DisGuysed and Dolls

As if things couldn't get even scarier what with Halloween and certain election results, this morning I'm sitting in the living room across from Chelsea when I hear this loud shriek explode from her mouth, "Oh My Gosh! When did my arm hairs grow so long? They're black and I look like Big Foot!"

What?!

I think it's time for little Sawyer to consider more seriously about making his entrance into this world. Chelsea's brain is fried. We saw her perinatologist on Tuesday who told her to stay on the meds and bedrest for 2 more weeks and then she can go dancing. We saw her regular OBGYN on Friday who said get off the meds and start back into her regular life, whatever that is. With conflicting medical direction what would you do? We really don't want little Sawyer to have to go to the NICU no matter how brief. Yet she also knows she needs to start building up her muscles again by sitting up for longer than 30 minutes or so. She's decided to compromise somewhere in between, meaning she can drive with me thru Starbucks or McDonald's or sit at the beach for an hour while I go for my walk but she can't load the dishes in the dishwasher. I think that's how it's playing out. No, seriously, I'm happy she's actually able to start getting around again. She's been a real trooper through this whole thing. I can't imagine what it would have been like to be on strict bedrest for the past 14 weeks. Wait, yes I can, I've been here. And with 2 stays in the hospital behind her, we're both very happy the time is drawing nigh.

She sent a photo of herself to some of her friends because they'd been asking her how she looks. Unfortunately she didn't get back the response she was hoping for. They all told her she looked huge. I think she looks great


34 weeks 3 days and counting

Because the one doc gave her the A-OK to get up and go she signed up for a breast-feeding class tomorrow at the hospital. They told her to bring a baby doll or stuffed animal with her, but if it's a stuffed animal it can't have a tail. Huh? The only doll around here is one I brought with me to sell on Ebay, Brittany's original Cabbage Patch doll which she "adopted" from the Cabbage Patch Hospital when we lived in Georgia. I tried to sell it at my garage sale for $5, but a very honest woman told me they're selling for over $100 on the internet so I took it out of the garage and brought it down on the truck. However, it's at least 24" long and looks 2 years old. As much as the La Leche League might think it's appropriate, Chelsea doesn't. We have a sock monkey that used to be Eli's, but it has a tail. We have a little teddy bear my sister, Marlene, gave Chelsea, but it's too small. Just preparing for this 2-hour class is giving me a headache thinking about it.

Chelsea is in her bedroom right now reading a book she ordered about breast-feeding. And I'm in my room writing this and thinking about dolls I've known and loved. Cheryl and I got matching dolls when I was 4. Mom painted our initials with red fingernail polish on the dollies' bottoms so we could tell them apart. When I was 8 I got my favorite baby doll I named Bonnie Kay. She's boxed up and in storage. I dearly loved my Little Red Riding Hood doll from Germany but she's gone AWOL. I received my first and only Barbie for Christmas, 1961. And then, of course, in 1974, 1976, and 1980 I got my 3 real live dolls. And 2004, 2006, and soon in 2008 has brought 3 more real live baby dolls into my life.

On the off-chance Marlene ever does decide to read my blog I'm including this video for her and anyone else whose wish came true when she found the doll of her dreams under the Christmas tree.