Welcome, World!

That's right. (Scooter's sign could also say,
"I ate a couch cushion this week," but this is a happy blog entry.)

I've been keeping this top-secret pregnancy blog for over 2 months, and we couldn't be more thrilled to finally share it with all of you. I can't believe we've made it to this point.

So, yep. After experiencing hell on earth, saying goodbye to 3 babies, and crying more tears than anybody should have to cry in an entire lifetime, Danny and I are pleased to announce...

I'm 13 weeks pregnant.

Here's the super short story:  We're expecting a baby on April 5, 2012! (11/27/12: Our due date changed to April 2nd.) Wahoo!!

Here's the short-ish story: 

July 23, 2012:  I get a very early positive pregnancy test (at only 3 weeks, 1 day pregnant).

August 11, 2012:  At 5 weeks, 6 days pregnant, we rush to the emergency room after lots and lots of horrific bleeding--and I know I'm miscarrying again. Surprisingly, an ultrasound shows that I have a hemorrhage that's causing the bleeding and pain--and a healthy little baby, measuring right on track!

August 14, 2012:  We learn that the hemorrhage is actually our baby's twin that had passed away. Surviving baby has a healthy heart rate of 129bmp and is the perfect size for his/her age (6 weeks, 2 days). Cue biggest roller coaster ride of emotions ever.  

August 29, 2012:  Baby has a strong heart rate in the 170s and is still looking great at 8 weeks, 3 days.

September 12, 2012:  At 10 weeks, 3 days, we have a perfect ultrasound (and I'll remember this as the day I actually start to believe that we might really be bringing this baby home with us).

September 26, 2012:  Another great doctor's appointment at 12 weeks, 3 days (no ultrasound is necessary this time, but we hear a beautiful heartbeat on the doppler).

For the long story, feel free to go back and read the 29 blog entries leading up to this one. Be sure to check out my personal favorite, "Surprise Announcement Party," from September 23rd. 

It goes without saying that there's a special place in my heart for my friends who are struggling on their journeys to parenthood. I'm rooting for you with everything I have.

I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank anybody who's cheered Danny and me on, prayed for us, or reached out to us in any way, shape, or form over the last year or so--the few people who weren't afraid to acknowledge our lost babies. You know who you are. Your thoughtfulness will never, ever be forgotten. You were with us through the worst; now, join us for the best.

Here we go! This is gonna be amazing.

Because I love bloopers. 

13 Weeks = Peach

I'm exactly 13 weeks pregnant today, and our baby is the size of a peach.

Apparently, Peach already has fingerprints! Imagine how teeny-tiny and adorable they'd be.

Of course my pregnancy symptoms would start to kick in at the very end of my first trimester (Whaaaat?? End of my first trimester!!), when I started to assume I'd dodged them. I've had some pretty killer heartburn lately that's really taking a toll on my sleep. This is unacceptable, since I'm so, so, so, so tired anyway--even when I do sleep well (as well as I can, I mean, considering I'm getting up 3 times a night to pee).

Wait, I'm complaining. My baby has fingerprints!

Sheep Thrills

On my way into Target this afternoon, I realized I was silently chanting my shopping list, which is something I do often--only today, it happened to be "yogurt, toilet paper, present for baby." I smiled my way through the entire store (and bought way more things than just yogurt, toilet paper, and a present for baby).

I tried to find a cute outfit, but their gender neutral stuff is very, very gender neutral (ducks!), so I ventured over to the stuffed animals. I'm glad I did because I found this sheep, which just so happens to be our nursery colors:

It's less baby blue in real life. Oh, and I'm a sucker for a sweet book.
(And yes, that's a cat on the table.)

Blooper!

On an unrelated note, I'll be 13 weeks pregnant tomorrow, and Danny and I plan on telling Facebook our baby news. We're obviously very excited, but I can't help but wonder if we'll unwittingly be breaking somebody's heart. I know how painful it is to open up Facebook and get slapped in the face by a pregnancy announcement. We've been very open about our losses, though, so I hope knowing that our journey has been filled with heartache will help soften the blow for anybody who doesn't want to see baby stuff on Facebook right now.

Team Green

My next ultrasound is 4.5 weeks from today, and it’s the biggie—the one where the tech is able to determine the baby’s sex. It’s crazy to think that in just 32 days, I could start referring to Plum as “he” or “she,” rather than all this annoying “s/he” business.

Well, that's if we wanted to know this baby’s sex.

Yep, that’s right! Danny and I have decided to join Team Green (you know, not Team Blue, Not Team Pink—but Team Green) and not find out what we're having beforehand. Crazy, right?


It should be called "Team Yellow." Plum will probably get lots of shower gifts that look like this.

Danny’s wanted to be on Team Green since the beginning, and let me tell you, I thought he was being ludicrous at first. I remember telling him he was out of his mind, that this is 2012, and that there's no way in hell I would ever not find out. I'm way too Type A to not have everything ready when the baby gets here. I completely threw the dumb idea out the window, and I was clear that no further discussion was required.

But the more I thought about it, the more I fell in love with the idea of Danny being the one to tell me, “It’s a ______!” in the delivery room. How sweet will that be? I'm sure he'll be blubbering so hard that I won't be able to hear him the first time. Whenever I feel like breaking down and finding out (which will probably be often), I'll just try to imagine this moment--and hopefully, it'll restore my willpower.

Oh, and I've decided that I want to do the nursery in gray and turquoise, regardless of the baby's sex, so that won't be an issue. I'll just add pops of orange or coral once the baby's here.

So there you have it! This baby will remain "s/he" until s/he's born.

Sounds Like a Train

Well, that was a boring appointment, but, like one of my friends just reminded me, boring is good. Since my OB was able to find a strong heartbeat so quickly with her doppler, there was no need for an ultrasound. Waaah. I was really looking forward to seeing what Plum's up to these days.

When I showed my OB exactly where she'd find the heartbeat, she clearly thought I was insane. ("It's pretty early. Are you sure it's the heartbeat your're hearing with your doppler? There are lots of sounds in there."). But there it was, right away--an inch to the left of my freckle.

She told us that the old wive's tale is that if the heartbeat sounds like a train, the baby's a boy, and if it sounds like galloping horses, it's a girl. She said, "Sounds like a train to me." Have I mentioned Danny's convinced this baby's a boy? Well, he is--and this just solidified it for him.

My next appointment is a whoppin' 5 weeks away. (Okay, 4 weeks, 6 days... but who's counting?) I've graduated from being spoiled by my OB, and I'm just a regular ol' patient now. This is probably a good thing, too.

12 Weeks = Plum

I'm 12 weeks, 2 days pregnant, and our baby is the sized of a plum. In case you weren't aware, plums are gigantic.

This was the best looking plum I could find. Dammit, Giant Eagle.

This week, Plum is developing reflexes, and if s/he were poked, he or she would move. S/he's also opening and closing his/her fingers, and curling his/her toes. (It'll be a lot easier to write about this baby when I know if s/he's a boy or a girl.) Cute! I hope we get to see some of this finger and toe business at our ultrasound appointment tomorrow.

Remember when I had eyes? Yep, I'm just as tired as I look. 

Supposedly, my hormones should be calming down a bit, so my nonexistent morning sickness should disappear--and will probably be replaced by headaches and dizziness. I actually did have the headache from hell on Sunday, and I'd be cool with that being my only one.

Oh, and another symptom. Admittedly, I've always thought food cravings and aversions were stupid and kind of made up, but Danny made a seafood thing for dinner last week, and I had to pick out all the shrimp. I usually love shrimp, but just the thought of eating it made me gag. And it still does. Ewwww, shrimp. I'd love to develop an aversion to cookies and Pop-Tarts--and carbs, in general.

Stay tuned for an ultrasound picture of Plum tomorrow. I'm really happy; this is the first appointment I haven't been poop-my-pants nervous about. I'm sure I'll get butterflies on the way to the doctor's office--and I did have a horrific miscarriage dream last night--but with all of my other appointments, I was a wreck days in advance. Baby steps.

Surprise Announcement Party

There was a pretty memorable party at the Celis household last night. We invited our closest friends (yes, we have 46 "closest friends") over for a taco party, under the guise of belatedly celebrating Danny's college graduation. Here's the photo from the Facebook event page:

This is a big, fat lie! (And please excuse my lack of design skills.)

Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate at all (hello, rain), so the tables, chairs, and tent set up outside went unused. Forty-eight troupers crowded into our tiny little house, shoulder to shoulder. Think college house party.

When the party was in full swing, Danny sneaked away and came back with our "Surprise! We're having a BABY" cake.  

This is clearly before the party, since there aren't 48 people in sight--but I had to include it because Danny looks so cute.

Then, as people were still processing what was going on with the cake, he busted out of his snap-up shirt to reveal his "New Dad Est. 2013" shirt. Needless to say, the crowd went wild.

Tommy's reaction is priceless. Totally makes this picture.

We'll never, ever, ever forget this moment, and we're very grateful we have so many wonderful friends to share in our joy.

Right after we shared our big news. Look how proud Danny is! And look at the cake behind us! (And the people trying to squeeze into the room to see what was going on.)

Oh, and dang, it feels good to be out of the closet. I can talk about my baby now! I promise not to be too annoying (in real life, I mean. I'm going to continue to be OMG BABYBABYBABY on this blog, of course)!

This one shows Danny's shirt better, but I look strange here, so I have to include the picture above, too--to prove I wasn't stoned at the party.

A better view of the pretty cake. (Thanks, Mel, for cropping out the nasty guacamole bowl!)

I should note that the cake was as good as it looked. People raved all night. Nice job, Nicole Pribula!

So, anyway, we're very sneaky, and our plan went off without a hitch (minus the weather, of course). Now, people will be expecting big news every time we have a party. Pretty sure we can't outdo this one. 

Everyone Needs a Hero (By Danny)

Amanda has been after me to write another blog, but I haven't been able to put my thoughts into words about how wonderful it is to finally be hopeful again.

It's been such a long rollercoaster of ups and downs.  So many sad memories, so many lost opportunities...

A few months ago before Amanda was pregnant, we were doing some grocery shopping at Giant Eagle.  For some reason we found ourselves in the greeting card aisle and saw this:

I started to cry.  I couldn't help but think of our lost babies and what could have been.  I wanted to be their hero.

Now, being farther along in this pregnancy than we've ever been, I still find myself overly emotional; but it's a good thing.  No longer am I sobbing because of what we lost.  Tears of joy start to flow when I think about what we have and for all the possibilities that lay before us.  I can't wait to meet our little Guido.  I can't wait for the chaos of children running amok, for family camping trips and vacations, for birthdays and sleepovers, movies and ice cream and Sunday dinners, for family traditions...

S/he'll be here before we know it, and s/he will be spoiled beyond belief.

199 Days Left

There's a personalized pregnancy countdown on the homepage of one of the websites I visit daily. The night I found out I was pregnant, it said, "258 days left," and I remember wishing I could just wake up the next day and have it say, "199 days left." I wanted to skip right over all the 200s--right over the majority of my first trimester--and just start at 199.

It obviously didn't happen overnight like that. In fact, these 59 days have draaaaagggged on and on, just like I knew they would. These have been the longest 2 months of my life... but today's the day. I have 199 days left of this pregnancy.

And I'm sure you expected me to say this, but I'm glad. I'm grateful I had to trudge through those 59 long, long days. Was I scared? You bet your ass I was. I'm still scared every day.

But every day has been amazing, too. I haven't taken one second of this pregnancy for granted, and I know that I've made memories that will last forever. I'll never forget the way Danny kissed my belly when I first told him I was pregnant. I'll never forget how absolutely blown away I was when the ER doctor told me I still had a viable pregnancy. I'll never forget Danny's sobs when we saw our tiny baby on the ultrasound screen and heard his/her perfect heartbeat for the first time. I'll never forget watching our baby dance at our 10-week ultrasound appointment, or listening to his/her heartbeat on my home doppler, and playing it over the phone for Danny. I'll remember everything.

A lot of things have been stolen from Danny and me, and I'm bitter about it. I hate that my miscarriages happened to us. Every day of this pregnancy is more precious, though--more celebrated, more memorable--than it would have been had we not suffered.

199 days left. And every single one will be glorious.

A Ridiculous Purchase for Baby

I've had my eye on Melissa & Doug's 5-foot giraffe for ages now, so it was no coincidence that last Wednesday--the day of our awesome ultrasound--Amazon e-mailed me to let me know its price had decreased. I'd told myself that if everything went well at the appointment, I'd buy a little something for Lime, so clearly, we were meant to have this giraffe.

It arrived yesterday, and I can't stop chuckling over the impracticality of it.

Hahahahahahahahahaha.

Oh, and Scooter thinks she's his girlfriend. Didn't take a picture of that, so you'll have to use your imagination. (Don't worry; she's somewhere safe and sound now, where Scooter can't get to her.)

11 Weeks = Lime

I've been anxiously awaiting lime week. I feel like we've made the transition from small foods to medium-ish foods. Some websites reference the lime during week 12, but my favorite site says it's week 11. I'm going with it.

I stood in Trader Joe's just staring at the pretty display of limes, in awe. I'm 11 weeks, 2 days pregnant, and our baby is the size of a lime!

I can't believe my baby's that big! I didn't even cheat and pick out a giant lime!

Obviously no bump yet. But those are the boobs I've been telling you about.

No new symptoms, no changes, nada. Still obsessed with the doppler (I can find that glorious heartbeat in a matter of seconds now), and still tired beyond belief (and loving every minute). No news is good news 'round these parts.

Weird Symptom

So, there's one symptom I've been dealing with that I've been too embarrassed to mention because it's pretty freaking disgusting. I know what you're thinking--something has to be pretty horrendous to embarrass me. What could it possibly be?

Wait for it...

Here's a ridiculous hint:

Yep. Stank ass breath.

I first noticed it about 3 weeks ago. The first time, I'd just turned on my computer at work, when it hit me like a ton of bricks that my mouth tasted like I hadn't brushed my teeth since I was 8. I was baffled that I'd somehow forgotten to brush. Who does that?

The next day, the same thing happened--only this time I wasn't going to accept that I'd forgotten to brush. Two days in a row? Come on. I racked my brain. Had I done anything different? Had I eaten anything different? Was anything in my life different?

That's when it dawned on me. Duh. I Googled, and sure enough. Pregnancy hormones cause abnormal plaque growth in some women. Of course I'd be one of these women.

I started flossing twice a day to keep my problem at bay, but I was still so, so self-conscious. I asked one of my support groups if anybody had dealt with this, and that's when my life was forever changed. A friend recommended I try this:

This is the toothpaste they use in Heaven. I wonder if it's $14 a tube there, too.

Holy crap. Suffice it to say that I've stopped trying to use sign language to communicate with people--and I'm back to basically never flossing my teeth. This toothpaste keeps even the nastiest of mouths (Danny will confirm that mine fit into this category until recently) feeling fresh and clean all day. 

If your breath smells like you've been swiping your breakfast from dumpsters, pick this up. It's well worth the money.  

Doppler Love

When I ordered my Sonoline B Fetal Doppler, I promised myself I'd only use it occasionally--just when I needed reassurance that everything's still okay. Ha! I haven't been able to put it down. When I busted it out earlier this week, I thought I could hear the heartbeat, and since yesterday, there's been no doubt about it. I love to call Danny at work and play it for him over the phone.

Best $55 I've ever spent.

I've probably spent a total of 2 hours today listening to the beautiful ba-doom ba-doom ba-doom of my baby's heart. Music to mama's ears.

Guido's strong, wonderful, perfect, amazing, miraculous heart rate. 

Guido

We have a wiggler! Prune was looking nice and healthy today--and was dancing around like crazy. S/he actually did an awesome little dance that reminded me very much of one of Danny's signature (drunken) moves, this one, to be exact:

Minus the drink, of course.

Much to Danny's dismay, I may be referring to this baby as "Guido" from here on out (or at least for the rest of the week. It's cuter than "Prune.") because s/he was fist pumping up a storm. My OB was laughing out loud, and in fact, she's the one who asked, "Is this baby Italian??" This baby actually is 25% Italian (and a million percent loved). Own it, little Guido, own it. 

I didn't cry (happy tears!) until my OB pointed out one of Guido's knees. My baby has knees! S/he may also be a thumbsucker. Already?? What can't this brilliant baby do?

Danny's tears started rollin' as soon as he saw Guido's first wiggle. Man, kid, you couldn't have picked a better daddy.  

This picture isn't very impressive, and I don't even care--it's because Guido's a dancing machine!

10 Weeks = Prune

I'm 10 weeks, 2 days pregnant today, and our baby is the size of a prune.

All of Prune's vital organs are fully developed and are starting to function, and s/he is starting to grow hair and fingernails. No wonder I'm so, so, so, so tired--there's a lot going on in there!

Aside from being exhausted(!) all day, every day, I feel like a million bucks. I've been very fortunate, as far as symptoms go.   

Nice eye bags. I must not have gotten the 10 hours of sleep that my body requires.

We have an appointment tomorrow, where we'll get to see our little Prune. Can't wait to see how much s/he has grown!

Note the new fat roll, which most likely has nothing to do with Prune. I'm starving, I tell ya. Starving!

9 Weeks, 5 Days: A Milestone

Today's a big deal. I'm officially more pregnant than I've ever been--or ever thought I was. I've been looking forward to this milestone since the beginning of this pregnancy. With my first pregnancy, I thought I'd reached 9w4d, but the poor baby had actually stopped growing at 6 weeks. My second pregnancy was over at 8 weeks.

Today, I'm 9 weeks, 5 days pregnant. Hallelujah.   

We celebrated this happy day by going to Target to pick out a little gift for Olive. This was Danny's first trip to the baby section since my first pregnancy, though--and he got too sad to linger for long. We saw lots of things we'd planned on buying for our first baby, and it hurt me, too. That section used to be so much fun. I remember holding a tiny pair of socks in my hand and imagining our entire perfect future.

Now, the baby section represents a joy--a naivete--that we've been robbed of--feelings that we'll never again get to experience during a pregnancy, and like so many other things in our lives now, it's bittersweet.

I ended up grabbing a pack of bibs--one of which says "worth the wait."

It feels like we've been waiting for a thousand years, but someday, I'll get to watch Danny rock our sweet little baby to sleep--and yep, it'll have been worth it.  

9 Weeks = Green Olive

Awww, yeeaah, welcome to fetushood, Olive!

That's right--our baby has officially graduated from embryo to fetus, and this week, he/she will supposedly look very much like a baby. I thought he/she looked like a cute little baby at last week's ultrasound, but I'm probably biased. (Okay, I do kind of see some gummy bear there--and perhaps a bit of alien, but still.)

Anyway, I'm 9 weeks, 2 days pregnant today, and I'm amazed that I'm already noticing physical changes. Aside from the knockers that I've already mentioned, my belly--way down low, just above my pubic bone--is undeniably different. It protrudes just enough for Danny and me to notice it, and I don't think it's from all the Pop-Tarts I've been eating because it's nice and firm. I'm definitely not sharing a picture of that, so you'll just have to trust me on this one.

Every week, Scooter gets to try a new food. He wasn't a fan of the olive.