Gametes In Love

As we all know, storks bring couples babies. And if you’ve been following us for awhile you know that our stork unfortunately inherited my terrible sense of direction so is probably still circling the forests of Bolivia with an upside down map. As such we had to replace said stork with a higher tech alternative with “M.D.” in their name. White feathers, white lab coat… same difference.

It’s been almost a year since 7 of my gametes were introduced to 7 of S’. December 8th last year was my egg retreival. To commemorate the occasion, I took G to the RE clinic so that he could meet his “stork”.

Several weeks after G was born we got a call from the clinic to follow up. They asked us to bring him in. Honestly, this request took me aback. Although I understand that it’s great for staff morale, I really didn’t want to do anything that would upset current patients by reminding them why they were there in the first place. I debated it for a long time and, in the end, sentiment won over and we went. I asked for as late in the day time as possible as to avoid a full waiting room. When we arrived I was relieved to see that there was no-one waiting, and fortunately it stayed that way while we were there. Each time the door opened though, I got a nervous jolt. I really, really feared upsetting anyone.

The one thing I didn’t expect was how I would feel being back. Walking into that office brought back many memories. I remembered the chairs by the door S and I sat in while waiting on the day of the retrieval… the way I felt at each appointment… the nervous optimism each time I arrived, and the twinge of disappointment at my weak response to the meds when I left.  I wondered if we were to ever try again if I would feel the same way. Honestly, keeping G from fussing and crying while we waited kept me from crying. Although I was happy we were there together, I was also relieved when we got back in the car to go home. I was happy to leave those emotions back in the clinic and genuinely hope to not open the door back to them until the next time we go.

I didn’t really know what to say to Dr. B when she came out. I must have said “thank you” in about a dozen different ways, although I think G’s smiles at her were probably the best of all. She looked genuinely happy to see him.

I am glad we went, and now G has met his “stork” 🙂

Pics from G’s first Thanxgiving week-end with my parents

G’s morning routine is to wake up sometime between 6 and 7. Whereas this works for him, starting off a day with him that early produces one tired mommy.  So I’ve gotten into the habit, just in the past week, to get him out of his crib, change him and then bring him back into our room with me where we cuddle, I feed him and we fall back asleep. Typically I can milk out about another 2 hours of sleep with him this way.

Today I got lucky. 6:30 wakeup, quick diaper change, a 20 minute breakfast for him and he was out. As was I. He woke up one more time, one more snack, then out again… until 10! It was sweet!

… until I picked him up and my sheet under his bottom had a biiiiiiig wet spot over it. I know it wasn’t me, and his dad was long gone, so there leaves only one culprit — the G-man. Granted, he was in that diaper for 4 hours, but we haven’t had a leak that bad in a long time. I’m pretty happy right now we have a waterproof pad on our mattress.

So now I gotta think about what to do next (aside from the obvious change the sheets). Is our morning cuddle & nap routine done, or do I need to invest in some underpads for his visits?

Who am I kidding? Sleep is too good to pass up. I guess I’ll be sleeping on some crunchy sheets for awhile. Besides, how can I give this up:

Isn’t he an angel when he sleeps?

Much to the horror of anyone who is not deaf, I’ve been singing to G a bunch. I’ve forgone any actual lyrics to songs and have started making up my own. Here for example is the diaper song G’s been subjected to over the last two days.

Note: not all words may be found in the Merriam Webster dictionary

[to the Adams family theme song]

They’re wet or they are mucky,
And changing can be sucky!
They’re occasionally yucky,
The diapers on the Griff!

The Kissaluvs are purdy,
But not when they are dirty.
Yet I’m sure glad they’re sturdy,
The diapers on the Griff!

When G hears this he smiles and laughs. Most probably because when I sing I look like a fool (and probably sound like one too). Either way… until he’s old enough to tell me to stay quiet he’ll be subjected to more of the above.