28 weeks...errr....27 and a half...

Gosh, it's been awhile. I've been busy, yes. But I've also been a Darbi Downer so have been trying to abstain from blogging nothing but complaints. I feel guilty for not enjoying this experience fully since so many people out there have trouble conceiving or have worse pregnancies than mine.

But when something hurts, it hurts, right? And my back is that something. BIG TIME. (I had been feeling so good for about 3 weeks!!! And then BAM!)

Beginning last week, two days after the last wedding I booked for this year... the familiar pain of arthritis in my middle back started at 10 a.m. and ever since, has set up shop in my thoracic  vertebrae. It lies low for a few hours in the morning after I first get up, but then it becomes the unruly tenant who gripes and moans and plays music way too loudly and has dogs that crap on your lawn. The kind of tenant who the landlord wants to kick out but doesn't have the means to due to contractual obligations.

I have to lie down (not flat on my back, mind you, thanks to the pregnancy, but at least at an angle) before the pain will subside.

The resting buys me 1, 2, 3, sometimes 4 hours of pain-free time.

I'm sick of complaining about it. But it has totally revamped the way I've been living my life the past two weeks. My productivity hasn't been what it should be this time of year when I'm closing out the busy season. Stop-and-go has never been my modus operandi. Though, it is making me slow down a bit and just RELAX. Which I'm sure is something I should enjoy since that ability is short-lived. ha...but you can't enjoy something when you're forced to do it against your will.

Just so you can see the mess that my back is in as of 2002 (and I honestly fear a new x-ray as I'm sure the curve has worsened over time...)... here is a photo of my last xray. The pain is coming right above the fusion (this fusion was made to correct the bottom curvature of my spine in 1994--when I was 12).


So yes, I've always had back problems, but the everyday pain is new to me. My recently acquired chiropractor tells me this flare up is probably due to the relaxin hormone that is released in the 3rd trimester to loosen up joints and prepare the pelvic region for allowing the large-ticket item to pass through the birth canal. Unfortunately, relaxin doesn't discriminate and the loosening of joints and what have you isn't limited to the areas that need the relaxing. (This is why so many pregnant women have pain in their lower backs, etc...) But my pain is a different one. And there is nothing I can do for it because the Tylenol Codeine doesn't even touch it with a 10 foot pole. I could maybe get a stronger painkiller...but even if it's deemed safe for pregnancy, frequent use will make the baby addicted easily...and it could knock me out and warrant me useless anyway.

So weekly chiropractor visits are now a part of my life...and I'm trying out the very expensive and not-guaranteed efforts of acupuncture in two weeks. Other than that, I have a suspicion that the last 3 months will do me in. And I just pray it doesn't get worse or I'll be on bedrest all day long just to avoid crying. Because after awhile, it gets so bad I can't NOT cry. What does arthritis feel like, you might wonder? Like a deep-rooted toothache...but in this case, one in my back.

I know, another sob story. I'm sorry. But this is part of my journey. And I'm blogging about my journey. 

OH, and let's talk about hormones for a second. And the joys of the mood swings. *Poor Neil.

A couple of weeks ago when I opened the invitation to my first baby shower, I  laughed cuz it was so cute...but then I started bawling because it hit me that it was for MY BABY...the one that is currently IN ME. I called my friend Cara, who made the invitation, and I feel bad because I unleashed a delirious outburst of laughing and sobbing, trying to explain to her how I feel. I don't think I succeeded because she's not pregnant and because Neil came home and did something stupid, so I suddenly unleashed fury and crying on HIM. I promptly hung up the phone so I could focus on the anger. haha (Sorry, Cara.)

I also shed too many unnecessary tears when my massage clinic said they couldn't get me in on my birthday next Tuesday (Nov. 1). I hung up and felt so upset and discouraged about life in general. I need one so badly and was looking forward to treating myself to bliss on my 30th...and when they said no, I was more than crushed (I can't go anywhere else because I'm enrolled in their monthly program to save money since I need them so frequently...)

But crying is only half of it. I've had two outbursts of laughing in the past month that have left me sore, winded and dumbfounded that a human being can laugh that hard.

The first was because my husband (if you know him, this won't surprise you)... was in charge of making the online invitation for a small birthday party for me. I was teaching him how to use Evite and I told him, "you have to start with a title for the event." Without pause, he typed "Fatty Is Old" as the title of the birthday party.

I lost it.

I convulsed with shaking giggles...my eyes were sealed tight....but tears came out...as I gasped for air and thought I'd surely go into labor right there from the force of laughter coming forth. Neil was not amused after the first 3 minutes. I couldn't function though and only found his reaction even funnier. I'm just thankful that my emotions went to that end of the spectrum...toward finding such an offensive title humorous or I might be a widow right now. haha

Then last Friday on the way to Omaha, I had another moment...er....5 minutes of moments. I was driving...we stopped at CVS and then the gas station to fill up on the way out of town. Not more than 1 minute after we pulled out from the gas station, we were getting on the interstate and I slapped the steering wheel. "DAMMIT! We forgot to get gas!!"

Neil's head snapped around and his eyebrows were raised in disbelief. And then it hit me. We. Had. Just. Gotten. Gas.

Needless to say, I lost it again. Please reread the paragraph that is 3 above this one... because it all happened just like it did before. Only this time, I was driving. So despite me going out of my way to microwave my deli meat or to not clean out the litter box, I was putting my life, the baby's life...and Neil's life...at risk by not being able to keep my eyes open while I was driving and laughing. Oh yes, Danger is my middle name.

Other silly things...
if you can stand to look at my bare, mole-ly belly, here is a video from last night of lil Dub moving and grooving inside. I can't get over how weird it is to have something so independent going on inside of me. Like a party I wasn't invited to but have to host. (And disregard Neil's fake-sounding laughs in the background. He was watching that show WHITNEY on NBC...not laughing at the belly dance.)
HEre is the link:
http://youtu.be/T9Xj1rviL68

and lastly...I'll close with a photo...but there is also a funny story to this. I'm actually 27 weeks when this was taken. But one of my iphone aps calculates weeks based on the # of week I'm IN... and I'm IN my 28th week this week. So when I labeled the photo, I looked at that ap to be sure I was right...and thought it was odd that I'd not taken a photo in a month. So unlike me. But when I realized what I'd done, I didn't want to redo it and hoped no one would notice. But one of my stalkers, Lara, totally did notice and called me out on it. Thanks, jerk. ;)

What's next???
SOOOO looking forward to tomorrow... we have decided to do the 3D ultrasound (10 a.m.!!)...mostly because I need these little milestones to get me through the valleys. I am sure he'll be on the creepy-looking side since I've not gained a whole lot of weight, I'd imagine he's not exactly plump for the picking yet. Unless HE is stealing EVERYTHING I eat and taking on the fat. Which is totally fine with me.

Next weekend the baby room will be painted...so expect pics of that soon.

And two showers are around the corner...so that's exciting too.

I'm having maternity photos taken in late November. hoping it's remotely nice out still. 

Ok, must end now because I wrote this lying down as my back was throbbing...and now my wrists are feeling the odd angle of typing settle in. xoxo to you all for just reading this...and caring. :)

IT KEEPS GROWING!!!

But my hair needs to grow faster. I just got a hair cut that was supposed to look like this. And instead, I got what is below.

Anywho... this is just a quick post for the photo... be sure to read the post below it if you're wanting a typical one.

You say "just a cat," I say "my best bud"...

FIRST OF ALL:
Pregnancy update... I am 24 weeks this week! This means, the vitality of lil' Dub has significantly increased...so should he happen to come WAYYYY early, chances are good he'd survive. This is definitely a milestone in the process. I've been feeling pretty good. Not entirely comfortable at night, but I'll take it over the nausea of the first trimester. He's kicking more and more...and seems to have a decent schedule. His last punch-em bout was about 8 p.m., so he should be good until 11 p.m. tonight when i go to bed. I'm enjoy the odd feeling of him inside me, making his presence known. Though I now totally do not believe any woman can not know she's pregnant till she's birthing a baby. There is no way you would feel all these kicks and just chalk them up to indigestion. Sorry, I just won't buy it, TLC. ;)

But anyway... as for the topic of this post...
It is not written for you, dear blog reader. This is written as a record to the me who will surely become impatient with someone who has been nothing but amazing, faithful and dependable since I've known him. He's made me laugh, filled me with warm fuzzies....pride...and a love I never felt before. Once the baby comes, I am fearful that I will forget all of the above....that he'll fade on my totem pole of importance...that I will become one of those moms who puts the kids before any other love.

I'm not talking about my husband here.

I'm talking about my cat. My Kramer James Hemi Hebrank.

I have heard time and again that it happens--pets we once cherish become annoyances...they get neglected and lose their place in the family when a kid comes along.

I am writing this blog post so that I can get what I currently feel down--before any child steals my heart--so I can return to it later and remember how important Kramer was to me before any human babies come our way. And if you want to make fun of me for this silly sappiness that I'm sharing over a (I can hear the disdain)..."mere cat"... then go ahead and do it...and know that I pity YOU for not knowing this feeling for something that didn't come from your own womb... because if you have had a pet that was truly yours through and through, you will understand. And if you have a dog or a cat or a plural number of one or both, and have since had kids...please let this post remind YOU that once you were enamored with a four-legged friend...and maybe you should give him/her some extra love the next time he or she crosses your path. 

So here is the story of Kramer....

It has been 2 years this week since we moved to Kansas City. Just Neil and me... starting over, in our first house. I was working from home at the time for the same college I'd been employed with for the 2 years before that, and doing my photo biz stuff on nights and weekends.

With Neil gone during the day for his job...with no colleagues of my own to see daily... I did get a tad lonely.

Until Neil gave me the best birthday present EVER a month later. A cat.

Well technically, his gift was originally just a bag of cat food...because he knew better than to pick out what would later become my best furry chum.

I honestly never thought I'd end up a cat person. But as much as I love the happy-go-lucky and unconditionally loyal canine species, when it came to adding an actual being to our family...to taking the "next step" with Neil (you know, edging toward the parenting of a human being someday) neither he nor I even considered getting a dog. Cute, yes. Fun, yes. But the burden is 80% heavier with such a needy, dependent pet. Our schedules don't have to revolve around getting home to let a cat out. Or to keep the cat locked in a room so he doesn't chew on our shoes or our pillows, etc. Independence is INVALUABLE.

So on that chilly Sunday (Nov. 1, 2009), Neil and I headed to Belton Human Society (we had gone to Wayside Waifs, but didn't find what I was looking for: a kitten no older than 6 months, a dark tabby coat...and male...) and saw on Petfinder that BHS had two "in stock." I was giddy with the possibility that we might find our ball o' fur...but also nervous that we wouldn't and I would feel guilty for not taking one of the others that didn't quite fit my bill. Plus I did want to have some sort of connection to the animal...I had hoped there would be that intangible "take me!" plea that would speak to my heart and that would naturally send me visions of cuddling with said cat on the couch.

We got to BHS...and it was overun with animals. They are a no-kill shelter (yay!) and the staff was super patient and friendly. We asked to see the kittens and were taken back to a small room with bunks, ropes and homemade beds. We no sooner walked into the door...my eyes scouring all the moving critters who were jumping around and hissing and swatting at one another...when I looked to my left and saw a small tabby get up, stretch languidly, yawn and then stroll casually, yet with purpose, directly over to where Neil and I were standing. He rubbed against me once, and let me just say... I was smitten for this kitten. I picked his purring self up and he was so content with our rubs and cooing, and I acknowledged but wasn't familiar with the pitter-patter of my own heart as I looked at Neil and said, "I think this is the one."

But Neil was a tad more cautious and reminded me there was another kitten who qualified...he suggested we check him out too. So I asked the staff member where the other one was...and she pointed to a sleeping kitty on a chair across the room. We walked over to him and woke him up...he opened his eyes, but then closed them again. He was just as cute, but the first cat was looking up at me adoringly and gnawing gently on my fingers as I assessed his brother. I asked the staff member what the name of the cat in my arms was.

She cocked her head to one side as she looked at him and said, "That one is Kramer."

My heart soared! KRamer!!! That was my mom's maiden name! How perfect. We asked what the other one was, and she said "Seinfeld." I admit, my excitement flickered a tad because I am not a fan of that darn TV show AT ALL. Never have been...(I know, I know--I'm a rare bird...) but I decided to not let the namer's inspiration deter my own fondness for the fitting moniker.

Another 20 minutes with the furr-bucket and we were sold. I couldn't believe this purr machine was going to be MINE--well, ours.

We had to fill out the application and get all the directions etc... and right before we were checking out, the staff member ran the kitten's numbers and said, "oh, I told you wrong...this isn't Kramer. This is Seinfeld."

AGAIN with the deflation..but Neil and I looked at each other and shook our heads. "No, I said...I think his name is Kramer too." We giggled... there was no turning back.

We took him home and the rest was history. He won us over so easily....was such a good cat from day one. Rambunctious and playful, but sweet and cuddly. At night he about kneaded our cheeks off because he always wanted to lie on our heads or faces. Neil and I played strict a few nights and put him in the hallway, expecting his cries or scratches to torment us...but much to our surprise, he quietly laid outside our door and waited till the morning when we opened the door.

Over time, he calmed down at night and now, we are glum if he doesn't choose to join us in our full-sized bed.

How much I love him cannot be expressed.... it's a different type of love than what I feel for Neil or my parents or my friends. It's different than any past pets (a nod to heaven for Jock and Lucky, though). It's maternal. It's unconditional.

Our typical life with Kramer right now is like this....(again, I would like to remind you, this is not written for you, reader. It's for me...and Neil. We want to be able to remember the simplicity of our family at this stage in time. It might bore you. Or you might be amused to see how integral our feline has become in our lives...)

Monday through Friday, he wakes us up around 5:45 a.m. after he's finished with his morning meal. He comes into bed, purring wildly...crawls onto either Neil's back or chest, or onto the pillow I usually am hugging. He sprawls out until Neil's alarm goes off...at which time, he eagerly perches on the nightstand, waiting for the next alarm. Once Neil clambers out of bed, Kramer is at his heels...joining Neil in the bathroom for their morning ritual (Kramer hiding in the shower curtain or drinking water out of the sink while Neil showers.)

The two then go downstairs so Neil can have a breakfast, make his lunch, etc. I usually lie awake at this point and I can hear them conversing. Yes...conversing. Kramer talks back if spoken to. Actually, he talks when not spoken to, too. The talkiest cat I've ever met, I tell ya.

After Neil leaves for work around 7:30 a.m., if I'm still in bed (sometimes, I stay in bed, with the goal of being at my desk by 8:30 a.m.), the lucky mornings, Kramer will call to me from the foot of the steps until I invite him upstairs. (He doesn't need an invitation, but I think he's like most males and wants to hear how much he's wanted...haha) He jumps into bed with me and prowls all the way up to my shoulder where he'll collapse atop my pillow or in between my arm and my side. He'll purr some more as I rub him and tell him how much I adore him. He tells me the same with his squinting eyes.

When I get out of bed, Kramer sometimes heads downstairs to sit in the window and watch birds and squirrels...sleep...or he'll join me in my office. If it's chillier outside, he's more loving and will meow until I turn my chair to an angle so he can jump into my lap. Often, he'll curl up on my lap, other times, he'll make a bed on my desk...paying no mind to the mess of paper and daily planners any more than he would to a blanket or a pillow.

As lunch time nears, he jumps down and will meow at me, as if telling me to stop working so we can go eat together. Sometimes I actually let him call the shots and he leaps ahead of me down the stairs.

Afternoons are more of the same. If he isn't in my office, I tend to roam during my break to find him and talk to him...open a window...sit and pet him as he purrs and sleeps happily, his tail flapping.

But at 5 p.m. or so, if I'm still at my desk, he comes up like clockwork to meow at me and stare until I give him attention. He orders me to abandon work and come downstairs to wait for "Dad" and his food to go off (we have him on an auto-feeder since he's overweight and we need to have portion control with 4 meals a day).

At night, he typically favors Neil and can be found watching him doing yardwork, or lying next to him on the floor where Neil likes to watch TV. At least every other night, we give him four Greenies as treats...and since again, he's considered overweight, this involves hurling one at a time down the length of our kitchen so Kramer has to run after it. He likes the chase. And the capture.  He eats again a bit after 10 and on rare occasions, he'll show up on our bed before we fall asleep. Other nights, he comes up around 3 a.m., some times not until after he eats his morning meal. And then it all repeats.

And I love it. I cannot imagine our lives without him.

Just a few of the things I love about Kramer are:
1. How soft his fur is.
2. How he looks like a completely different cat based on how big his pupils are, and how much he's holding his neck up.
3. How he lies flat on his back on the floor and meows till we come over to him.
4. How when he does #3, we never know if he is planning on enjoying a tummy rub, or he has an evil scheme of attacking our hand to play.
5. how he hides behind shower curtains and blankets and boxes, waiting for us to cross in front so he can pounce out at us.
6. How he finds the craziest places to hide and sleep, including inside a package of waterbottles on our fridge; in boxes; under my wedding dress poof; in our dryer; on top of our cupboards; in our laundry room underneath the sink.
7. How he knows his name and if he's in the mood, he'll come when he's called.
8. How he does the cutest things, and it's hard to be mad at him.
9. I don't think I've ever been truly mad at him. Maybe once after he figured out how to get food out of his autofeeder despite the duct tape and weights we put on the contraption. But I don't even think I could say I was totally mad...because part of me was proud that he was so DAMN SMART!!
10. The feeling of contentment I get when he chooses MY lap to crawl into.
11. Knowing that he's always in the house, I never feel lonely.
12. How he'll actually play fetch (though he has to choose WHEN he does...)
13. How he can turn such random objects as a fortune cookie in its wrapper or a box into his playthings.
14. How when we get home after being gone, he waits at the door from the garage and then as soon as he hears the door knob turn, he trots over to the carpeted section in our kitchen (by the fireplace) and throws himself down on the floor, purring and meowing and kneading the carpet until we come and say hi with some loving.
15. How when he's in bed with us, even if we have to sacrifice our own space, Neil and I both sleep better.
16. How I will catch Neil and I looking at him with such adoration at the same time, that it gives me such a warm feeling inside to know that both of us love him so much.
17. He makes me take breaks, just to spend some quality time with him.
18. He is so smart with figuring things out--from opening up our screen door, to not letting the autofeeder outwit  him, to knowing if he sees a squirrel in the front tree, he can see it even better if he goes upstairs to my office window.
19. How no matter how many times I take the same damn picture of him sleeping with a paw over his face, or his two paws straight out in front of him, or him lying flat on his back like a cat rug, I never feel like I can do his cuteness justice.
20. How much he loves his whiskers rubbed or under his chin scratched.
21. How he has impacted our life this much in two years...and inspired me to write this post...and he's JUST A FREAKING CAT!

So yeah. I know... if I'm THIS into a pet...WTF will I be like when we have an actual baby? Oh, you can bet I'll be even more head over heels...and you'll be able to hear about it on here. But I do hope that when I feel like pushing Kramer out of the way with my foot with not so much as a 2nd thought as he meows the same meow he's meowed for the past two years, as he looks at me with his beautiful yellow-green eyes and flicks his tail happily... I hope I can remember how for a time, he was Neil's and my first baby, our first born. He was the first thing we ever mutually invested our hearts in. He was the one who got us ready to open our lives to another kind of family member...


I like to think back to the night before we brought Kramer home, Neil and I had lain in bed, and I got a bit sappy. I said, "This is the last time it will ever be just the two of us..." I remember the nostalgia...the worry that I'd maybe miss "these days"... I never would have imagined that I couldn't have been more wrong.

I like to remind myself of all of the above when I have moments of panic, thinking about the lil' boy inside of me. I'm eager to meet him, but to be honest, I'm petrified. I'm worried I'll miss "these days." But  if Kramer taught me anything, it was that love is love is love. And no matter what type of love unfolds in our house, we'll never want to look back.

Well, unless we want to look sweetly at photos that I, the obsessive, loving mother has taken. ;)

So on that note...here is a brief slideshow of some pics of Kramer in the past 2 years. His "gotcha" anniversary date is only a month away... but it's always the right time to remind myself of how I feel about him TODAY.