So we made it to two years of this symbiotic relationship of parenting and childhood, and it amazes me how quickly two years has passed. It seems only a little while ago that this tiny little baby was put in my arms in the hospital, unable to even hold up his head on his own. And now he runs our house.... kinda. It's hit and miss some days as to who is really in charge, but I like to think that he knows that Mom knows what she's doing. (I really don't, but please don't tell him!) So to celebrate us both making it two years (!!!!!!) we threw a little birthday bash for the monkey boy! And it was contruction themed because that is his big deal ever since he first laid eyes on a backhoe. And yes I actually do know the difference between a backhoe and an excavator and a front loader. My mother in law trying to help the birthday boy share the wrecking ball game with his friends. Sharing is a concept we're stil
I don't know where to start, but I don't want to forget my second birth story. Even though it didn't end as happily as anyone wished it had, it still is a birth story. I was nine weeks and 2 days pregnant with our second child, when I started bleeding just ever so slightly. Enough to notice when using the bathroom, but not enough to have felt serious cramping. But soon after noticing the bleeding, the cramping started. I called my on-call OB GYN and they gave me the best medical advice they could; "It is normal to have spotting between weeks 7 to 12" and "Make sure to stay off your feet for as much as possible" then I was told "If the bleeding increases come in to the Assessment Center and they will run tests". Honestly none of that made me feel any better, I think I knew in my heart what was happening. I just didn't want to accept it. I try to live by the motto of "hope for the best, plan for the worst," but in this