look at the person in the wheelchair. When the elevator came and they piled on and there was no room for the person in the wheelchair, they all looked away. The doors closed and the husband yelled, “You all should take the stairs!” For some reason the elevator came back to our level and opened with the same people on it. I looked pitiful and the husband said that if they had taken the stairs they’d have been there by now.
I think that we should take turns from now on going to the mall with the wheelchair. Shaming lazy people is a blast."
- http://www.spiritblog.net/?p=502
My grandma was just telling us how she wanted to get rid of the Rascal scooter that was taking up space after the passing of my grandfather... hopefully, if she still has it, she could get some use out of it while she heals. Poor sweet Grandma. She's going to turn 90 in October and she was planning to come to Port Clinton for a huge celebration in her honor, with a rented condo for she and Aunt Kathy to stay in, and lots of food and a family marathon of Jon and Kate Plus Eight (we're all fans now!). With a little luck and some helpful healing prayers maybe she could still make the trip. I want to go down and help, or at least be around to cheer her up, but she'll be recovering in the wilderness of northern Florida where first-time pregnant ladies are not advised to go in their final trimester (advised, by husbands and midwives, at least). *Sigh*
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Jumpy, Swimmy, Kicky
Our baby has opened a clay-shooting range inside my womb. It has friends over between about 9 and 11:30 p.m., almost every night, and they jump, chase each other, and then I think they even do that thing teenagers do when you try to rock the car at stoplights... but instead they're rocking my uterus!
You can see it on the outside. It jolts. The whole thing will pop up, and then suddenly shift abruptly to the left. If it were a seismic plate you could measure it on the Richter scale, but sadly I am not a geological phenomenon and can only judge it by my own personal "holy CRAP!" meter. Last night was a new all-time high.
I think some are hiccups, because lots of the movement is relatively rhythmic. I like those a lot, because they are the closest to predictable. Otherwise, except for the higher likelihood of having all this jumping and bumping happen after dinner or before going to bed, I really have absolutely no control over what this child inside me does. And that is scary... interesting... even prophetic. It's not me. It's it's own person, even now.
You can see it on the outside. It jolts. The whole thing will pop up, and then suddenly shift abruptly to the left. If it were a seismic plate you could measure it on the Richter scale, but sadly I am not a geological phenomenon and can only judge it by my own personal "holy CRAP!" meter. Last night was a new all-time high.
I think some are hiccups, because lots of the movement is relatively rhythmic. I like those a lot, because they are the closest to predictable. Otherwise, except for the higher likelihood of having all this jumping and bumping happen after dinner or before going to bed, I really have absolutely no control over what this child inside me does. And that is scary... interesting... even prophetic. It's not me. It's it's own person, even now.
Friday, April 11, 2008
International Baby Mania, Part 2
Well, Saby's friend's wife gave birth yesterday to a little baby girl. No c-section, yaaay!
Recently we've found out that cousin Sunil's sister is expecting her second. Now another Babi (Dhanya's sister) is expecting her first. And another India cousin, Reema (I think) is expecting her first as well.
When it rains, it pours, baby!
Recently we've found out that cousin Sunil's sister is expecting her second. Now another Babi (Dhanya's sister) is expecting her first. And another India cousin, Reema (I think) is expecting her first as well.
When it rains, it pours, baby!
The Amazing Inflatable Transparent Woman
Long time, no write!
In whatever that gap of time has been, I've developed a lovely and very obviously pregnant belly. No more wondering by strangers if I'm potato shaped because of a thyroid condition, hump back, or just horrible posture... I'm probably just about at that point where strangers will try touching me soon. One prohibitive issue to that is that I seem to be carrying high, and my breasts seem to be consuming my belly. I don't want some grandfather in Cub Foods with 80-year old depth perception to lovingly pat one of my boobs!
Instead of the little pixie belly that you see on some (mostly taller) women, I've got a decently oval shaped bump that wants desperately to see what's going on around my chesticle area, and keeps expanding upwards. My fundus jumped over what seems like a span of 2 weeks from being below my belly button to knocking at the door of my second ribs. So the on-ramp leaving normal-shaped me, heading towards the hilly highway o' birthing, ascends from just beneath the band of my bra to a pinnacle that has yet to be measured, since it hurts my hip and butt to lay flat on my back :-)
Although, speaking of that... funny thing. It hurts (hurt being relative too... it is often quite uncomfortable) to lay on my back if my buttocks and hips are flat down on any surface... ultrasound table, exam table, bed, floor, futon, even couch. So I go to sleep, like many pregnant women, propped up into a very unnatural-yet-comfortable state with pillows: one behind my back, one about half under my belly, one between my legs, and one and a half under my head. With each subsequent visit to the bathroom in the night, one of these pillows drops off the priority list and usually physically drops off the bed. More often than not I wake up in the morning, FLAT on my back. Or sometimes even on my stomach - go figure. Now other than the hurty-painy thing, prego-chicks are not advised to sleep on their backs anytime after about 16 weeks, because the weight of the uterus can impede the flow of blood down a major vein heading to your legs and artery heading back out to your heart. Dizziness and freaked-out, oxygen deprived babies can apparently result. Other sources say to sleep however you are comfortable. Apparently my body is listening to the latter, especially after about 4am.
And waking up. That's been interesting as well. Thanks to our Hypnobirthing class, we have these fabulous cds to which we can listen - one is called "Birthing Affirmations" and is followed by the Rainbow Relaxation script, which leads you through all these different visualizations that help you relax in order to have a more pain-free labor and birth. Both are very relaxing, although the first makes Saby giggle because there are three different instances of "My cervix is opening as my body prepares to bring my baby into the world." Even in class, I heard the Rainbow Relaxation script about 1/4th of the way through, because to me, it just screams "GO TO SLEEEEEEP!" So listening to these at bedtime, while drifting off to sleep, has resulted (for me at least) in the most delicious, beautiful slumber. Waking me up is like bringing someone out of a coma. I've slept through my alarm, Saby's alarm, thunderstorms, and most recently, the temperature of our room dropping to about 45 after I'd left the window open with the fan in it. Saby "Hot-Bunz" George, who runs a constant body temperature about 10 degrees higher than me, woke up freezing. He stumbled around the bed to shut the window and stopped, expecting to see either my lifeless, frozen body on the other side, or an empty spot I'd abandoned in order to go and crawl into the oven... but there I was, completely and utterly oblivious to any climate change and hibernating like a bear.
As I drifted back to dreamworld this morning after Saby left for work, I wondered how long this beautiful ability to sleep is going to last. Even after Saby goes, I am definitely no longer alone in bed... there are two of us, and more, we joke. Saby's theory is that our baby not only is very active, but is also very naughty, and has friends sneak over late at night. They then stay awake playing even after we've gone to sleep. This morning, our child seems to have been hosting some sort of track and field event with it's friends. (Maybe a March of Dimes event?) I was very dimly aware that my belly was jumping - literally JUMPING - on an axis perpendicular to my body, as if Spampy baby were laying across the uterus and doing some variation of a tap dance routine where arms, legs and head would all jolt out at the same time. Ka-poom. Ka-poom. Like a very violent muscle twitch. I'm not sure if the kid calmed down or whether sleep just got the better of me, but it really is pretty amazing having somebody inside of you, even if they are running relays with friends.
It's doing it now, too!!
BUT, the strangest new development I've noticed is that I'm the amazing transparent woman. Like those plastic figures that are part fertility goddess, part anatomy-teaching tool, where you can see all of their veins? That's me. Life size. I stepped out of the shower yesterday and was giving myself the visual once over and stretch mark lotion rub down. Once upon a time I had noticed crazy veins running to and from my growing boobies... well them veins are EVERYWHERE now. Not varicose veins, mind you. My actual, normal veins and arteries must be running at extra high capacity, thanks to all the extra bloody pregnancy makes you have, and that combined with the freakish paleness of spring are resulting in my stomach and sides looking like a Rand McNally atlas of Kentucky.
So between that and the growth spurt, I feel like the fabulous inflatable transparent woman! Come see me grow!!
In whatever that gap of time has been, I've developed a lovely and very obviously pregnant belly. No more wondering by strangers if I'm potato shaped because of a thyroid condition, hump back, or just horrible posture... I'm probably just about at that point where strangers will try touching me soon. One prohibitive issue to that is that I seem to be carrying high, and my breasts seem to be consuming my belly. I don't want some grandfather in Cub Foods with 80-year old depth perception to lovingly pat one of my boobs!
Instead of the little pixie belly that you see on some (mostly taller) women, I've got a decently oval shaped bump that wants desperately to see what's going on around my chesticle area, and keeps expanding upwards. My fundus jumped over what seems like a span of 2 weeks from being below my belly button to knocking at the door of my second ribs. So the on-ramp leaving normal-shaped me, heading towards the hilly highway o' birthing, ascends from just beneath the band of my bra to a pinnacle that has yet to be measured, since it hurts my hip and butt to lay flat on my back :-)
Although, speaking of that... funny thing. It hurts (hurt being relative too... it is often quite uncomfortable) to lay on my back if my buttocks and hips are flat down on any surface... ultrasound table, exam table, bed, floor, futon, even couch. So I go to sleep, like many pregnant women, propped up into a very unnatural-yet-comfortable state with pillows: one behind my back, one about half under my belly, one between my legs, and one and a half under my head. With each subsequent visit to the bathroom in the night, one of these pillows drops off the priority list and usually physically drops off the bed. More often than not I wake up in the morning, FLAT on my back. Or sometimes even on my stomach - go figure. Now other than the hurty-painy thing, prego-chicks are not advised to sleep on their backs anytime after about 16 weeks, because the weight of the uterus can impede the flow of blood down a major vein heading to your legs and artery heading back out to your heart. Dizziness and freaked-out, oxygen deprived babies can apparently result. Other sources say to sleep however you are comfortable. Apparently my body is listening to the latter, especially after about 4am.
And waking up. That's been interesting as well. Thanks to our Hypnobirthing class, we have these fabulous cds to which we can listen - one is called "Birthing Affirmations" and is followed by the Rainbow Relaxation script, which leads you through all these different visualizations that help you relax in order to have a more pain-free labor and birth. Both are very relaxing, although the first makes Saby giggle because there are three different instances of "My cervix is opening as my body prepares to bring my baby into the world."
As I drifted back to dreamworld this morning after Saby left for work, I wondered how long this beautiful ability to sleep is going to last. Even after Saby goes, I am definitely no longer alone in bed... there are two of us, and more, we joke. Saby's theory is that our baby not only is very active, but is also very naughty, and has friends sneak over late at night. They then stay awake playing even after we've gone to sleep. This morning, our child seems to have been hosting some sort of track and field event with it's friends. (Maybe a March of Dimes event?) I was very dimly aware that my belly was jumping - literally JUMPING - on an axis perpendicular to my body, as if Spampy baby were laying across the uterus and doing some variation of a tap dance routine where arms, legs and head would all jolt out at the same time. Ka-poom. Ka-poom. Like a very violent muscle twitch. I'm not sure if the kid calmed down or whether sleep just got the better of me, but it really is pretty amazing having somebody inside of you, even if they are running relays with friends.
It's doing it now, too!!
BUT, the strangest new development I've noticed is that I'm the amazing transparent woman. Like those plastic figures that are part fertility goddess, part anatomy-teaching tool, where you can see all of their veins? That's me. Life size. I stepped out of the shower yesterday and was giving myself the visual once over and stretch mark lotion rub down. Once upon a time I had noticed crazy veins running to and from my growing boobies... well them veins are EVERYWHERE now. Not varicose veins, mind you. My actual, normal veins and arteries must be running at extra high capacity, thanks to all the extra bloody pregnancy makes you have, and that combined with the freakish paleness of spring are resulting in my stomach and sides looking like a Rand McNally atlas of Kentucky.
So between that and the growth spurt, I feel like the fabulous inflatable transparent woman! Come see me grow!!
Friday, April 4, 2008
6 Months
Holy crap, I'm 6 months pregnant! Whooopie!
I would sing my 6 months pregnant song but it doesn't translate to the written word very well.
I chose this time to start swimming again... snuck into Dayton Sharks practice but just hung out in a lane by myself, doing laps of kicking and arms, barely ever both at the same time though as I didn't feel that ambitious.
Good times. Bought my first nursing top, too. It was miraculously returned by some no-longer medium sized woman one morning that I worked, and I had that bad boy in the office for myself.
That's all!
I would sing my 6 months pregnant song but it doesn't translate to the written word very well.
I chose this time to start swimming again... snuck into Dayton Sharks practice but just hung out in a lane by myself, doing laps of kicking and arms, barely ever both at the same time though as I didn't feel that ambitious.
Good times. Bought my first nursing top, too. It was miraculously returned by some no-longer medium sized woman one morning that I worked, and I had that bad boy in the office for myself.
That's all!
Monday, March 31, 2008
International Baby Mania
It's mostly because Saby has lots of newly married cousins that he and I have found ourselves to be the North American branch of an international baby makin' syndicate.
I can proudly say that thanks to the Catholic side of my family, we had our own population boom (international even, as one cousin was born in Germany) during a time frame that allowed my sister to participate. She cast in her lot as co-engineer of two girls and a boy over a span of about 6 or 7 years. Other cousins of mine have managed to have upwards of 5 in that same time; some are sticking with one.
Sometime this summer, our cousin Babi was not the first of the new generation of cousins to have a baby, but the first to have one after I had actually met her. Until our trip to India in the end of '06, the joy of most family baby announcements had been diluted by vague descriptions like "Daddy's 2nd youngest brother's second daughter had a baby boy yesterday" and Saby saying, "She was just a KID when I saw her last!" Add to it a pile of names like Anju, Manju, Renju, Reena, and Reema... it was just hard to imagine everyone. So ta-daaa, go to India, meet everyone, sort the Anjus from the Manjus, and now we can authentically rejoice in the birth of everyone's children.
Babi had a girl. Babi managed to get pregnant on probably her wedding night, as all good Kerala girls should, and subsequently had a baby some 280 days later. Her daughter is a cute little thing, from the few photos we've seen, and I'm sure she's being loved to death as the first grandchild of Joy Uncle and Valsama aunty.
Next came Dhanya. Dhanya is from the other side of Saby's family... Mummy's. She is the second daughter of Matkutty uncle, who lives in Jersey City (and who is a very nice guy.) See, I can play this whole thing out now, even though I've never met her. Dhanya has always been a bit of a luddoo gordita supreme, and unfortunately had to go through a c-section before her daughter Riya could be introduced to the world. (the fourth Riya/Rhea in the family, btw... not sure what that is all about. We have more than one Babi too) Riya was born at a whopping 9 point something pounds... very close to ten. She's now probably the most kissable little glub-glub you'll ever see in photos.
Now the newest addition to the club is our cousin Cynthia. She's the wife of Vinod, the big Egyptian looking fellow from our wedding, should anybody remember. She is relatively tall and very very slim, and has never allowed me to see any photos of her pregnant because she feels she looked like she had swallowed a watermelon. Huh. (I'd be proud of that, but hey...) Have never seen photos of their wedding, either, because she claims to look like crap. Anyway... she just gave birth on the 30th to a baby girl named Maya... unfortunately also via cesarean operation. She was terrified about the idea of giving birth and said she'd sell her mother and husband for an epidural... then later recanted that, saying she was nervous that the doctors in Cochin were too inexperienced on giving epidurals. We have yet to hear how it all went down, or get any further statistics on the baby, but it also looks like a sweet little thing and has the same big cheeks of Cynthia and possibly Vinod's nose.
A friend of ours in Michigan gave birth on March 15th to a baby girl ( to Anjali, the best Hindi movie name ever)... and another friend of ours is in the "watch-and-wait" stages, holding out for April 5th or so.
After that, the spotlight goes to cousin Meril (from Daddy's side of the family) in the UK on or around July 18th, and then to me immediately after. It's very interesting to look at it all this way. At least for me.
I can proudly say that thanks to the Catholic side of my family, we had our own population boom (international even, as one cousin was born in Germany) during a time frame that allowed my sister to participate. She cast in her lot as co-engineer of two girls and a boy over a span of about 6 or 7 years. Other cousins of mine have managed to have upwards of 5 in that same time; some are sticking with one.
Sometime this summer, our cousin Babi was not the first of the new generation of cousins to have a baby, but the first to have one after I had actually met her. Until our trip to India in the end of '06, the joy of most family baby announcements had been diluted by vague descriptions like "Daddy's 2nd youngest brother's second daughter had a baby boy yesterday" and Saby saying, "She was just a KID when I saw her last!" Add to it a pile of names like Anju, Manju, Renju, Reena, and Reema... it was just hard to imagine everyone. So ta-daaa, go to India, meet everyone, sort the Anjus from the Manjus, and now we can authentically rejoice in the birth of everyone's children.
Babi had a girl. Babi managed to get pregnant on probably her wedding night, as all good Kerala girls should, and subsequently had a baby some 280 days later. Her daughter is a cute little thing, from the few photos we've seen, and I'm sure she's being loved to death as the first grandchild of Joy Uncle and Valsama aunty.
Next came Dhanya. Dhanya is from the other side of Saby's family... Mummy's. She is the second daughter of Matkutty uncle, who lives in Jersey City (and who is a very nice guy.) See, I can play this whole thing out now, even though I've never met her. Dhanya has always been a bit of a luddoo gordita supreme, and unfortunately had to go through a c-section before her daughter Riya could be introduced to the world. (the fourth Riya/Rhea in the family, btw... not sure what that is all about. We have more than one Babi too) Riya was born at a whopping 9 point something pounds... very close to ten. She's now probably the most kissable little glub-glub you'll ever see in photos.
Now the newest addition to the club is our cousin Cynthia. She's the wife of Vinod, the big Egyptian looking fellow from our wedding, should anybody remember. She is relatively tall and very very slim, and has never allowed me to see any photos of her pregnant because she feels she looked like she had swallowed a watermelon. Huh. (I'd be proud of that, but hey...) Have never seen photos of their wedding, either, because she claims to look like crap. Anyway... she just gave birth on the 30th to a baby girl named Maya... unfortunately also via cesarean operation. She was terrified about the idea of giving birth and said she'd sell her mother and husband for an epidural... then later recanted that, saying she was nervous that the doctors in Cochin were too inexperienced on giving epidurals. We have yet to hear how it all went down, or get any further statistics on the baby, but it also looks like a sweet little thing and has the same big cheeks of Cynthia and possibly Vinod's nose.
A friend of ours in Michigan gave birth on March 15th to a baby girl ( to Anjali, the best Hindi movie name ever)... and another friend of ours is in the "watch-and-wait" stages, holding out for April 5th or so.
After that, the spotlight goes to cousin Meril (from Daddy's side of the family) in the UK on or around July 18th, and then to me immediately after. It's very interesting to look at it all this way. At least for me.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
"I ate that cow!"
Ahhh, French Kiss. Great Meg Ryan movie that (among many, many, MANY other things) brings to light the plight of hundreds of thousands of North Americans: LACTOSE INTOLERANCE
Something funny has been happening to me lately. I seem to be able to drink milk. And eat ice cream, and have milkshakes, and smoothies with yogurt, and have cheese in absolutely everything I eat (minus ice cream, milkshakes, and smoothies with yogurt).
There's no stinky-poo aftermath to be suffered by all. No cramping, no painful build-ups with subsequent explosions. In fact, perhaps in a mean inter-bodily plot to make me fatter, my digestion seems to be loving this stuff. We're saving about $5 a month not having to buy Lactaid milk, and I'm pumping that saved $5 directly back into Boston Stoker Mocha Lattes! I have calcium coursing through my veins at an unprecedented rate! Osteoporosis is no longer in my long-term plans! YES! For the love of God, I want the whip cream!
This is a new development over probably the last two months. I'm not sure if some new bacteria has taken up residence in my intestine or what... but milk no longer makes me want to shoot myself. This is a very nice thing.
Something funny has been happening to me lately. I seem to be able to drink milk. And eat ice cream, and have milkshakes, and smoothies with yogurt, and have cheese in absolutely everything I eat (minus ice cream, milkshakes, and smoothies with yogurt).
There's no stinky-poo aftermath to be suffered by all. No cramping, no painful build-ups with subsequent explosions. In fact, perhaps in a mean inter-bodily plot to make me fatter, my digestion seems to be loving this stuff. We're saving about $5 a month not having to buy Lactaid milk, and I'm pumping that saved $5 directly back into Boston Stoker Mocha Lattes! I have calcium coursing through my veins at an unprecedented rate! Osteoporosis is no longer in my long-term plans! YES! For the love of God, I want the whip cream!
This is a new development over probably the last two months. I'm not sure if some new bacteria has taken up residence in my intestine or what... but milk no longer makes me want to shoot myself. This is a very nice thing.
Bloody hell...
Ahhhhh, I only have 30 minutes to throw together something to distract Spampy's Aunty Melanie from her future as a lawyer... her contracts class is coming up fast at 10 a.m. Central Time! Damn Texas for not being on mountain time! And shame on St Mary's in San Antonio for allowing their law students to have wireless internet in class!
Well... let's see. Today is Wednesday, and the last one of March. How the month has flown! Went from getting my first kick-in-tha-ute on March 2nd to having an almost constant bowling alley atmosphere in this formerly peaceful womb.
Spampy is my private dancer. I'm sure parents world-wide draw all sorts of conclusions about why their kids are bouncing around in vitro. We are certainly no exception. I tend to think this kid is a enthusiastic little ball of birth, doing his/her involuntary movement exercises, yanking on the umbilical cord and swimming cleverly around, sipping amniotic fluid occasionally. Saby likes to err on the side of... well, his own personality. He's a sleeper, and sort of a twitchy one with restless leg syndrome and a constant and real fear that he's going to inadvertently throw a jab at me in the night. Spampy seems to get most rowdy after dinner and then right before I go off to sleep... which is very similar to big poppa's routine. This morning the poor thing seems to have gotten hiccups... and per his/her dad's line of thought, this was from being startled awake and having to bump-a-bump over to the kitchen to make coffee and lunch.
But then, last night there was also spasms of some sort occurring... hiccups from too much Chili's take out, too late at night? General excitement about faintly hearing (and now, recognizing) The Office through all the digestion noises? The little pamphlet my Aunt Kathy sent us stated that at 24 weeks, babies are able to respond rhythmically to music or sound that they hear in the womb. Meaning, on the extremely scarce chance that those hiccups were actually rhythmic responses to whatever the outside world was transmitting, this kid already has a longer attention span than I do!!
Well... let's see. Today is Wednesday, and the last one of March. How the month has flown! Went from getting my first kick-in-tha-ute on March 2nd to having an almost constant bowling alley atmosphere in this formerly peaceful womb.
Spampy is my private dancer. I'm sure parents world-wide draw all sorts of conclusions about why their kids are bouncing around in vitro. We are certainly no exception. I tend to think this kid is a enthusiastic little ball of birth, doing his/her involuntary movement exercises, yanking on the umbilical cord and swimming cleverly around, sipping amniotic fluid occasionally. Saby likes to err on the side of... well, his own personality. He's a sleeper, and sort of a twitchy one with restless leg syndrome and a constant and real fear that he's going to inadvertently throw a jab at me in the night. Spampy seems to get most rowdy after dinner and then right before I go off to sleep... which is very similar to big poppa's routine. This morning the poor thing seems to have gotten hiccups... and per his/her dad's line of thought, this was from being startled awake and having to bump-a-bump over to the kitchen to make coffee and lunch.
But then, last night there was also spasms of some sort occurring... hiccups from too much Chili's take out, too late at night? General excitement about faintly hearing (and now, recognizing) The Office through all the digestion noises? The little pamphlet my Aunt Kathy sent us stated that at 24 weeks, babies are able to respond rhythmically to music or sound that they hear in the womb. Meaning, on the extremely scarce chance that those hiccups were actually rhythmic responses to whatever the outside world was transmitting, this kid already has a longer attention span than I do!!
Monday, March 24, 2008
Photographic Evidence
Here's a photo from very early in the morning, the day of both the Ohio Presidental primary and our 20-week ultrasound. I actually deleted the side view photo, because I realized my face was starting to get a little chubby and I couldn't stand seeing my own chins.
And here's another from Friday, March 21st at (apparently) 5 months and 3 weeks, or 23 weeks. I am actually standing up straight, as much as it does not look like it.
And last but not least, here's photographic evidence of both Daddy and Mum, very late in the evening of March 22nd after the Easter Vigil at our church. I'm a little greasy after being anointed (smeared) in perfumed oil in honor of becoming a confirmed Catholic... Saby is resoundingly cheerful after sitting for 3 hours. Spampy was just chilling :-)
And here's another from Friday, March 21st at (apparently) 5 months and 3 weeks, or 23 weeks. I am actually standing up straight, as much as it does not look like it.
And last but not least, here's photographic evidence of both Daddy and Mum, very late in the evening of March 22nd after the Easter Vigil at our church. I'm a little greasy after being anointed (smeared) in perfumed oil in honor of becoming a confirmed Catholic... Saby is resoundingly cheerful after sitting for 3 hours. Spampy was just chilling :-)
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Life is pretty amazing...
Here's an article from the UK on a baby born at 22 weeks, and survived. She's already had plastic surgery, to repair an ear that was ripped off during delivery. (yikes!)
But it's pretty amazing. Makes me want to go and punch an abortion doc in the stomach.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/health/healthmain.html?in_article_id=437236&in_page_id=1774&in_page_id=1774&expand=true#StartComments
But it's pretty amazing. Makes me want to go and punch an abortion doc in the stomach.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/health/healthmain.html?in_article_id=437236&in_page_id=1774&in_page_id=1774&expand=true#StartComments
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