Goodbye, Grandpa.

I’m flying later today to Texas for my grandfather’s funeral.  Grandpa died on Thursday, at age 95.  He was at home with my mom and uncle, and he passed very peacefully.  His death is sad, of course, but he was ready to go.  He’s always been a vital man, golfing until just a few years ago, ushering at his church until just a month or so ago.  As his body started to fail quickly these last few months, we knew he wouldn’t want to linger long.  So we’re relieved that he didn’t have to suffer.  But there is still sorrow – for me, it’s a sorrow that my last grandparent has died, and that grandpa won’t get to meet the Olive Shoot.

I’ve been reflecting on different memories that I have of grandpa.  I wrote once before about the incredible story of how he hid his Dutch village’s valuables from the invading German army.  In my personal memories, I think of the fabulous playset he helped my Dad to build at our home in Colorado.  Of the time when, after dinner, all the adults sat around the table talking, while I ran round and round the chairs, grandpa catching me as I dashed by his seat.  I recall how he and Aaron’s grandpa held hands as they walked down the aisle at our wedding.  And how he jokingly called Aaron “Moses” whenever he saw him.  He was a reticent old Dutchman, but he was a good man.  I loved him, and I’ll miss him.

Earlier this summer, he travelled with my parents here to the Midwest.  He was staying with family in another state during the short visit, so I only got to see him briefly at the highway oasis before they went to the airport.  I had a feeling that it might be the last time I saw him, so I made sure to get a picture with him.

Goodbye, grandpa.

11* Pounds

4 weeks

8 weeks

12 weeks

They all kind of look the same to me.  (And no, it wasn’t intentional that I wore the same skirt in the first two pictures.)  But apparently, at twelve weeks, I weigh 11 pounds more than I did before pregnancy.  My regular clothes do still fit, barely.

*That is, if we assume I was at the higher end of my pre-pregnancy weight to start; if I was at the lower end (which is the number I foolishly gave the nurse at my first appointment), it’s – gulp** – 16 pounds.

**That said, while I’d prefer not to gain more than the recommended 25-35 pounds during pregnancy, I’ve never been one to fuss too much over the numbers on a scale.  I don’t even own a scale.

In Which I Recognize that, Huh, Getting Pregnant Is Merely the Beginning

At my 12-week OB appointment today, I got to hear the Olive Shoot’s heartbeat again, thumping away in the 160s.  What a lovely sound, that rapid “whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.”  I met briefly with the doctor, but we didn’t chat too long, because I didn’t really have any questions.  The doctor seemed surprised and kept saying, “Really? No questions?  Come on, you’ve got to have something!”  What sorts of questions should I be asking?  I’m just so delighted to have the Olive Shoot, and so far at my appointments I can’t think of much beyond, “Thank you, Lord! The baby’s doing well!”

As I’m nearly done with the first trimester, it occurs to me that I ought to start planning to actually have a baby.  Obvious, I know.  But for the past four years, I’ve actively avoided daydreams about pregnancy, nurseries and newborns, because those thoughts brought on too deep an ache.  It’s hard to break those habits.  It’s strange to realize that now I should think about those matters and start to prepare.  We’ll need a nursery, a birthing plan, and a lot of other things that probably haven’t dawned on me yet.  How bewildering, and how blessedly wonderful!

11 Weeks + Apple-Picking

So.  I’m still here.  So is the Olive Shoot!  I’ve been rather fatigued, but I’ve started to regain some energy.  I don’t feel too queasy anymore, although I did lose my mid-morning snack yesterday.  Indigestion and heartburn seem to have taken up permanent residence.  My next OB appointment is Nov. 2, which seems ages away when I had gotten used to daily or weekly appointments with the RE.  I’m 11 weeks along; hard to believe the first trimester is nearly over!

Since I’m feeling rusty with this whole blogging thing (where to the words go? how do I transition between paragraphs?), I’ll take the easy way out for the rest of this post and entertain you with a few pictures.  Last weekend, we went to a local orchard with friends from our church to pick apples and enjoy yummy apple cider doughnuts.

Of OB Appointments and Nicknames

Our first OB appointment yesterday left us giddy and awed.  After going over our medical history, running through the long list of prescriptions I currently take, and asking a few questions, our OB offered to do an ultrasound.  Yes, please!  Aaron and I were amazed.  Our previous two ultrasounds were neat, but almost in more of a theoretic way.  We knew we were looking at our baby, but we couldn’t really see much.  For this one, though, the OB could show us the head, the developing brain, a tiny arm and a tiny leg, the umbilical cord, and a visibly pulsing heart (which we also got to hear again).  It all thrilled us; we smiled and smiled, and Aaron laughed incredulously.  The hematoma is much smaller now, too – a long thin line, instead of a blob bigger than the baby.  Our baby is 2 cm now, four times bigger at 8w3d than the 5mm of 6w6d!  According to my OB, I’m a “normal” patient now, a relief after such a complicated beginning.

So now, without further ado, allow me to introduce you to the Olive Shoot!

Why the Olive Shoot?  It comes from Psalm 128, which refers to children as olive shoots.  I think it will be a fun nickname to use on the blog while the baby is in the womb.  Aaron is lobbying hard for a different nickname, though.  He calls the baby Aloysius, a holdover from when he gave our A, B, and C graded embryos nicknames for each letter.  He’s pretty sure Aloysius is the one that stuck.  But I’d rather the name Aloysius not stick!  So here on the blog, Olive Shoot it is.  Hi, baby Olive Shoot!

Random Items, Introduced by Prepositions

As of today, I’m done with bedrest; yippee!

On Monday, I see my OB for the first time as a pregnant patient.  I’m hoping for an ultrasound to see the baby and to find out if the subchorionic hematoma has diminished any more.

During this past week, I started to experience mild “morning” sickness (stronger in the afternoons and evenings for me) and indigestion.  I really only want to eat bread and salads.  Meats and any dishes with lots of ingredients (like chunky soups) induce a gag reflex.

In a strange reversal, I have stolen the covers from Aaron (a chronic cover thief) for the past few nights.  This morning I told him it’s because I’m sleeping for two now.

Happy Day

Happy birthday to my wonderful, charming, funny, thoughtful, sweet, humble husband!  I couldn’t adore anyone on this earth more.

mmm, cake

celebrating with friends and family last weekend

Heart. Beat.

We heard the baby’s heartbeat today!  Aaron and I couldn’t really see much on the ultrasound screen, but we have a 5mm baby with a heart beating at 132bpm.

The subchorionic hematoma is still there, but it seems to have shrunk a little bit.  The doctor advised me to continue bedrest for a week, although he did lighten my restrictions a degree or two.

I’ve now officially graduated from the RE.  My next appointment will be with my regular OB on Oct. 5.  That feels a bit weird, after so many years.

But this is really happening!  I’m 6 weeks and 6 days along, and our baby is due May 14, 2010.

Gnocchi with Zucchini and Tomatoes

In honor of the tomatoes probably rotting in my garden while I recline on the couch, and to distract us all while we wait for Thursday afternoon’s ultrasound, here’s a recipe we enjoyed several times this summer.  It’s fresh, tasty, and quick!

(Please ignore all the sauce splatters on my bowl in the picture.)

Gnocchi with Zucchini and Tomatoes

• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 2 zucchini (about 1 lb each), quartered and sliced
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 pint grape tomatoes, halved
• 1 package (15-16 oz) gnocchi (look in either the freezer section or with the dried pasta)
• 1/4 cup fresh basil, chopped
• 2 tbsp Parmesan cheese
• 1 tbsp butter
• 2 tsp fresh lemon juice

In a large skillet, heat oil over medium high.  Add zucchini and garlic; season with salt and pepper.  Cook, stirring occasionally, for 4-5 minutes.  Add tomatoes and cook, stirring occasionally, about 2 minutes.  Meanwhile, cook gnocchi according to package directions.  Reserve 1/2 cup of the cooking liquid, drain gnocchi and transfer to skillet.  Toss gnocchi with vegetable mixture, adding enough cooking liquid to create a sauce.  Remove from heat and stir in basil, Parmesan, butter, and lemon juice.

(adapted from Everyday Food)

And while we’re on the topic of our garden tomatoes, here’s a picture of some of the first ones we harvested, some deliciously sweet orange cherry tomatoes given to us as seedlings by a local retired farmer.  Hopefully, we’ll still have a few of these ready for picking when I’m done with bedrest!

Fearless

No bleeding since Thursday; bed-rest seems to do the trick.

When people ask how my heart is doing, how I’m dealing with this scary situation, I can say – surprisingly, honestly – that I haven’t felt afraid of losing the baby.  In these circumstances, I should be worried and fearful; but by God’s grace, I’m not presently experiencing fear at all.  Several scriptures have helped me:

Great peace have those who love your law; nothing can make them stumble (Psalm 119:165).

God’s law is his word, and his word is the primary means of knowing him.  Knowing him gives great peace.  Knowing him means that nothing – infertility, miscarriage, a complicated pregnancy – can make me stumble, ultimately.  That doesn’t mean those trials aren’t hard or don’t affect me, but it does mean that they can never cause me to topple off the rock of my salvation.

My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.  He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber.  The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life.  The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore (Psalm 121:2-3, 7-8).

When I woke up on Friday morning, I started to fret that I might have unknowingly moved some way in my sleep that could have exacerbated the hematoma or harmed the baby.  Providentially, I read Psalm 121 among a number of other passages in my daily reading.  How comforting to know that the Lord is eternally, perfectly vigilant!  The One who made the whole universe watches over me and preserves me.

Lastly, a friend reminded me of a verse that has encouraged me so much in the past.  I had shared it with her, and she in turn shared it with me.  Speaking about Sarah and the holy beauty she gained by hoping in God and following her husband Abraham, 1 Peter 3:6 says to women:

And you are her children, if you do good and do not fear anything that is frightening.

Yes, a subchorionic hematoma is a frightening thing.  But I do not need to fear it, because I have a good and great Savior.