All the Sun For You

A mom, two boys, a husband, and a whole lot of adventure!


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Tit for Tat

(Fair warning, this is a bit of a rant…)

I have an appointment tomorrow with my OB for my annual pap and also to figure out long-term birth control that isn’t permanent.  We were going to go with the Es.sure procedure, because it sounded so simple, but then I read about it.  Yeah, we’re not doing that.  There are a lot of side effects reported that I worry about, and the coils are coated in plastic and I am unusually sensitive to almost all plastics on my skin (even silicone nose pads on sunglasses eat my face).  The idea of a plastic device being shoved into my fallopian tubes worries me a great deal, so we’re looking at other options.  Hottie is coming with me to the appointment because he wants to make sure we select the right option for US, and I think we’re going to go with an IUD.  There are a lot of reasons for this, but the main one is that it’s not permanent.

When I told a friend about this today, her response was the same as I’ve heard over, and over, and over again when this topic comes up.

“Why isn’t he getting fixed?  You went through the IVF, he can do this for you.”

Ummm… because we don’t work that way.  Because there’s more to life than, “I did that, so you have to do this.”

There are lots of other reasons for this decision, such as 1) a vasectomy would be permanent (yeah, yeah, some reversals work, but I’m not counting on that) and an IUD isn’t, 2) I’m the one whose life is at risk if we get pregnant again, and 3) I’m not willing to let Hottie do something so permanent that if something would happen to me, that he couldn’t have children in the future if he would remarry (remember, he’s 3 years younger than me).  But the main reasons are that the IUD is simpler, less invasive, not permanent and… Hottie owes me nothing for being the one who “went through all of those shots.”

The response I almost always get really upsets me.  It makes me wonder how other people’s marriages really work.  I hear a lot of this when talking with my girlfriends.  “My husband had a guys night so he owes me a night out with the girls.”  “He won’t let me go for a weekend away because I did that 6 months ago and it’s his turn.”  “He bought that new computer so he owes me.”  “I bought those awesome boots, so now I have to let him buy that telescope he wanted.”  And my favorite, “I’m the primary parent during the week, so he can take the kids on the weekend.”  It doesn’t stop with their expectations of their own marriages and spouses, they project it onto me as well.  No one has any idea how many times I’ve been told by my girlfriends (SAHM’s and WFHM’s) what Hottie owes me because I’m with the kids all day.  I am constantly told that he needs to give me more breaks, because he gets breaks every day from the kids, and they tell me just what those breaks should be (a pedicure, a movie night, drinks on the patio, a trip to Vegas).

If our marriage worked the way that people seem to think it should, then Hottie and I would spend little time together.  I am home with the kids every single day – the weekends are no different for me than normal week days.  If I did what I’m told I should do, Hottie would be spending the weekend days from 7:00 AM – 6:00 PM with the kids while I go off and have my time.  Hottie travels a couple of nights a week, so according to my friends, he should take over all dinners, bath times, bed times, etc. for the same amount of nights that he was gone so I can be paid back for the times he didn’t have to do those things while he was away.  Instead of make, or go to, breakfast as a family on the weekends, one of us should sleep in on Saturday and let the other one sleep in on Sunday (my neighbor has had multiple day-long fights with her husband because he got to sleep until 9:00 on Saturday, and she got to sleep until 9:30 on Sunday and it wasn’t fair).  Don’t get me wrong, there are mornings when I just can’t get up when Bryson does and I sneak off to Matthew’s room to sleep with him until he’s up (7:30 at the latest), but we don’t talk about whose turn it is to do that – we just do it (Hottie has done this too).  No one feels that anything is owed to them in this household.

It’s all very interesting to me, and I find myself feeling very defensive and resentful when my friends start telling me what Hottie owes me because I’m with the kids so much.  And I find it disgusting that others think that he owes me a vasectomy because of the IVF that we put my body through.  We did IVF because we desperately wanted children, and no one went into it keeping score.  Sure, we know the reason for our infertility and at fleeting times, I was a bit resentful that I had to do the shots when I “wasn’t the problem,” but we wanted a baby so I did the shots, and I got over that resentment almost as quickly as it entered my mind.  I certainly don’t think that he owes me an irreversible medical procedure because of the pain and suffering my body went through to conceive our children.  I got my kids out of the deal, and Hottie owes me nothing beyond them… not even a vasectomy.

 

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And Just Like That…

… There will be no reconsiderations on the size of our family.

I had my annual appointment with Dr. H two weeks ago.  He asked where we were on family planning, I told him about our recent decision to stop at 2 kids, he talked about wishing he’d had a third but that two is easier, and then we talked about my uterus.  He said that between my post-delivery appointment last August and now, he’s “lost two kids to that.”  I asked, “a uterine window?” and he said, “I don’t think you understand what you had.

He explained it quite frankly.  That what I had (uterine window) was simply a pre-rupture – that given its location, size, and the size of Bryson, that even minor laboring would have caused a rupture of “catastrophic proportions.”  The uterine window is what happens just before a rupture – it’s all that’s there keeping the baby in the uterus and it’s only a very thin, clear membrane that is incredibly fragile.  He said that if we chose to have a third baby, that it must be a singleton (“MUST”) and that he’d deliver at 36 weeks to reduce my risk, “but I lost one of those babies at 22 weeks and the other at 34 weeks –  a planned 36 week delivery wouldn’t have saved them.”  My chances of having another uterine window are between 40% and 50%.

So we’re really done.

Hottie asked, “did you ask Dr. H if he would have let M (his wife) have another baby if she’d had the same thing?”  I said I didn’t ask because it was obvious – he would not have.  They stopped at 2 because of their first pregnancy being septic and the second one having a health risk to the baby (but she was fine).  As he said, “having a third would have been playing with fire.”  That’s how we feel too.

I walked out of there a little sad.  A little relieved.  A little devastated.  A little at peace.

I mean, there is something to be said for knowing you’re done because you just shouldn’t have more.  We have a very good medical reason to stop, and we’re taking it seriously…  so that’s it… we’re done.


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Super Excited!

Anyone who’s been reading me for some time knows that B and I both love my OB, Dr. H. The man is just…. awesome. He’s a fabulous, caring practitioner and a very interesting guy who loves to chat you up about his hobbies and family. He’s talked quite a bit about his wife and their two girls, and in my mind, I’ve always viewed them as nothing short of amazing.

When Matthew was a few months old, I ran into Dr. H who knew us immediately and introduced Matthew and me to his wife (I was with a good friend who was also his patient, and was currently pregnant and seeing him, but he didn’t know her name top-of-mind). She was wonderful. Outgoing, interested, engaged. 6 weeks after Bryson was born, and a day before my 6 week visit with him, our family ran into his at a coffee joint. We met his oldest daughter who was so kind and loving towards Matthew, which we REALLY appreciated given all the attention the new baby was getting. At my appointment the next day, I asked Dr. H when his daughter would be ready to babysit and he said to ask next year because she’d be getting close in a year.

So this past Sunday night, we ran into Dr. H and his family at a local park. His girls whisked Matthew off for 45 minutes to play basketball while we adults chatted. I talked with Mrs. H and B talked to Dr. H. We talked about all sorts of things, including babysitting. Mrs. H and Dr. H said that the girls are wanting to start watching kids, and I got pretty excited. We agreed that this summer would be the right time to discuss it further and the girls were so excited.

Watching his girls with Matthew melted my heart. They giggled with him, swung him around, cheered him on… It was precious! When it was time to part ways, the three of them came to us holding hands, with Matthew in the middle of his two new friends. My heart danced.

The next night, I stopped at the Y to get some t-ball, soccer, and preschool recreation info and ran into Mrs. H. Is this sounding like fate? We said hello and their younger daughter talked about how fun it was to play with Matthew the night before. As I left, I thought, “seize this opportunity.” I turned around and said, “Say, B and I were talking last night after we saw you and were wondering if the girls would like to be ‘mothers helpers’ this summer.” Mrs. H asked what that meant and when I explained it, she said, “funny, because on our way home, J (Dr. H) said he was going to text you to see if you would want to bring the boys over to leave them with us so the girls could get to know them and get used to babysitting.”
MUTUAL INTEREST!!!!

I asked if it would be ok to email Dr. H (some day I’ll be able to call him J, but not yet) and she said please do, let’s make this happen.

I just emailed him this morning. This is going to happen. I love the idea of our boys getting comfortable and close to these girls who could (and likely will) end up being their sitters/buddies for many years. I love knowing that these girls are already enchanted by him and are excited to get to know him more. You should have seen the younger girl on Monday night when Mrs. H and I talked about the girls helping me this summer. “Yes, Mom! Please!!!” It doesn’t get better than that!

So yeah, I’m super excited about this!


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Six Weeks Later

I had my 6-week post delivery check-up with Dr. H. today. B joined me because we had a very important thing to discuss – the possibility (or not) of having a third child.

When Bryson was delivered via scheduled C-section 6 weeks ago, Dr. O found a uterine window.  I wrote about that at length in Bryson’s birth story.

B was of the mind that we were done building our family after discussions with two of the practice’s OB’s who made this sound like a big deal.  Be aware that neither OB told us NOT to have a third child, but they both stressed the seriousness of the uterine window had I gone into labor at all (prior to our scheduled C-section or during a VBAC delivery).  The scenarios they discussed with us scared us both, but really got to B.  However, B said that we would decide if a third baby was a possibility after talking with Dr. H.

Dr. H said that yes – going into labor would have been “a disaster” this time around not knowing that the window was there.  He confirmed that I would have definitely had a rupture given the location and size of the window and that it very easily could have happened at home had I labored prior to our planned C-section.  He confirmed that yes – ruptures are often times catastrophic and that 20% of ruptures result in dead or brain-damaged babies.

But he also said that the uterine window is no reason to avoid a third pregnancy.  He stressed that he is very conservative and sees no reason to tell us to stop – but that we should stop at 3 (which is great because we don’t want 4!).

B asked all sorts of questions about risks to the baby and to me, how we would handle a third pregnancy, etc.  He asked more questions than I did, which surprised me because we had not even talked about a third child since we came home from the hospital.  I honestly thought that in his mind – we were done.  His questions made me wonder if he was open to a third.

After the appointment, I went to get Matthew and told our neighbor that I thought that B may be open to third – and I was so thrilled to say it out loud!  I then thought, “I better ask B before I get my hopes up.”

I asked him tonight at dinner – and he said, “I am open to a third.  But let’s talk about it next year because things are hectic right now and we need to forget how hard things are before deciding.”  Such an honest answer!  And he’s right – things are hectic right now.  Bryson likes to be held ALL THE TIME (and that’s not really fair to say, because he’s spent probably 2-3 hours of awake time not in our arms today – but that doesn’t mean he liked it!) and he is quite fussy.  Matthew is growing tired of the fussiness and is becoming quite irritable himself by the end of the day.  We need to trudge through this time and forget about it – so that we can get excited about the possibility of another baby.  With that said, however, we did muse a little tonight about having three boys or having a girl next (and the types of big brothers Matthew and Bryson would be to her).

But we need to get through this time… we need to get through it… and we will get through it.  (I feel like we’re almost through it now because Bryson gets better every day.)

But… my hopes are up.  If we’re open to it now, when things are hard, then I have to imagine we’ll give it a go.  We believe in giving as many of our embryos as possible a chance at becoming babies.  The issue we’ll be up against is whether or not our 5 frozen embryos will give us another baby – because we will not do another full cycle.  Those days are behind us.

We have 5 tiny chances at a third baby.

My hopes are up!  (I already said that, didn’t I?)

 


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Scares and Realizations

We had a bit of a scare yesterday – and I’ll start by saying that everything is fine.

I had an earlier start than normal yesterday morning because Matthew and I were both ready to get the day started.  B had taken off for the gym at 5:30 and I never really fell back asleep after he left, so by the time Matthew got up at 7:00 and finished breakfast and his normal Curious George viewing by 8:15, we were ready to get a move-on!

As I hopped in the shower, I wondered why I hadn’t felt Bryson move yet.  I thought and thought about the last time I felt him move, and the last time was around 11:30 the night before.  I didn’t panic, but was a bit concerned.  As we showered, I thought back to when I got up to use the bathroom at 3:00 and again at 5:30 that morning, and realized that despite his normal routine, Bryson didn’t move.  As I tried not to freak out and rush our shower, my mind was racing as I was trying to shake Bryson awake.  Nothing was working.

When we finished up, I promptly got Matthew dressed and then downed a bunch of cold water.  Nothing.  I texted B that I needed him home and why.  I tried calling him too.  He wasn’t responding.  I leaned up against the bathroom counter which always gets Bryson riled up, and again – nothing.  I laid on the floor and had Matthew sit on my belly (Bryson hates that), and again – nothing.  I laid on my side in the bed and talked to B long enough to just tell him to get home NOW, and again – nothing.  Back to the bathroom counter I went and I thought maybe I felt something, but then realized it was my pulse I was feeling.  My mind kept going to those awful places you can’t help, and I was feeling scared that we were maybe in some trouble.

I don’t do kick counts with this baby.  I did with Matthew since he didn’t move a ton, but Bryson is so predictable.  I ALWAYS know the last time I felt him moving because he’s moving, and kicking the hell out of me, all the time.  When I get up to use the restroom in the night, he wakes up too.  When I get up to check on Matthew when he’s sick, Bryson gets up too.  The minute I’m up in the morning, he’s up and making his presence known very firmly, and for hours at a time.  He’s an active baby.  Realizing that I’d felt nothing from him in over 9 hours was freaking me out, especially when my efforts at waking him up were going un-noticed by him.

As I stood at that bathroom counter, wondering if I should call the doctor (in two pregnancies so far, I’ve only called the doctor once with a concern), the phone rang.  It was the triage nurse – B had called her after we hung up.  She asked what was going on, asked if I was doing kick counts (I explained why I don’t need to – and why I was freaking out), and told me what she wanted me to do.  I was to eat something high in sugar, drink more cold water, and lay down for up to an hour, or until I felt 10 movements.  I know all of this, and was trying it leading up to this point (besides the sugar because we don’t have that stuff in the house), but I really needed to just FOCUS and not have a toddler to tend to.  I ate Matthew’s rejected blueberries and a banana and got in bed just as B was getting home.  He came home to me in tears, waiting desperately for some movement.  I asked him to get me a super icy water bottle and with that and the banana, Bryson finally woke up.  He wasn’t near as active as he usually is, but as time went on, he got stronger and I only counted the good kicks because I wasn’t messing around with this.  It took 16 minutes from the first strong kick to the 10th – so that’s pretty good.  I laid there longer just letting him beat on me… feeling good knowing he was OK.  (And I called the nurse back, letting her know that things were fine.)

After that, our day really started and we had a great day.  I think it’s amazing how quickly things can go from a complete panic attack to perfectly fine.  All I needed was for my baby to move like he usually does and I could move on.

What did come from all of this is B’s realization that we really are close to having this baby and he needs to keep his phone with him and turned up at all times, my realization that we must keep something sugary in the house in case this happens again (my awesome neighbor gave me a Snic.kers bar for this – and it’s been hard not eating it!), and… I finally packed for the hospital.  Because this baby is REAL and he is coming any time now.  I’ll be 36 weeks this Saturday, and he truly could make an appearance at any point in time.

What did I pack?  I want to list it here in case we have another baby in a couple of years.  With Matthew, I just packed shit – lots of it.  I didn’t need a bunch of it so I’m not doing that this time around.  I was very methodical:

  • 3 of my own maternity/nursing hospital gowns (I highly recommend these – they’re pretty and more comfortable!)
  • 5 baby nightgowns (all worn by Matthew – they are so cute!)
  • 2 muslin swaddling blankets
  • 2 swaddlers just in case he’s good at getting his hands out of the hospital blankets used to swaddle him
  • 2 “coming home” outfits for Bryson (I will decide which one he wears once he’s born)
  • 1 “coming home” hat for Bryson
  • 1 pair of “coming home” booties for Bryson
  • 2 newborn baby hats for photos (thank you, Etsy!)
  • 1 special blanket for Bryson (bought this today at my favorite baby boutique – yay!)
  • Ear plugs (B will be with me and can wake me when Bryson wakes up in the night)
  • Contact solution, case, toothbrush, toothpaste, makeup, hair products, lip balm, etc.
  • Med.ela hydrogel pads for relieving sad nipples

I will pack an outfit for me to come home in later on – I need to keep wearing my faves for now!

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Today has been much better – Bryson is back to his normal self and beating me up for hours at a time.  I prefer it this way!

 

 


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And So it Goes

I had Wilson’s anatomy scan today (“Wilson” is the name we’re trying out for BB2).  B was out-of-town at an unavoidable meeting.  Dr. H tried so hard to move the scan so he could be there, but we were pushing up against the end of the anatomy scan window, so I had to go alone.

After our elective gender scan 3.5 weeks ago, I had no concerns.  I skipped right on in when I was called back.  I can feel Wilson moving a lot now, so I don’t worry about finding a heartbeat anymore during ultrasounds, which is nice.

Not the scan to go alone to.

During the scan, the tech spent a LOT of time on Wilson’s stomach.  You know how you just know when something seems off?  That’s how I felt.  She kept measuring this black circle, over and over and over again.  I knew not to ask her what she was doing.  She seemed rather serious.  Red flag #1.  I also noticed that when she measured most things, she’d label them on the screen.  She was not labeling the black “thing.”  Red flag #2.  And finally, at the end after not a single attempt at a 3D scan, I asked, “no 3D picture today?”  She seemed startled and said that she could try again and quickly said, “the placenta is too close to his face, so I can’t get it.”  Red flag #3.

I went out to the waiting room and waited for Dr. H’s nurse to call me back.  She was her normal cheery self, so I forgot all about the red flags.  That’s how I work – just distract me, please!  We chatted about her impending move out-of-state and her fiancée’s residency.  We discussed my second trimester screening results (all good!) and my blood pressure.  Etc. etc. etc.  She left to get Dr. H.

Dr. H popped his head in and said that they were working on scheduling my c-section and that he’d be right back.  OK!  He came in saying “June 25th at 7:00 – with Dr. O.  You’ll need to be there EARLY.  Does that work?” with the grin that defines this man!  YES – that works!  He then said, “now, I don’t want you to freak out.”

Ugh.

He then went on to say that there was an anomaly on Wilson’s stomach.  I told him I knew that from how the scan went.  He was a bit surprised, but then not so surprised.  He showed me that pesky little black circle that the tech kept measuring over and over again.  What is it?  Well, they don’t know.  They have no idea.  It could be nothing, it could be something.  I was immediately booked with a perinatologist (MHM) for next Friday (9 long days from now).  That’s the soonest they can get me in due to their overwhelming practice.

I kept it together rather well.  I teared up here and there, but never cried.  Dr. H said that it’s not something to freak out about, but that he would be worried if it was his kid.  That’s why I love this man – he is so down-to-earth and REAL.  As we talked it through, I started getting concerned.  “So, if it is something, we’ll just fix it after he’s born, right?”  Well, not necessarily.  That made me almost cry.  He said again that we have no idea what it is, but that some things aren’t fixable.  But he hopes this is nothing and if it’s something, that we can fix it.  He also said that by the time I see the peri next week, it could be gone.  That would be nice.  I then made the mistake of asking how big it is.

“Tiny.”

“How tiny?”

“About 0.8cm.”

“How big is his stomach right now?”

“A little over double that.”

Almost tears again.  This “thing” is almost half the size of Wilson’s stomach.  That concerns me.  A lot.

Dr. H knows how my mind works and mentioned that they rarely see cancer in newborns.  What what what?  My mind hadn’t even gone there (yet).  I’m sure it would have, while home alone, so it was good of Dr. H to say that he didn’t think that was a concern.  So I asked what it looks like.  A cyst-type thing, but they really have no idea.

Dr. H and I talked about the fact that everything else checked out just fine, and that the “catastrophic” things they look for aren’t there.  He stressed again that this thing could be gone by next week.  We then talked about the appointment in a week.  Dr. H said that Dr. W sees the “worst of the worst” and the folks in his practice have built up some pretty tough exteriors.  To that, I said, “so I won’t expect them to be all nice like you guys here.”  Precisely.  He said that Dr. W will meet with us right after the scan with a diagnosis and/or next steps.

I started to tear up again.

He told me that B must be at that scan with me (of course he will be).  I started to get scared about the whole thing and asked him when he’ll be updated.  He said if it’s bad, that Dr. W will text him right away.  If it’s fine, he’ll be updated within a few hours.  I asked when my next appointment with Dr. H is and he said not until March 13th.  I was crying at this point, choking back tears.  Dr. H looked at me and said, “Courtney, if you walk out of there confused, or scared, or concerned, or anything, you just call me.  Call me from the parking lot.  You call me if you just want me to tell you it’s fine.  Just call me.”

I got myself together so that I wouldn’t be the woman walking out of the OB who scares the hell out of everyone in the waiting room.  I wasn’t even out the door of the building before texting B.  “You need to step out right now.”  He called me not even one minute later.  I fell apart.  I sobbed in the parking lot, I sobbed in the car.  B sounded stunned and worried.  I can’t imagine being him, making that call, and the first thing he hears is, “there may be a problem.”  We talked it through and he sounded more and more concerned, and was very upset that I was so upset and alone.

I went to pick Matthew up at the neighbors’ and I could not get there soon enough.  I drove as fast as I could to get to him.  I just needed to be with him.  Bless his little heart, he came running to me and gave me a huge hug.  I cried on his little shoulder.

I told my neighbor about it and she comforted me.  And then I collected my boy and drove home.  Thank god for him.  He kept me distracted until lunch with a good friend, and she took over from there.  After lunch, I brought Matthew home and it took everything in me to put him down for a nap.  I just wanted to keep holding him.  I wanted to keep rocking him.  I wanted to keep smelling his hair and feeling his breath on my cheek as he dozed off.

I don’t think I wanted to be alone.

I got a lot more hugs from Matthew throughout the day as I easily resisted bing-ing (because we don’t go.ogle anything in this house) what we saw on the scan.  I won’t research this.  There’s no need – it will only scare and upset me.  I called my little sister to tell her, since I talk to her almost every day and not telling her would be lying.  I advised her that I am not telling my parents because I can’t take their unwanted advice, drama, and research on the situation.  Until there’s something to know, there’s nothing to tell.  And right now, there’s nothing to know.

B came home early from his trip and asked if we could try to go to the university hospital sooner for the scan.  I told him that I like the timing – that a week gives it time to grow, or shrink, or – hopefully – disappear.  If we could get the scan this week, they’d just tell us to come back in a week or so anyway.  I’m good with the timing and he seems to be too.

My mind has already gone in certain directions.  I told B that I want Wilson formally named before the scan on Friday.  I want him to be a “whole person” before we get the verdict.  He agrees, but rubbed my shoulder and said, “he already is a whole person.”  That was the perfect thing to say at that very moment.  I needed to hear that.

We’ve also decided that his birth, no matter how this thing turns out, will be our event only.  There will be no one waiting in the waiting room as we deliver, as both sets of our parents did last time.  We will need to discuss birth plans with our doctors and sort out when we can nurse him, if and when he’ll go for a scan to check the “thing,” and if and how they’ll treat the “thing” if it’s still there when he’s born.  Even if this thing disappears before he’s born, I still want an ultrasound almost immediately after he’s born just to be sure we’re in the clear.  The only people who will be meeting Wilson right away are his mom, dad, and big brother.

So – there it is.  My 20 week scan was far from perfect.  It started well with a cooperative baby and quickly became a bit concerning.  It went from being a bit concerning to being altogether terrifying.

We won’t know anything for over a week.

And so it goes…


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Where I’ve Been

I have been a bad blogger lately, and not because I don’t want to be blogging, but because some crazy stuff was going on that was taking my full attention whenever there was time to think.

A week or so ago, B messaged me via Skype about a possible move out-of-state for a new position.  The location of the position is my #2 choice on my list of desirable cities (Minneapolis), so I was very optimistic early on.  The possible move was highly confidential at the time and I had to limit my discussions about it with people not in the area.  Thank God for my friends on Skype!  We talked it though before B even got home to really go over it with me, and I had already decided that the move was a good idea for our family because A) it’s Minneapolis, B) the airport there would afford us much better travel options (to visit my Skype and bloggy friends – HA!), and C) it’s still close to my friends and family here in Iowa.  It really was a win-win.

But then I started to worry a bit.  I’m almost 20 weeks pregnant and I LOVE my OB and nurse.   A move away from them would be devastating at this juncture.  The move would have to happen by March 1, and we have a house to sell and it’s not one that would sell quickly (we don’t think it would, anyway).  Paying a mortgage for who-knows-how-long while paying rent in the new city would be financially difficult (I hate nothing more than money stress I and avoid it at all costs).  Packing an entire house of stuff with a growing belly would not be the easiest thing in the world.  What about our embryos back in Iowa?  (I did decide that if we decided to try for baby #3, that I would just come back to cycle here with my clinic = problem solved.)

A lot was going through my mind.  BUT – I was still in favor of the move because Minneapolis is a great city, and more importantly, the move sounded like it could be great for B’s career.

When B got home that night, I was pretty quiet.  I just had a lot going through my mind.  Then he mentioned that things in the current office will likely change next year due to account realignments, and I fell apart.  I mean, I sobbed my eyes out as I cooked dinner at the stove.  The idea of B not working every day with his partner, N, and us not being able to see her and her family as often as we do put me over the edge.

The next night, we talked it over much more rationally (more rationally for me – B was always rational!) after I had come back to the decision that the move was a good thing, even given all the things that had me worried.  During this discussion, B explained why he wasn’t sure it was the right move right now.  GAH!  However, we decided that MSP is where we want to end up in the near future (2-3 years) so it’s good that this opportunity came up to get us to think about MSP as a good landing-place for us.  B said he wanted to explore the opportunity further, but that he thought that he’d pass on it and focus on opportunities here for the next couple of years before heavily pursuing opportunities in Minneapolis.

PERFECT!  We had come to a great conclusion – stay here for now (and birth Baby Boy #2 (BB2) here with Dr. H) and start planning a near-future move for Minneapolis.  This was what I needed to get on with our weekend (it was only Friday night) – and get on with it we did!  The weekend was great!

We did not discuss the possible opportunity at all during the weekend until Sunday night, when I asked B if he was still thinking the same thing that we’d discussed on Friday night, and he said yes.  We talked about risk versus reward and still agreed that growing his career here in Iowa is probably the best option right now for our family.

Then Monday came.  B explored things further and talked with those who suggested him for the position.  He was rethinking things, and I was freaking out.  I wasn’t freaking out because of the possible move because, again, I LOVE MSP.  I was freaking out about the timing of it.  I was freaking out as a pregnant mother of a toddler who would likely have to do most of the packing and moving due to the timing of the whole situation (they needed the position filled and functioning by March 1).  I was freaking out about the idea of staying behind as we tried to sell the house, a process that could take months.  I was freaking out about not knowing where BB2 would be born.

B discussed this opportunity (that went from being a possible opportunity to a slam-dunk if he wanted it) with many people he respects a great deal, and everyone had a different opinion (of course they did!).  I have a very strong business background, so I understand the dilemma that B was facing.  He was needing to make some serious career decisions that were not easy, and I didn’t want to put any pressure on him.  I wanted him to decide what was best for his career and future – because no matter what decision he made, I would support him 100%.

But this was hard.

This past week was a very hard week.  I didn’t cry at all, but I didn’t talk much either.  I withdrew.  I told one local friend about it last Friday, I discussed it twice with my little sister who used to live in MSP, and then I never SPOKE about it again unless B was updating me on the status of the situation.  The ladies on Skype were busy living in completely different time zones, or having babies and the such, so I turned inward.  I didn’t even have a counseling session last week so I couldn’t talk through any of this with Dr. D!  Turning inward is not something I do well  😉

As things unfolded, it looked more and more like this was NOT the move for us at this time.  B made that official just yesterday.  It was a huge relief for me – not because we’re not moving right now, but because the decision is made and communicated.  We have decided that we will likely be moving, though, in the next 2-3 years, if things work out as we would like.

And I can talk about it now.  Which is great – but now there’s nothing to talk about  😉