Gender Reveal Parties - Love 'em or Hate 'em - We did it anyway!

There is much debate on the mommy-boards about Gender Reveal Parties. Some think they are fabulous, others not so much. In my case I was clueless to them until my sister threw hers before my nephew, C was born. It was a really fun way to let everyone know what she was having and a great excuse to have a party - I mean really, who doesn't love a party?

So when we decided that we wanted to find out what we were having the discussion of a Gender Reveal naturally came up. Now, my husband being the more private of the two of us, didn't feel that it was necessary, I however thought "why not?" it would be fun.

I spent weeks scouring Pinterest for ideas, only to feel completely inadequate in my party planning capabilities. I did however, manage to score a few ideas for how to reveal the gender. 

Party Details:

• Mini-Food Theme: Pigs in a Blanket, Mini Baked Mac & Cheese, Mini Cupcakes, Mini Cheeseburgers, Cocktail Meatballs ... you get the idea
• Decor: All white with pink and blue balloons
• We made a chalkboard and had people guess whether it was a boy or a girl
• Balloon Box Reveal

Ultimately the Gender Reveal part was more of an afterthought in terms of the party itself. It was just really nice to have a bunch of our friends and family over for munchies and to catch up. It had been a while since we'd see a lot of them, and some of them had never been to our house. It was the first really nice weekend weather-wise we've had up here so we were able to be outside as well which only added to the ambiance of the party.

Everyone said they had a great time, and even those that were skeptical about what exactly a Gender Reveal party is, told us they thought it was a really cute idea.

Would you look at that spread!

Cucumber, cream cheese, salmon & dill

Buffalo Tater-Tots, Mini Baked Mac & Cheese, Mini Cheeseburger Calzones

Mini Caprese Salads

  

Mini Cupcakes decorated by Hannah

Place your Guess!

I'm the Big Sister!

?????

The nugget is a BOY!!!

20 Weeks = 20 Pounds!

Today was my 20 week appointment and the first time I asked to see the scale. When I looked down I saw a number I haven't seen in almost 10 years ... 152 pounds! I literally gasped out loud.

Now I know 152 is not a huge number by any means, (the CDC reported that the average weight for non-pregnant women ages 20 and older is 164.7) but for me it's 20 pounds above where I started this pregnancy.

Which means, if you can do the simple math I've gained an average of a pound per week since the moment this little (or not so little) nugget was conceived.

My doctor said I'm "a little ahead of the curve" at this point and for the next month she wants me to really pay attention to what I'm eating. She said for the most part she isn't worried since I started off this process at 12% body fat so it was expected that I would gain a bit more than someone else might. She also reminded me that some women gain most of their weight in the beginning while others tend to gain it in the end.

Ironically, I have been maintaining a largely healthy existence thus far, hence my shock when I saw the number, I am still working out and eating a balanced diet. I do admit my intake of "simple" carbs has definitely increased and I've allowed myself more than one "sweet tooth" item a week. However, I've been trying not too be too hard on myself about these things.

I've decided that I need to revisit my competition food days - no, not in the amount of what I was eating but how I was eating. Back then I was eating 6 small meals a day and I would prepare them all on Sunday for the upcoming week. And that's what I need to do from here on out. Back to the basics - egg whites, brown rice, chicken, quinoa, lean red meat and hopefully that will help me to level off a bit and not gain so quickly.

I go back in one month for my glucose test so this is a perfect opportunity to start paying much closer attention to what goes in my mouth!

The appointment ended on a happy note - I got to hear the little one's heartbeat, and it's just as fast today as it was the last time. While I have yet to feel any solid movement (my placenta is in the front) we were able to hear movement happening today through the Doppler! Every time I hear the heartbeat it makes my own heart burst with joy! It's just such an amazing sound. To know there is a child growing inside me is an incredible feeling and one I wouldn't change for the world.

Now it's time for this momma to hit the pavement for my lunch time walk! Thank goodness for the sunshine in the city today!

Halfway There & Back Story

Today marks the beginning of the second half of my pregnancy and also the time in which I think I need to address why this is all the more exciting for us and how we've gotten to this point.

(*note this will be a long one so if you get through it I applaud and thank you)

My husband, Brian, and I always said, from the moment we started dating that we didn't want children, much to the chagrin of our families. At that time my husband was in a successfully touring band (check them out: Jon Frederik Band) and was touring up and down the east coast. They had dreams of this being a life-long career and for a long while it seemed as though it would happen. Given that possibility we decided it would be incredibly hard to have children if their father was always going to be on the road. Fast-forward five years, Brian's band had broken up, we were married and happily living a carefree existence. It was at that point that I started my competitive bodybuilding training. By then we'd both said that being the "cool" aunt and uncle was enough for us and we didn't need/want to have our own children. That we'd rather spend our time and money traveling the world and having all sorts of adventures. We'd been together 6 years at that point and were confident in our choice. Our families tried to talk us out of it more than once, telling us we'd miss out on so much, but we held firm. (if you know us, you know how stubborn we can be)

In November 2011 my husband's aunt passed away very tragically and suddenly from a rare form of cancer. She was a force to be reckoned with - the type of woman that always put her family (especially her children) first and would protect her own with everything she had. She was loud and boisterous - my kind of lady; and we loved her very much. Her passing brought out so many emotions in Brian and me regarding family and what it meant to grow old. At the time of her death, Brian's cousin (his aunt's daughter) was nearing the end of her first pregnancy and to think of her having to go through her shower, labor and the birth of her first child (among so many other milestones) without her mother was truly heartbreaking to me. At her funeral, her son spoke and referred more than once to the wonderful mother and grandmother she was. Listening to him talk it was as if a light went off in my head, as horribly painful as it was to say good-bye to this amazing woman, as I sat there and looked around, I realized she wasn't alone. So many people loved her and she left behind a legacy of children and grandchildren that would grow up knowing how much she loved them in return.

When we got home that evening Brian turned to me and said "I think I'd like to have a baby" - I started to laugh. At first he was angry, then confused. It wasn't until I explained that I was laughing because I was thinking the same thing that he understood. He told me that he'd been thinking about it the last year or so, but because of my training he didn't want to say anything. He was afraid I would say I still didn't want children. If you've never had an epiphany before, let me tell you, it's something out of a movie. It really was as if the clouds parted and we could see life more clearly. We did want children of our own, we wanted the diapers and the mid-night feedings, we wanted the skinned knees and temper tantrums of a toddler, we wanted the joys and heartbreak of a teenager and we most definitely wanted the grandchildren and great-grandchildren later in life.

I spoke with my primary care physician the very next day and she instructed me to finish out my birth control that month (which worked out quite conveniently) and to begin taking a pre-natal vitamin. She assured me that nature would take its course and that we weren't to worry if it didn't happen right away - that we really needed to give it a full year before she'd intervene.

By July of the following year after months of trying - charting, temping (you name it), nothing was happening. I began to get very frustrated and while it had been a relatively short time, I did what I know many women before me have done ... I lied. I told my OB/GYN that we'd been trying for a year and that it just wasn't working. After showing him all my charts he figured out that more than likely I wasn't ovulating (my cycles were anywhere from 28 to 96 days long) - it's no wonder I wasn't pregnant yet. He prescribed me Clomiphene (Clomid) in the hopes that it would help in our efforts. He prescribed it to me for three months and said if I wasn't pregnant after the third month that we'd have to start looking at other possibilities and options.

Three months later, on a cold Sunday - October 7th to be exact - I woke up and remembered that as of that day I was officially a week late. I had been counting the days up until then hoping and praying Aunt Flow would stay away and she had! I literally ran to the bathroom and took a test - it didn't even take 3 minutes for it to register POSITIVE! I began screaming and crying and dancing around the house only to realize I didn't have anyone to share the news with. Brian was working and there was no way I was telling him this over the phone. I waited anxiously for the next 12 hours for him to get home and when he finally did I could barely contain myself. I showed him the test to which he replied "Really? How many did you take? You're lying! You drew the line on there! OMG! Seriously?" ... he was clearly as surprised (and excited) as I was.

At first we were going to keep it a secret for a while, but I was going on vacation with my mother-in-law the following Monday and I knew she'd figure it out if we didn't tell our families ahead of time. We told both sets of parents the very next night and they were overjoyed for us (and them). It was going to be the first grandchild on Brian's side and the second on mine (my older sister had just announced her own pregnancy earlier that summer). We immediately began talking about names, the nursery, the registry all things baby. It was what we'd been wanting for so long and it was finally here.

The following Sunday, October 14th, I was watching the Patriot's game with my parents and some family friends when I started cramping. I tried to ignore it but as the night went on the cramping got worse and I started to bleed. I called my sister, Sarah, in a panic who told me I needed to talk to my OB/GYN (I had switched practices at this point). When I spoke to my doctor she instructed me to head to the nearest emergency room for an ultrasound and blood work. Brian was at work so my mother went with me and held my hand as they did a blood pregnancy test and an ultrasound. It seemed to take forever before the ER doctor arrived. He informed me that based on my HCG levels and the ultrasound that I was 3 weeks along. I knew immediately that something was very wrong. Based on my last period and the timing of my positive test, I should have been 6 weeks pregnant at that time. But he insisted that everything looked fine and I should just try to get some rest. Brian was there by then and he held my hand and told me everything would be ok. We asked the doctor if it would be ok for me to travel and he again said "yes" as long as I took it easy while I was away.

The next morning I left with my mother-in-law to fly to Florida for a four day cruise. I couldn't wait to get out of the frigid New England temperature and into the warm weather and relax. Brian thought it would be the best thing for me, it would help me take my mind off being scared and I would get to be away from all the everyday stresses of life. We arrived in Florida mid-morning and immediately boarded the ship. We took a quick walk around to get the lay of the land before stopping for lunch. It was then that the cramping began again with a vengence. I went to the bathroom and couldn't believe my eyes. The bleeding had started again but this time a thin maxi pad wasn't going to be enough. With tears in my eyes I called Brian who insisted I call the doctor. After speaking with my doctor (who had yet to receive the report from my ER trip) and telling her what the ultrasound tech and the ER doctor had said; she told me I needed to get off the boat and go to the nearest emergency room as quickly as possible. She said she couldn't believe the doctor in MA could have said everything was fine when clearly "something is terribly wrong".

I have to stop for a minute and praise Royal Caribbean cruises. The ship was scheduled to leave port only 30 minutes later and they took the time to locate the suite manager and stewards to locate our luggage, call the ambulance and make sure I was ok. They never once made me feel like an inconvenience and they assured me they had our best interests at heart. I will be forever grateful to them for taking the time to make sure we were able to get off the ship as quickly and safely as possible.
We were transported to the nearest hospital in Florida where they performed more blood work. I declined another ultrasound as I knew they wouldn't see anymore than the tech had the night before - looking back I wish I'd let them. After a few hours of waiting (and many tearful phone calls home) the doctor came in with his results. He indicated that my HCG levels did in fact indicate that I was pregnant but that what was happening was one of three things:

1) The pregnancy was still viable just "younger" than we originally though (he said this was highly unlikely in his opinion)
2) That because of what my HCG levels were, that I was in fact miscarrying and the reason they were still registering that I was pregnant was because I was still in the midst of the miscarriage (this was the most likely scenario)
3) The pregnancy was ectopic and I needed to get back to Boston as quickly as I could (unlikely but possible)

After a ton of scrambling and some panicking my mother-in-law and I were able to fly home to Boston the next morning. At the instruction of my doctor I continued to get blood drawn for the next 72 hours to see what my levels were doing. By then we were hoping (sadly) that they would be dropping toward 0 indicating a completed miscarriage.

I had my last round of blood drawn on Thursday, October 18th and anxiously awaited the results from my doctor. The bleeding had stopped completely the day before so I was convinced it was over. I had spent the last few days crying and being angry but that morning I knew I needed to start the grieving process. Brian was amazing during that time, letting me cry when I needed too and just holding me when I couldn't breathe. We were both in such a state of shock - just a week before we'd been planning our child's arrival and now we were dealing with a loss.

People that have never suffered a miscarriage or known someone that has can never really fully comprehend the feeling of loss you go through. It doesn't matter if you're 5 minutes, 5 weeks or 5 months pregnant - once you have made that connection with your child, losing it at any point is the most difficult thing to deal with. You feel angry, depressed, sad, hurt and you blame yourself. It's a silent pain; people don't really talk about miscarriage especially early on. Most women don't announce their pregnancy until 12 weeks so to lose a baby prior to that doesn't give you much in terms of emotional support in a larger circle. I found myself having to say "Yay! We were pregnant but now we're not" ... try that one out... it sucks.

On Sunday, October 21st I still hadn't heard from my doctor, but assumed that just meant that our suspicions were right. I knew she would probably call me the next day so I went about my life the best I could. Brian and I met in Cambridge for dinner that evening to watch the Patriot's game and try to have a good time. About halfway through dinner I got a pain in my abdomen like I had never felt before. It literally felt as if someone was stabbing me repeatedly with a steak knife. I excused myself to the bathroom expecting to throw up (hoping to throw up) so the pain would go away. After five minutes I knew that wasn't happening. I could barely stand up straight and Brian literally had to support me as we paid for our half eaten meals and left the restaurant. We went back to his office (he was working late) and I lay on the floor while he finished up his work. Within minutes I was curled up in such excruiating pain, I couldn't move and I could barely speak. I was sobbing and barely had the energy to call my doctor. She apologized a million times for not getting back to me with my results - there had been a mix up with the file - but that I needed to get to the emergency room immediately, she would meet us there. I texted Sarah (who lived in Boston at the time) to tell her what was going on and she insisted on meeting us there.

By the time we got to the hospital the pain was so bad that they administered me morphine but even that wasn't helping. I was wheeled in for yet another ultrasound and instantly the tech knew what was going on. My doctor told me what we'd been fearing, that I was having another miscarriage but that this one was ectopic. It appears I had been pregnant with fraternal twins (one of the potential side effects of clomid) and that I had experienced a Heterotopic Pregnancy. I did in fact miscarry the first naturally but somehow the tech at the first hospital missed the growing ectopic pregnancy. This baby had continued to grow for another week making it just large enough to cause severe damage to my left Fallopian Tube. The doctor told me that I needed emergency surgery to remove the pregnancy and ultimately safe my life from internal bleeding (the cause of the pain). I was taken to the operating room minutes later and when I woke up I was told the had to remove my entire left tube because of the damage. She told us that had the original doctor caught the ectopic that we could most likely have avoided surgery and saved my tube. To say I was angry was an understatement. I didn't (and still don't) understand how someone whose job it is to read ultrasounds could have missed something so potentially dangerous.

After my surgery I plunged into a very deep depression. It didn't matter that my doctor said I could still carry a baby, or that I was "lucky" - all that matters was I had lost not one but both of my babies and the second in such a dramatic way. I spent weeks blaming myself but mostly the doctor who missed it. Looking back now I know even if he had caught it I still would have lost them both and that's something entirely different.

I am blessed to have such a supportive circle around me - Sarah was truly my rock during the whole ordeal. Because Brian was going through it too (albeit differently) she was there to hold my hand, listen to me vent and dry my tears. Somehow she knew exactly what the say and when to say it. I don't think I'll ever be able to thank her for everything she did for me. Brian, like most men, grieved in his own way - silently and privately. He chose not to talk about it and I don't blame him. Talking about it wasn't going to change what happened and it wasn't going to bring our babies back.

I honestly didn't know how long it would take for me to be "ok" with everything and to be honest I still don't think I am. While I can't wait to hold this little one and raise it and give it all the love I possibly can, I still have angry days. Days when I'm mad and wonder what I could have done differently. But in the end I remind myself that as cliche as it sounds I do believe everything happens for a reason. God didn't want those babies living in this world for reasons we'll never know, but what I do know is that now our family has two beautiful guardian angels watching over us.

After my post-op follow up my doctor told us that I would be able to conceive again but that it might take a while and that ultimately we may need help. As much as the latter was not what we wants to hear at least we could be hopeful that someday we'd have a baby of our own!

So it was very much to our surprise and joy that we found out on January 2nd that I was once again pregnant! Just three short months after my surgery and we were expecting again. When I called my doctor she was thrilled - I think she might have even cried for us! I immediately began blood work and ultrasounds to make sure that everything was in the right place and happening on schedule. Sure enough our Miracle Baby was precisely where it was supposed to be and when we saw the heartbeat on the screen for the first time neither of us could hold back our emotions.

Since then, and really up to now, we've been cautious with what we share and with whom. In the beginning it was the fear of sharing our joy only to have to go through a loss again. Then it became something so special to us that we wanted to keep it private - just with family. Now that we are officially "out" - its hard to deny it with the bump I'm sporting - I feel better. Each day that goes by is one day closer to my due date - one more day that my baby grows stronger - one more day that my heart grows bigger.

I have been appreciating everything that has come along with this pregnancy - early term nausea, exhaustion, food cravings/aversions, weight gain ... All of it. Some of it isn't fun but its all part of the process and I wouldn't change it for anything. To know I'm carrying a child that Brian and I created after the pain we went through is something I can't explain. The journal I've been keeping is something I cherish deeply and I hope the nugget will appreciate it just as much when he/she grows up.

Now that I'm turning the page into the second half of my pregnancy I am starting to once again plan all those things we did way too early the first time. We've picked 6 names (no we aren't telling), chosen our nursery theme (not kitschy) and started our registry (just barely). The next 20 weeks are going to bring so much excitement and joy (along with the expected pregnancy pains and gains) and I can not wait for every single thing!

We will welcome our Miracle on (or around) September 11, 2013 into a family full of love and laughter - right where he/she is meant to be.

We Are #BostonStrong

What does it mean to be #BostonStrong?

I think to everyone it means something just a bit different but I think Big Papi (David Ortiz for those of you who don't know who he is) put it best during the open ceremonies of Saturday's Red Sox game:

"This jersey, that we wear today, it doesn't say 'Red Sox.' It says 'Boston,' We want to thank you Mayor Menino, Governor Patrick, the whole police department, for the great job that they did this past week. This is our fucking city. And nobody's going to dictate our freedom. Stay strong!"

Over the next few days, people will gather all over our state, from Wilmington to Medford and Dorchester and across the world in China; to say goodbye to the loved ones they lost in this horrible event. But, they will not be alone. Strangers will gather at churches and parks to hold their own vigils and ceremonies to honor these young lives and to make a silent promise that nothing and no one can hurt our city. We will come together and we will persevere - and we will never forget.

The Day After ...

"Boston is a tough and resilient town, so are its people. I am supremely confident that Bostonians will pull together, take care of each other and move forward - as one proud city" -- President Obama

There are literally no words to describe what took place here in our sacred city yesterday. On a day filled with so much excitement and pride - we were rocked to our core through a senseless act of cowardice and violence. Over 150 people were injured, 3 lost their lives (including an 8 year old) and numerous others were impacted. It's the type of thing you don't expect to happen in your hometown - it's something you expect to see on TV in a distant city far away from the safety of your door. Only this time it was here, and our sense of safety has been forever changed.

I could take the time to recap the events of the day, but I know that will only cause me to re-live the nightmare of the day. I sit here pondering what this means for our city, our race and our citizens. It's a terrifying thought to know that there is literally nowhere that you can feel entirely safe anymore. From our offices, to our schools, our movie theaters and now the streets of our towns, everyone is on edge.

As I walked to my office this morning, I found myself looking at everyone suspiciously - wondering, "could it have been them?" But that's what these terrorists want - they want us to be afraid, to question everyone, to stop trusting our neighbors. But that's NOT what they'll get. As President Obama said, Boston is a resilient town - we will come out of this stronger and more determined than ever! We will stand united until this person (or persons) is caught and brought to justice; and after that we will continue to stand united to remember those who were effected by yesterday's events.

So many people are already thinking about next year and how different the race will be. Some are saying they will run again to honor the memory of this year, to show they aren't afraid and to finish the race they started. Others are saying they are going to stay as far away as possible for fear that this could happen again. No matter what the outcome, one thing is for certain - Marathon Monday will never be the same in this city again.

Despite what happened yesterday there seems to be a renewed sense of Boston pride around. The sun is shining through a cloudless sky and as you look around the streets you can see Marathon jackets from this year and so many years past - as if to say "You can't bring us down!" People are walking with their heads held high and a seemingly new type of determination on their faces.

The police presence is undeniable - everywhere you look they are there... so if you have a moment, please make sure to say "thank you" because you never know when you might be the one in need.

 

As Mayor Menino said: "Boston will overcome"

Marathon Monday!

Good Morning! It's Patriot's Day here in Massachusetts, and for some even more importantly, it's MARATHON MONDAY!!

The city truly comes alive today, as if spring has finally arrived! So much energy, support and spirit abound for the runners. On top of that there is also a Red Sox game going on! To say the city is full of people is an understatement. Everywhere you look you either see fluorescent yellow marathon attire or Red Sox garb - it really is a fun day to be a Bostonian!

A few years back, prior to my body building days, I had it in my head that someday I would run the Boston Marathon. This was when I thought I was a fairly decent runner. I could hold my own at a steady 8 minute mile, but topped out at a distance of about 7 miles. After that I hit a brick wall and no matter how much I tried, there was no getting past it! I succumbed to the idea that maybe, even though I loved it so much, running just wasn't for me. This past November I decided to re-commit myself to my running and started slowly but surely getting back into a regular routine. Just before I found out I was pregnant I was back to running 4 miles at an 8 minute pace! Felt great to have my running legs again. Since I finding out I am pregnant I have backed off (once again) so as to do what's right for my body and the nugget. I am still jogging (or as my sister likes to call it - yogging!) three times a week but I'm doing so indoors on a treadmill (level ground as I refer to it), and maxing out at a 10 minute pace and only doing about 2.5 miles.

Watching the marathon each year inspires me so much, to the point of tears. To watch these runners from all over the world trek through our streets, sometimes in extreme heat (2012), other times in torrential rain (2007) and one year in the snow (1967), is really an amazing experience. This year many are saying the weather is "perfect running weather" ... it's sunny and mid-50's with a slight breeze off the harbor. What a gorgeous day for a jaunt!

One of the most inspiring stories is that of Dick and Richard Hoyt. They are literally local heroes and were honored today with a bronze statue at the starting line in Hopkinton. Read their story here: Team Hoyt

It's people like this, among the thousands of others (27,000 this year) that make you realize you truly can do anything you put your mind to! At 5am this morning a group of local marines donned their full combat gear, including packs and headed out on a walk that would take them the full 26.2 miles into the heart of Boston. They do this every year and as they pass by the spectators you can just sense the pride they have for what they do, and people are yelling "God Bless America" and thanking them for their service with high-fives and cheers as they trudge their way to the finish line.

There are so many stories of faith and hope in the city today and while many view the marathon as "just a race", for those running and the people of Boston it truly is a very special day!

Although I'm spending this Marathon Monday working and unable to attend in person as I've done for many of the years past, I am filled with admiration and pride for each of the 27,000 brave folks pounding the pavement today! Run a mile for me will ya!

New Journey = New Blog

I have attempted this blogging thing on more than one occasion and was unsuccessful each time. I've come to realize it was because each of those blogs were aimed at entertaining others, trying to gain readers and impart some sort of knowledge to the world. This blog will be more self-serving. It will be my way to document, reflect on and continue my journey of living a fit and healthy lifestyle.

Now the hard part ... where to start...

I guess the best place would be explaining what the "new journey" is and why a new blog is necessary!

The new journey can be summed up in two words - Pending Mommyhood! After some pretty intense, scary and serious trials and tribulations my husband and I are expecting our first little nugget sometime in early September! We couldn't be more happy if we tried!

For the past 19 weeks I have been documenting my pregnancy in a journal to my child. It has been my way of staying connected to the baby and beginning our journey together.

(*note - I hate the word journey! It is so overused on reality TV and thus I will try to refrain as much as possible from using it here)

The journal consists of my private thoughts about how my life, body and world are changing so quickly already but also of some funny and interesting tid-bits about my pregnancy thus far - those are the things I'll be sharing here.

I have three friends whose blogs I follow regularly and it's my hope that I can be as witty and entertaining as they are. If not, my apologies early on for what could potentially be the most boring and dreadful thing you have ever subjected yourself to reading!

That's all for now!

I'm off to enjoy what remains of the day and soak up a bit of spring sunshine!