One Year Later...

Ahhh...the infamous yearly Vegas trip. Two years ago it was booked and I was ready to go only to find out I was pregnant 1.5 weeks before! Last year, I went sleep deprived and just weaned from breast feeding to find a bit of solitude and sanity....which lead me to a 3:26 PR.This year, I did not think I would be able to pull it off with all the travels, racing and work that had accumulated. But, low and behold, I had a project come up that would coincide perfectly with the Rock n Roll Las Vegas marathon. So I signed up...I mean, who wouldn’t want to run the strip at night??

I have had a wonderful year....well, let me rephrase that, an “Unbelievable” year of racing, travelling and accomplishment following having Emma. I have done more in a year after having a baby than I have ever done, single, married, or young and stupid. It blows my mind, but builds so much confidence!

A lot of people attribute the “post-baby athletic success” to something physiological like larger blood flow and oxygen delivery etc... I care to disagree. I attribute it to learning how to be tough as nails. Firstly, you deliver a baby, which is harder than anything...EVER! Then you take care of it, which is harder than anything...EVER x 100! You learn that 3 hours of sleep will do, and you learn how to multitask and you learn to LOVE your spouse more than anything because they take care of the baby so you can have some time to run and shower!

Before I even begin describing my Vegas experience, NONE of it would have been possible without my wonderful husband who has been there since day one. Feeding Emma a bottle while I pumped milk...taking night shift turns and making sure I got out of the house and...at the end of this year, doing water support and motivational support for my last long run leading up to Vegas while the wind was howling and we would have rather been in bed!

It takes a family unit to do what I did this year, so as I write this race report, I want you to keep in mind that this is not about me, it is about a fortunate woman who has an amazing husband and absolutely adorable, good natured and way too overactive baby who support me.

Ok, on to the race. Firstly, Vegas was more of a business trip and the first 2 days were spent working the expo as i am a part of the Brooks ID program. So, I volunteered Friday and Saturday for Brooks. WOW! The number of people at the expo was incomprehensible. I did not realize that we were dealing with a +40,000 field until I got to the expo and then to experience that number of people was crazy! Needless to say I was a bit worn out from the expo at the end of the day.

I have run Chicago a few times which has over a 40,000 and I knew what a race like that has to look like that for a smooth execution and I already anticipated some of the issues that would come up on Sunday when the race was run at night. Firstly, you had to get to the race start EARLY! and secondly, something I could not control but could brace myself for is the merging of the marathon onto the half marathon course.

To summarise the marathon course, it pretty much starts at Mandalay Bay and zig-zags around a western industrial neighborhood for 13 miles before feeding you back onto the Las Vegas strip for the last half of the marathon. The marathon starts at 4 and the half starts at 5:30...I braced myself for utter chaos merging onto a massive crowd of runners....but, rather than worry about what I could not control, I did what I could and got to the race 2 hours early.

Arriving at the race, it was pretty calm. The marathon field was only a small fraction of the half marathon field. I mean, only the crazies want to run an extra 13 miles off the strip, right???:) So I hung out, got my tunes on and then found bag check which was a good 10 minute walk from the race start through the hotel (note: Vegas hotels are like mini-cities). I decided upon shorts and a long sleeve as we would be running when the sun went down and temperatures were going to be around 34 ish...cold! The wind was picking up and I was dreading waiting in my corral, but at 3:40 I made my way into the box and put on a pair of sweatpants that were abandoned on the side of the corral gates...yes, I am white trash to the core, I don’t mind wearing other peoples clothes that have been left behind.

It was time to eat my last gel and wait for the start. There was a nervous energy but absolute excitement as the area had filled with the ½ marathoners waiting to start and the air was buzzing with anticipation.The start was anti-climatic. A little gun went off and we were off.....

A little more background information. It has been years since I have ran a stand-alone marathon fit and not injured. My PR was actually the year before 4 months after having a baby, so I had a bunch of uncharted territory to navigate as I was actually fit and ready to run this marathon. I had asked a trusted source before heading out what pace I should go for and the agreed upon answer was “GO FOR IT”...and attempt the more aggressive pace. That pace was 3:10.

I started with the 3:10 group.Immediately I got into a groove and was feeling strong, nothing outside of my comfort zone. I pretty much hop scotched with the 3:10 group as I don’t like my pace to be dictated by a pacer, but how I feel. I usually can dial in my pace to the tee within 2 miles and I try to stick with it. 3 women around me we jockeying for positions and putting on surges, but I held back. In my opinion, the key to a successful marathon is to refrain oneself from pushing the first half marathon. The real test is the last half ...so I let the ladies go and kept groovin to “Move’s Like Jagger!” (thank you Diana!)

I wish I had some exciting details to tell you about the first 5 miles, but it was pretty mundane. It actually felt like a nice training run and the oxygen at sea level was heaven! If anything I get the “boredom” lows during the first half of a marathon because I know you have to keep it easy and control, yet you want to go! yet...having so many blow up experiences I knew better.

The exciting part was watching the sun set and running into darkness. It was kind of surreal and I was so looking forward to that experience of merging onto the strip with 40,000 other runners.The first quarter of the marathon includes some overpasses and lots of gradual incline. I was happy to get it over with and knowing my strength on the uphills I was able to keep with my group while staying comfortable.

At mile 9 you turn and head East back to the strip which is a gradual downhill and I decided to take advantage of it. I knew i wanted to bank some time if I was to stay with the 3:10 group through the second half. Once again, I apologise for this absolutely boring race report thus far, because that is what is was for me for the first half of the marathon...in control, comfortable and just...running.

I started getting really excited around mile 11. I has just taken my first gel and my stomach was feeling ok. With the race being at night and not having nailed any nutritional regime etc....I knew stomach upset would most likely be an issue. Hence, I did take an immodium before the race. So far, so good. I had the 2 overpasses to cover and then it was time to start the party.....

THE SECOND HALF

This is where the fun begins. I was having an absolute fantastic time , hitting my time goals and feeling comfortable. Half a mile out from the strip I turned my IPOD off and you could hear it. The crowds were amazing. It was if it were a bunch of bees buzzing....and it just intensified the closer you got the the strip.

Finally I hit 13 miles and then started the turn. The crowds were roaring!! I mean roaring!! it felt like the road was shaking as I merged. There were so many spectators I didn’t even see the ½ marathoners until I got around the curve and the pedestrian barricades had absolved into no where and I was in a see of dressed up, costume, and crazy runners!! All of a sudden there was a biker right beside me and I was like “ is this how they are separating the fields” and then I saw a few neon pylons marking “marathon left” and “half marathon right”....It was not working. Anyhow, the biker stayed with me for about a quarter mile until he/she could not get through the crowds anymore. What I learned in hind site is that was my first “pace biker” as I was in the top ten....I had NO idea!

So, I kept running. To be honest, the merge onto the course was great but then it became a royal pain in the butt to navigate through the crowds, but I did not let it deter me. I just kept trying to be consistent which meant running on curbs, nicely tapping those on the shoulder in front of me and asking them to move over. There were some irate marathoners who were screaming nasty things, but I really had not patience for that. We were fortunate to have this experience and the health to do it...does a minute or two on a marathon really mean that much!! A marathoner actually started yelling at me because he thought I was a half marathoner and when he realized I was not he apologised and was complaining about how the half marathoners were “wrecking his race” I felt sorry for him...it is just a run and when the crowds thinned out, you had the opportunity to see the lights and experience something for the first time (the first time this race has been held at night!).

Mile 13-17 was all about making sure that I did not run into anyone or trip/fall. It went by very quickly…but I knew I was fading at mile 16 so I took my last gel, knowing it would be not enough to finish. I know myself well enough to know that when my demeanor gets cranky it is time to eat, and I was getting cranky. The dilemma was if I have my gel now, what do I do for the next 10 miles??? But, I couldn’t worry about it; I needed sugar and energy at that moment, so I took it. I was running in the moment and loving it!

…until mile 18-19…my stomach turned. The Imodium had worn off and I needed a bathroom ASAP!! I could not believe the race of my life was going to be derailed for a potty-break!! I knew an aid station was ahead so I did the best I could to get ready. Got the Imodium out of my pocket (I ALWAYS carry it as I have the worst poop problems while racing long distance) grabbed two cups of water and darted into the nearest porta potty to do my business while chugging water and taking the magic pill. I knew I lost a few minutes, but I had to do “damage control” if I was to finish strong. I left the toilet and ran like a bat outta hell as I wanted so much to make up some time I had lost…

Then my stomach turned again and this almost derailed my whole race. I actually saw things falling apart. “What happens if I have to stop at every toilet?”…”How much more time am I going to lose?” …”What if my stomach does not settle?”…and most importantly, “Where am I going to go poop now??”!!Well, we were on the North side of the strip in a shady neighborhood and I brought out my white-trash side of me and pulled behind a bush in a parking lot……yes, I did that! Sshhhhh…don’t tell anyone:)

I was dreading having a horrible 6 miles back to the finish, but I kept focused and after I had done my business I took off in a hurry trying to make up time without pushing the envelope too much that I would not make it to the finish strong. We made a few twists and turns/corners and running around the block and my stomach was doing fine…and then…mile 20!!!

I think of mile 20 as the golden point of a marathon. This is just my personal opinion, but this is where you really find out what you are made of…mentally that is. Physically, everyone has trained the same and should be fit enough to complete the marathon, but it is what everyone does when they encounter that uncharted territory that matters the most when wanting to finish strong. So, it was “GO” time for me. I had braced and prepared myself for this. A lot of people fear that moment when the going gets tough, but I thrive off of it. It is sadistic, I know. But, I need to know for myself, as if a metaphor for life, that I have “what it takes.” When things get tough, I push harder…and this is how it turned out for me:

Mile 20-21: So pissed from the bathroom breaks I didn’t even focus on the distance, I just hammered away. I broke it down to a 10 km race for me, keep it steady and controlled …but push the envelope. The key in a marathon you WILL slow down the last 6 miles and the way to avoid it is to push harder; the effort will offset the inevitable slow down. So, I pushed. I was not getting faster, but I was not getting slower…I was staying consistent and entering a whole other world of hurt…

Mile 21-22: GU station!! Thankfully I was not bonking but I was not hungry and wanted nothing. The solution? Take 2 gels!! If you throw up or burp up some, you still have enough to finish. Knowing that my whole GI system was F*cked up I was taking chances; it was time to walk out of the comfort zone and gamble in Vegas! I did not want water, so I just took enough to get that God awful stuff down my throat. I could see the Stratosphere and focused on that. I was also in a complete haze….stomach was turning and I was determined not to stop. I kept focused on the time and staying consistent in my turnover. It was boring…..no soul searching here…just pretty lights. The course had thinned out and I was running comfortably without congestion on the course.

Mile 22-23: This is where we get into the nitty gritty. It felt like knives were digging into my lungs and I had anticipated this. 2.5 weeks before I developed pleurisy from an infection. My doctor and I had discussed it and the way to treat it was anti-inflammatory. I am really against anti-infamms because they cause stomach upset and also because I feel that pain is a natural indicator as to what you should or should not be doing. So we agreed that pain would be my limiter as this condition will resolve itself over time. So, I did what I prepared myself to do…I told myself “hang on…and take it…suck it up buttercup…this will be over before you know it”… in hindsight, I think this is something you learn during child birth. Pain that will not go away till it is over and you can’t stop it, so you deal with it. I did have an epidural (Thank God!) but I did experience enough of labor to know that a marathon is nothing compared to it.

Mile 23-24: Mile 23 was the turning point. This is where I took out my “bag of tricks.” Maybe it is experience or just the emotional side of me, but I know when things get tough, I need to remember why it is what I am doing and have some things to focus on. I asked my runners before this marathon to send me some songs and anecdotes that would get me through this tough time….I also have my own “dig deep” strategy, and all of that combined got me through the final 3 miles…I thought of a lady that just lost a battle with cancer; the one my runner emailed me about and I could not even begin to imagine experiencing such pain and ignored my own. It was temporary. Knees up, such it up buttercup… I was at mile 24….and I finally began to enjoy the lights on the stip…

Mile 24-25 Pardon my French, but “Game on B*tches!!” … I looked at my watch and saw Mandalay Bay. It was if I snapped out of a haze and came to my senses. “Down with the Sickness” roared in my Shuffle and I was nearing the end. I think it was a combination of endorphins, nearing the end and actually taking in the journey that got me on this high. I knew I was in for an amazing run for me…but how much?? I mean, how much could I push?? A lot of people do not realize that the finish time is not that important to me as making sure I never look back and say I could do more….So, I pushed, I pushed and I pushed. I got that heart rate up and with the fatigue I was pushing that envelope. I wanted it….I wanted to know that I was going to finish without ever succumbing to any mental demons and I was making the most of everything that was in my control…. And I saw mile 25… and it burned…

Mile 25-26 this is where my mind out did my body and it is the most surreal experience ever. My mind was ready but my body was not. I have had this experience before, actually in many Ironman’s , where the heart rate soars so high with the effort you want to supply so that if you want to finish you have to keep it in control and dial back or stop pushing. Thankfully, I have had enough experience to recognize this, and with the lungs and spent body, I hung on for dear life and kept up what I could. In hindsight, you could say I hit the wall at mile 25…..But, then an amazing thing happened….they separated the course. Marathoners took the left lane on the strip and marathoners to the right. I could hear the finish and see the parking lot…so close…And…I was alone…absolutely alone. There was a man 200 meters ahead of me on the road and then just me. Then I looked to my right and saw swarms of people on the half marathon course finishing. This is the first time I actually realized that I had done really well. I was running on a full street by myself.. And then I turned the corner into the Mandalay parking lot where I had. 2 miles to go

26 to 26.2- I could write a novel about what I felt during those last .2 miles, none of which have to do with the fatigue. It is a journey and some things need to be left personal. But, what I will tell you is that those last .2 miles I knew I had finally NAILED a marathon. I had executed what I wanted to do. Not a moment of weakness was allowed to creep into my head and when it did, and when things were out of my control, I took care of it and kept going….

This has been an amazing experience and it is something I have not done by myself. My family, athletes and friends have been such a support to me and I learned and leaned on each one of them, whether they know it or not.I would love to tell you about the aftermath, but that is a story in itself….

Let’s just say that after a 2.5 mile hike back to the hotel and a bag of potato chips on the way, I stopped into Margaretville where I got a “Boat Sized” Pina Colada in which the bartender did not measure by standard (many other patrons at the bar where cheering him on as he was pouring the white-trash marathon runner a drink!) and I am sure there was WAY too much Rum for me to handle on a normal night. Needless to say, I took it up to the hotel room, had a shower and sat like a pig-in-Sh*t drinking it and savoring the accomplishment.

This one is in the books!!

Adventures in Vegas

Wow…3 weeks turns into 4 months!! How time flies. Truth be told I know I have been absent from blogging and every day I can think of things to blog about but then I realize that there is not 30 hours in the day. Since I have the time now I thought I would catch everyone up.

How did I magically make the time? Well, I went to Vegas! Yes, that is right; I am in Sin City BY MYSELF!! Probably one of the hardest things I have done to be away from my daughter and awesome husband…but, I needed it. Last year I was signed up for the Vegas marathon and then I found out we had a little Emma on the way less than 2 weeks before; that kind of put things to a halt.

Fast forward to 2010…I was not sure how I would recover from the pregnancy/childbirth/being a mommy thing, so I kept the idea of the Vegas marathon in the back of my head. When I was able to complete the Denver ½ marathon in October feeling really good about it, I figured why not go for the full?? So, Vegas trip #2 was booked and trust me there was no way another pregnancy would get in the way, LOL!

So that is why I am in Vegas. I had an awesome race, but back to that in a bit. I want to talk about Emma first and how being a “mother” has changed me

Emma is a riot. She is a piece of art. A total blend of Gregory’s and my personality. She is curious like Gregory always wanting to look at things, touch them and learn. She is impatient and hungry like me (Emma is a piggy like me). Most obvious though is how she likes to fight sleeping (my trait). She is a great sleeper at night…we can get a good 10 hours out of her (knock on wood not to jinx ourselves) but Lord help you if you are taking care of her during the day. NO naps…really! Only 20 minutes at most; and when she falls asleep during the day she fights it and throws a fit before finally succumbing. The evenings are epic; we have kicking, screaming, growling and eventually she settles into her deep sleep for the night. Don’t get me wrong, I love this and would prefer it over a baby up every 2 hours at night (been there, done that!)But it can be exhausting. Emma also likes attention. During the day it is at struggle to even use the bathroom with her because she is so curious and does NOT like being left without a parent in sight. We love it! It really is fun, hilarious and rewarding to know someone needs you/your attention that much and the rewards are exponential.

Ok, so back to me and how being a mom has changed me. Since this would turn into a novel if I actually wrote it out, I will try point-form:

Patience: I have a lot more of it. You learn your schedule revolves around someone else and their schedule, yet it is the most rewarding thing ever!

Self-Acceptance: All at once the things you thought were important don’t seem as important anymore after having a child. There is no time to worry about what others think of you, try to impress or be someone you are not. Being a mom supplies a sense of self-confidence I cannot describe, but I know I have grown more confident as a person.

Physical: Believe it or not, I don’t care how much I weigh post-pregnancy or how I look (other than those handful of insecure days…we all have them). I just “made” a baby and that is amazing; why the heck should I be worried about my weight? I used to worry about this but not anymore. I think we all get too obsessed on a scale number to take 10 steps back and re-evaluate the whole picture. Yes, I do know I have lost a bunch of the baby weight and I have good genes and I am running a marathon 4 months post-Emma makes me sound like a hypocrite, but this is my experience. I am sure that even if I was ### lbs heavier and struggling I would still try to walk the marathon because I love the event. It’s about the challenge and satisfaction you get from completing such an event.

I now have hips and my body has changed a ton!! I don’t have saggy boobs because I never had boobs to begin with, so I guess I should be thankful! All of these changes I have embraced. I can relate it to the”battle scars” of mommyhood. I don’t want to get far into this subject because it seems very shallow to me and there are more important things to write/think about.

Time-Management: There is never enough time..PERIOD. I have learned to make the most of my time. I thought I was resourceful and organized before; well let me tell you, having a kid makes you realize how inefficient you were before. I will leave it at that.

Emotional: I have learned to love in a whole new way. I cannot describe the amount of love I feel for my husband and daughter at this time. We are a growing family, yet one unit. It is so satisfying.

Social: You really have to work at this aspect of life. If not, you can become a hermit. I try my best to keep in contact with my friends and make sure that I get “out” in order to sustain some normalcy.

This list could go on and on…but I eventually need to wrap this blog entry up so I am going to close with a mini race-report.

Here it goes:

I ran with Elvis….and it was fun!! First 13 miles of the race were up and down the strip and they flew by and it was so much fun!! At mile 11 I had some tummy problems and made a few stops. With a little care and attention to what was going on (aka immodium!) I was back on track by mile 14 and kept plugging away at a constant pace. By mile 18 the legs let me know they were tired and I told them to shut-up. Believe it or not, as I felt my legs turn to lead I kept looking at my garmin and the pace remained consistent…although effort increased exponentially. At mile 25 I knew I had a PR in the bag despite my previous stops earlier and told myself to “suck it up princess”….which really seemed so lame and shallow compared to everything that has happened in my life thus far this year, but I kept pushing until the finish…and then I finished…5 minute PR…game over, time to party!!

There you have it, race report galore. As you may notice, racing and race-reporting is not much of a priority right now, but more of a privilege. Half of this post should be dedicated to my wonderful husband who supports me 200% which enables me to do these crazy things that I love.

Tomorrow I am home and I could not be happier!! I cannot wait to see my amazing family.
I am probably one of the very few who will hit the pit before the bars open in Vegas because I want to be well rested to see my family tomorrow. But, that is how it goes..and I am content. I will however admit to having a “Vegas Slurpee” which was extremely yummy and well worth it!

Cheers and Happy Holidays!

3 weeks!

My daughter is precious. I am sure every mom can say this about their child…But, I like to think that Emma is the exception.

She is exceptional at eating, pooping and making those great grunting noises. She even dances to AC/DC; or at least that is what her father tells me. I am sure she is always smiling at me when I hold her (it has nothing to do with the giant crap she is taking). Emma is wonderful!
Life as a parent does not get much better than this. And I mean it! Days are filled with eat, burp, poo…and sometimes sleep (our daughter gets her sleeping habits from her father) and I love every minute of it. The thing that amazes me is how quickly our little monster is growing. It is amazing to see the little changes every day. There are outfits she has outgrown even before wearing them!

Now, I could go on and on about how perfect Emma is, but then it would get boring. I am going to talk a bit about me, the post-partums and life moving forward after a munchkin enters your world.

First, the post-partums…in my opinion it is just a hormonal flux mixed in with sleep deprivation, feeling overwhelmed and life as you know it will never be the same (which it won’t, but it won’t always be waking up every hour to feed your baby). AND, although this may be graphic, what woman would not struggle with a new baby, on a handful of hours of sleep a night whose boobs are ready to explode every 3 hours and needs to keep in mind that it is not only a new baby to take care of, but herself (umm, there is a bit of physical maintenance that needs to be done after you squeezed a watermelon out of you and that might have involved stitches etc…let alone the trauma of a c-section for others) This all hit me last week; you would think going from a jaundiced baby (Emma had to go back to the hospital after 4 days to sun-tan because she was badly jaundiced..but is FINE now) who had to eat every hour to a healthy one who eats every 2-3 hours would be refreshing and a positive change for the mentality. Well, that extra time was enough to remind me what lies outside in the real world and what my life has been like for the past 2 weeks. I had a few mini-breakdowns, had Gregory have to wake me up for feeds because I was dead to the world asleep, but it was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be in terms of the post-partum stories people tell you. So, there you have it, that is my sob-story, I am over it, I feel better…. I am not going to dwell, because honestly, I think I have filled my time with some positive events I would prefer to write about.

First and foremost, I went for dinner with my husband. Last Wednesday was our anniversary and we headed out for some good eats and time away from “baby.” Thank goodness for Claude and Joelle who have allowed Gregory and I a LOT of freedom these past few weeks and are AWESOME babysitters. This marked the first time G and I were away from Emma for our “couple time”. All I can say is “FREEDOM”..we had a long dinner, went for a walk..I had to walk off the “drink” I had with dinnerJ (one word pump-n-dump) and we actually had time to experience life outside of a child. It was heaven…but let me tell you, the mother-child separation anxiety is a killer. Once a mom, you will always NEED your child.

Second, “Ladies Night”!! Friday I went out with a bunch of my girlfriends. Gregory, Claude and Joelle had a mini party of their own with Emma. I had such a refreshing time catching up with my girlfriends and feeling not so “mom-like”….what happens, or is consumed on ladies night will remain under strict confidentiality (actually, I was rather disappointed in myself!)…but, let’s just say I made it home to tuck my baby into bed. My friends are awesome! Throughout the past 10 months I have gone from the athlete/friend to “mom” and my friends have been there for me through thick and thin…I am one of the first to pop out a child so it is a change for the whole social-scene dynamic, but the ladies I hang out with make it work and make me feel awesome. Thanks ladies!

Finally, and I know most of you are wondering, “What about the workouts?” Well, I will be honest and say that I am not sitting on my butt and doing nothing. Today marks 3 weeks since Emma was born. That is 3 more weeks before I am allowed to swim…..darn, I am SO upset! Actually, I will just say it as it is and many can call me crazy and many will applaud me for keeping active etc…but, after 1.5 weeks I started back on the elliptical. I do 30 minutes with no resistance and do keigals at the same time. Yup, the most important thing to me is to keep my uterus intact and make sure I never pee myself. I do my abdominal exercises every day and I make sure to do SOMETHING every day. Why would I torture myself like this being sleep deprived and only a few weeks out from giving birth??? Because it makes me feel better! T rust me, when you need toothpicks to pry open your eyes in the morning and a triple shot espresso won’t help either, getting the blood pumping does wonders! AND, I get a chance to watch the news on the TV down in the clubhouse. That is my morning time that Gregory so kindly lets/enforces I have. We have a great schedule worked out such that I get the morning shift of feeding while he sleeps and then he will take Emma so I can have some “me time.” Having a kid/marriage etc..is compromise and every day I am reminded what a wonderful, generous and understanding husband I have. However, I may have to put a stop to these rendezvous because when I come back, AC/DC is blasting and both husband and child are dancing around the apartment..hmmmm….
So, there you have it, a real blog entry!! There is more exciting stuff happening that you should stay tuned in for (AKA…I am getting my crap together and freeing up time to blog so this blog will become more interesting!)…

2 weeks!

Gosh! I know bad, bad blogger!! But, really! I have an excuse…..her name is Emma.

Truth be told, having a child is awesome! I am so happy and so fulfilled. But, writing about all the little things day in and day out that go on with a newborn are not so interesting for those reading…. I mean, how many times do you want to read about Emma’s feeding schedule, diaper changes and my lack of sleep? Probably not much…

So, I will give a rundown of some of the fun/interesting stuff.
First of all, Emma is a crazy active child…I don’t know who she gets that from?? She already rolls side to side, so that means no forgetting her on the changing table. She also cannot stop moving her legs, and keeping her swaddled is impossible. We time how long it takes her to squirm out of her blanket.

Emma is also a little piggy, and I mean that in the nicest possible way. She is the best kid and SO well behaved until she realizes she is hungry. Then watch out, she screams bloody murder as if she will waste away to nothing (which is not the case considering the double…almost triple chin developing on her). The good part is that it makes Gregory and my job easier: fussy baby? Feed her, angry baby? Feed her, lonely baby? Feed her, crying baby? Feed her. I don’t know if it is the right thing to do but it works!

The downside of the “feed her” solution is that it requires a “mom”…yes, Erin has not gotten much sleep and be careful, I could blow at any moment. I consider myself a huge pot of “stew”…a bunch of stuff cooking/boiling together that could yield the best tasting concoction ever or something that could turn sour…in other words, I am post-partum crazy…which is better than depressed.

For example, last night, I decided it would be a great idea to unleash on Gregory when we are in the middle of our feeding session because he had time to eat a “cookie” while prepping a bottle and I did not because I had to start with breast feeding (remember, we have a child who thinks she is going to die screaming her lungs off and will not stop until she gets fed..aka, mom!) and move onto pumping …what transpired was not pretty. Good news is I did not get the cookie so I continue to lose the pregnancy weight and Gregory did not kill me because he is the most patient, loving and supportive husband ever!! (Despite what he posts on Facebook)

Ummm, what else…. I swear, my pregnancy brain gets worse! I am becoming stupid…and I am not kidding. On the “real life” front outside of Emma, Gregory and I are busy working out a schedule. A work/real life/baby schedule and it is hard work! I am becoming adjusted to the fact that I will be a full-time “mommy” and that work/training will be of less priority for the while. But, because I have such a great hubby who understands what makes me happy, I do have some “morning” time to be allocated to what I want and I am SO grateful. More on those morning plans later….

Finally, one last funny thing that I wanted to share because Gregory thinks it is the funniest and sent out a mass email telling all his friends: the 2 things that stood out in his mind during my labor:

1. The nurse asked me if I wanted to see a Chaplain because it was standard procedure and my response: “Only if they can administer an epidural.” I was then the nurse’s best friend.

2. About 7 minutes into my 13 minute pushing ordeal..which, I thought was not bad at all because I had the epidural and I thought I was awesome at the time…I told Gregory in front of the doctor and nurses suited up and ready to deliver “I am going to kick you’re a$$ at Ironman next year!!” …after 2 weeks and 1 day of taking care of Emma and lack of sleep I think I am not so sure anymore….

Alright, time to put the mommy hat on! More later

Made It One Week!

It’s been one week since Emma Lee Menvielle entered this world…and what a crazy/fun/extrodinary week it has been!

At 6:31 August 2nd, our little monster arrived in style and much to my surprise, with ease. Less than 6 hours of labor and 13 minutes of pushing Emma Lee Menvielle was born weighing 7 lbs and 5 oz and measuring 20.5 inches in length. We knew that this baby would be long and she has strong runner legs and long swimmer arms!

This week has been beyond amazing on so many different levels. Gregory and I are of course a bit sleep deprived, but Emma is an angel. She only fusses when she is hungry…hmmm, I wonder who she gets that from????

There is so much more to write and I know in a few days (or weeks!) I will be posting more details and such, but for the time being I would like to congratulate Emma on surviving one week with Gregory and I!

Eviction Notice Served!

I didn’t know how to take it this morning when the doctor walked into the office, took a look at me and said “wow! You’re still pregnant!”…. Don’t get me wrong, I am by no means 42 weeks or long overdue (although it seems like it since it has been 6 weeks since things started going crazy with my body) but, because we have 4 doctors to rotate with and this one saw me 4 weeks ago in the ER and put me on bed rest, I think she was under the assumption I would pop early….little did she know we are dealing with MY child.

So, I will have you all know that the Ambien is working wonders! I can now sleep 3 hours at a time before contractions wake me up (can you sense the sarcasm..But at least it is better than last week when I had NO sarcasm). Contractions have “changed”…I don’t like to say “gotten stronger” or make any assumptions here, because heck, I have NO idea of what full blown labor is going to feel like, but things are different and Emma is REALLY launched in my crotch now. It is like walking with a basketball between the legs and the peanut gallery (aka Gregory) bursts into fits of laughter when I have to get up and walk. After 5 weeks of no weight gain, I just put on the mother-load…4 lbs in 6 days…and I swell up like a cheese poof! I am still peeing myself because they checked to see if my water had broke today...no such luck…sigh. Oh, and I have dilated a whopping 0%; this is real progress folks.

Despite my desperate begs to induce this Friday (1 day before 39 weeks); you will notice, gone are the sobs of last week “Am I a bad mom if I ask you to induce before 40 weeks!!??” and replaced with “I don’t care how, just get her out!” (I made a new best-friend nurse who said I was her favorite mom-to-be because I wanted to do it the “easy way”) the doctor kept a firm stand on Monday. Which, I can fully understand and respect; sanctions are in place for certain reasons. And really, why wouldn’t I want to spend another weekend bonding with my unborn squirming child, Ambien and gummi bears?...Plus, I do have a few things to take care of before Emma arrives, including stocking up on the olives (for the gin martini) and tonic water (for the gin and tonic) and a sushi menu (for the 20 rolls of sushi I will stuff my face with once Emma arrives!).

All kidding aside, some people have asked me if I am nervous/scared/excited and the answer is a little bit of everything. As for labor, since it will be a controlled induction….which, I like to joke about that they will pump me full of pitocin till I am contracting like crazy and I still WON’T dilate (Gregory jokes Emma has put up an electric fence around my uterus, a brick wall and has guard dogs because she is content on eating gummi bears and gelato, and is in a temperature regulated environment in the middle of one heck of a hot summer!) Anyhow, back to controlled induction; the minute it starts to hurt, I am going for the epidural. In my mind, they can load me up with as much pitocin as they want to get the process rolling as long as I have an epidural or some sort of narcotic; I am not picky. And, God forbid, if there are complications, they can get Emma out however they wish, just as long as she gets out healthy and safe. I know, I am a really high pain-in-the-butt patient…actually, I AM considering the last 6 weeks and that every doctor/nurse/staff knows who I am, but I blame it on Emma; she is high maintenance.

One thing I am going to say, and it is not to judge or be judged by anyone. But, I REFUSE to set expectations about birthing….if I have learned anything at all over the past 6 weeks, It is everyone is different. How you get to the end goal does not matter, the only thing that matters is that Gregory and I end up with a healthy, screaming (even cone-headed and squished face) Emma.

And that cone-headed, squished face comment comes from the latest pregnancy magazine that lists all the things your husband “may” want to say about your new child/childbirth process vs. what he should say. Somehow I don’t think that Gregory reads these magazines….he is the man who steals my “pregnancy pillow” in the middle of the night and jokes about my “barricaded cervix.”

So, here is how it is going to go down. On Sunday I get to go to the hospital to have a “balloon” put into my cervix by my favorite doctor: the cutest 4 foot lady with a booming, energetic voice; she is a maternity cheerleader! It’s like a party, balloons and all!! I know, TMI, but if my cervix is not dilated, they need to help it out. Then home to sleep and Monday morning I go in to be hooked up to the pitocin drip…and the epidural..Can’t forget that! Then Emma will be evicted whether she likes it or not. AND the doctor on call for the “delivery” is the one who dealt with me in the hospital 6 weeks ago with infections and all, so I am SURE she is just as excited to learn she won’t have to deal with me anymore. Overall, it is shaping up to be quite the day!

One more thing…people ask me what I look forward to the most not being pregnant. And as much as everyone bets it is that “drink” or roll of “sushi” it is actually being able to eat a “full” meal. The stomach is a muscle; I will TRAIN it back into shape! I also can’t wait to get in the pool (have not been in since the infections due to obvious reasons); yes, hell just froze over…I said I wanted to get in the water! I also want to get back on the bike…but, that is no surprise and Gregory and I have started looking at some frame. I am also not sure what it will be like not to have a squirming baby inside of me or feel a contraction every 10 minutes. That being said, I think there will be MANY other things to keep my attention.

So, there you have it…baby Menvielle WILL be here soon and the fun is about to begin. Starting with Friday…the French invasion begins! Oh Lord…if there is nothing cuter/exciting than a newborn it must be the soon-to-be grandparent(s). Oh, and for the record, I DID manage to remove my 2 month old toenail polish the other day…now I just need to find the flexibility and energy to re-paint them. My Auntie-In-Law is extremely concerned that my toenails look nice since they will probably be the first thing Emma sees when she comes out. If Emma is not here by Friday, I know what Cocole will be doing on Saturday!

So, I am sure everyone is tired of reading about “Baby Emma” and “Pregnancy”…next post will still be about “Baby Emma” hopefully with cute pictures and all!

The powerful combination of Green Gummi Bears and Ambien

I am hungover….really, I am. I’m on the juice, the Ambien juice that is. Doctors offered me morphine, but I am just not into that harder stuff. Woke up from a 4 hour induced sleep and am feeling really groovy…

And no, this is not just because I just delivered Emma….however, she will come on August 2nd, if not sooner. That is my induction date. I fall at 39 weeks on a Saturday so they will induce the following Monday. It will be a party. Everyone start preparing; I think we should have carrot cake, a sushi buffet and martini station set up in the hospital room.

So what exactly has been going on? Other than I have banished myself to crochet island? Well, I don’t want to bore you with details and it is relatively simple; my body is shot. Ever since I dealt with the hospital stay/infections and all the other life stresses handed to me (which, BTW IS LIFE…crap happens and we can only deal with it the best I can…guess my mind is stronger than my body) I have been dealing “false labor/contractions.” At first they were mild and taken care of with bed rest, then they got stronger and we ended up in the ER the other weekend and then they keep getting stronger but never enough to warrant an ER visit or claw my eyeballs out. I have not been able to sleep and most of what I eat comes back up (except for Candy and gelato..Emma has great taste!). So, when I went into the doctors today, took a look at me, my vitals, the contractions etc…they came to the conclusion that this woman should be institutionalized….just kidding! They did conclude that my body has been so “traumatized and run down” that my uterus contracts, just not in an efficient manner (I was ready to tell them if they want to see a traumatized and run down body, they should come see me after an Ironman…but I figured it smarter to keep my mouth shut). Now, for all of you ladies who have had babies, imagine “early labor” for weeks on end…it is a great workout!


My newest project: Baby Mittens! Next up: Booties and Hats...and there is a "major" project in the mix that needs to remain secret for now...plus it might give away exactly how much time I spend crocheting, LOL!


All kidding aside, the doctors must weigh the health of the mom and baby in these situations. Right now, Emma is super! Mom, not so super….they are worried that I don’t have the energy/reserves to deliver a baby, let alone take care of one. So, the doctor wanted to admit me to the hospital and put me into morphine induced sleep. I had to politely decline since that would mean missing the last stages of the TDF and I have seen the hospital room enough… Plus, Emma likes watching bike racing and I am getting some great ideas for my “birthing present”..Which, has been upgraded from my “as long as it fits bike frame” to “I deserve full carbon, Durace and a powermeter” because they said my cervix will “pop” and are now offering me morphine…really, having that glass of red wine right now does not sound so bad considering all the drugs they are offering.

So, for all of you wondering “what’s next”…well, Gregory is set on Emma arriving this weekend because it is a full moon. I am not sure what to think about this….

Until Emma arrives or the 2nd, I am on orders to keep myself “juiced up” and sleeping. So, my days will be awfully exciting….this does resemble my comment to Gregory earlier today “If I have not progressed at all, they will have to tranquilize me.” I think Gregory is taking some sick sort of satisfaction out of that…his last week of peace and quiet before he has 2 monsters in the house.

I am at 1.5 cm dilated and baby is dropped to -1 and I am 60% effaced. I know, this means everything!! I don’t even know why I keep telling people…

Emma likes to squirm a lot! She is tired of this pregnancy too…and she knows her bassinet is made and ready. Right now it is occupied by her stuffed toys so Gregory has stuff to “play” with in the middle of the night until his daughter arrives.

Oh, and I had the BEST gift arrive today!! I don’t know who it is from…but all I can say is it is greatly appreciated and EXACTLY what I needed to lift mine and Emma’s spirits (well, get us out of bed that is). A 2 lb bag of green gummi bears arrived in the mail…1 lb is gone…I still have “potentially” 10 days to indulge and I am going to make the most of it!

Alright, on a final note, I want to thank everyone for checking in on me and your kind comments/thoughts; it means the world to me! Emma is going to have a great group of friends to entertain! For now, I am putting myself on “stand bye” if I don’t answer the phone/email, I am most likely sleeping or in labor; let’s hope for the latter!

Once Emma arrives, I will make sure to have Gregory update this blog with a few pictures and such….

This is Chewy and Emma signing off!!....

The birth canal not taken...

Happy Bastille Day!!

It is the French Independence day and I had a little talk with Emma this morning. I told her that her dad would be very, very happy if she could arrive today. It would make remembering her birthday so much easier!!

Well, it has been another fun filled week and of course we could not miss our regular trip to the ER. Yes, you heard me correct, I was back in the hospital again. I am SO looking forward to spending a few days there in the nice rooms with schwag accommodations that I get a little bit “over-excited” or shall I say, my uterus gets a bit “over-excited.”

It is becoming more and more apparent that I am the “exception” when it comes to normal pregnancy. Last week on Wednesday I had my check-up with no progress in terms of dilation but still contractions. The doctor was not worried and just told me to call when they become a regular 5 minutes apart and stronger with backache.

So, Saturday, I noticed the contractions picking up. I actually thought “this is it”…then after 5 hours…they tapered off. Another false alarm....yet, that is pretty normal these days, so I was not the least concerned. I am convinced I will have the strongest abdominal muscles when this is all over!

Sunday we were scheduled to go watch our neighbor Tom and Super God Mamma race the Boulder Peak triathlon. Menvielles were to depart at 5:50 am to get to the race site.

I was in bed by 10 pm on Saturday and ready to get my “cheer” on the next morning. Emma was ready to get her cheer on at 11:45 pm. Yup, I woke up with the worst back ache ever and some pretty strong contractions with my daughter throwing fits because she was being “squished.” Images of those movie scenes where the woman taps her husband and says “it’s time” flashed through my head. But, Gregory was snoring and I figured I would see how things progressed…1 ½ hours later things were still going on, 5 minutes apart. I thought it might be time to wake the snoring oblivious husband, who proceeded to wake up and think it was time to go to a triathlon.

Me (tapping Gregory): “Time to wake up”

Gregory (groggy and scratching eyes):” Let’s get our cheer on!!”

Me: “Hon, its 1 am and I think I am in labor”

Gregory:”You mean it’s not time to go to the triathlon?”

Me:” No, I am having contractions!”

Gregory:” Are you ok? What do you think we should do?”

Then I started having flashbacks to the 6 am wake-up call about when I broke the news to Gregory that I was pregnant…sighed and decided to call the doctor.

Doctor said it was time to come in sooner than later since things should really start rolling soon.

Great!! Baby Emma is on the way. What do new “parents to be do in the middle of the night when they are told to come into the hospital within 15 minutes?” Well, if you are my husband, you shave and shower so you can look nice for the camera and daughter. If you are me, you shower and shave your legs because you don’t know when the next time you can do that will be. Imagine shaving legs with contractions at 1:30 am…enough said.

2 am we are at the hospital and I am hooked up to the monitors. My contractions are exactly 5 minutes apart and 50-60% in intensity. The fun thing with the labor and delivery ward is that there are computer screens where you can watch everyone else’s contractions. The lady next door was going contraction on contraction with me. I was SO excited when the nurse came in and told me that the neighbor was 5 cm dilated and on her way.

Me:”That means Emma’s on her way!”

Nurse:”Let’s check how dilated you are now”

Me: “Oh, I hope I am more than 5cm”

Nurse (checking…I will spare you details): “Ummmm”

Me: “What? Am I further along??”

Nurse: “Well…”

Me: “What”

Nurse: “Your cervix is still posterior, you are still 1 cm and 50% effaced. So, nothing is happening”

Me:” What the hell!!!!”

Nurse:”You could just be in VERY early labor…we will monitor you for a while and then check again. Cervixes can be tricky, sometimes they take a while to POP”

Me:”My cervix will POP?”

Nurse:” Everyone is different”

Me (desperation in my voice):”How do I make my cervix POP?”

……Long story shorter…turns out that I am one of those “Exceptions” yet again….The doctor finally made it in to give me the scoop.

My body technically shows every sign of labor and is contracting regularly but no progress is being made. So, since I am a few days short of 37 weeks, they will not do anything. Turns out that this can go on for hours, days, weeks…and all they can do Is give me ambien to sleep. Great, just what I need, more drugs, more waiting and more contractions. I am the queen of false labor…I am in Hell…

AND, even though these contractions are uncomfortable and painful, I MUST wait until I am ready to claw my eyeballs out to come back into the hospital. If I make it to 39 weeks they will induce…I feel that there might be a bit of negotiating going on at my next appointment. Let’s not kid ourselves; I have been having contractions for almost 5 weeks now. Even the most patient person (which is NOT me) would be a bit frustrated. I will not go into the details of how I am scheming to get this child out, nor what I have asked Gregory to do in order to aid me. Let’s just say that there is a reason in every pregnancy book they tell you not to try and check your own cervix and why people in my state are not allowed near sharp objects. Gregory has also taken the truck away from me and forced me to stay at home in air-conditioning. He has not tied me up yet since I am writing this, but he has threatened to take away my gummi bears and gelato if I don’t behave.

I have a feeling this is not going to turn out well.

Scenario (Erin is actually in labor)

Erin: It hurts!

Doctor: You are 9 cm!!

Erin: I want my epidural!!

Doctor: It’s too late

Erin: You are SH*&TING me!! This is your entire fault!! You told me to come in when I was ready to claw my eyeballs out. Now I can’t have my drugs

Gregory slips me the flask of gin when the doctor is not looking….

Yes, I actually fear I might miss the epidural window, but hell, I am the “Exception” and as long as Emma comes out (sooner than later please!) the better.

Ok, enough about drugs and giving birth. I was discharged at 5:30 am with some Ambien and regular contractions that were going nowhere. Instead of going home and doing what the doctors told me, I gave them the proverbial “screw it” got a coffee and headed off to the triathlon with Gregory. We had a great morning spectating!

Laura is a fish! now, how the heck she can run like this after swimming is beyond me! Emma is learning to swim from Laura.

Crusing along on the run course. It was only a mild 1oo degrees out!

Happy neighbor Tom!

Tom is REALLY good at transitions! All joking aside, congrats on an awesome swim and great race Tom!!

Made it home a bit after noon and slept for a few hours and have been contracting ever since. Still trying to work a bit, but mostly killing time crocheting, figuring out ways to induce labor and stuffing my face with “healthy foods” (see below)

Our good friend Dondi was kind enough to pay a visit last night to check in to see how Gregory and I were doing. Well, mostly to see how I was doing. She brought me gelato and mini-cookies AND tells me I look beautiful. Hence, she is my new best friend and I allow her to drink alcohol in front of me and I restrain from drooling. In all honesty, Dondi has been great! She always checks in on me and reads my blog AND tells me I am funny. She even has a few labor-inducing suggestions!

Note: the cookies are mini; hence you can have more of them. They also have oats, so they are healthy!

Maybe labor is like a race? Perhaps I should “visualize” my water breaking…however, with my luck I would probably end up peeing myself instead.

Sigh….

On to more crocheting and knitting….

Squirrel Hunting

Yesterday marked one month until my latest-possible-due-date. What does that mean? Well, that means that if all goes accordingly, because we all know that things have been progressing extremely smoothly throughout my pregnancy that we should have a little Emma with us on August 7th!!

So, in accordance to this impending arrival, Gregory took it upon himself to put the stroller together (cue in “Mission Impossible” theme song) and no, the stroller did not end up looking like those he “tried out” in Babies R Us. Success!


Other news…we made it through the July 4th weekend WITHOUT any more trips to the ER and even celebrated our anniversary. Carrying on with my healthy diet, we made sure to celebrate 3 years married and nourish ourselves accordingly with fries and 2 pieces of cheesecake (hey, I get everything in 2’s these days!). Gregory got a salad; so lame!

I also realized I forgot to tell everyone about my garden!! Those of you who know me well, understand that I have this natural gift. I kill plants! Nothing more to it, just looking at them makes them whither up and die. I am the queen of drying roses, but as for keeping them alive…one week, max! Speaking of roses, Gregory got me some beautiful ones for our anniversary!! I am so spoiled…they are not dead yet …


Ok, back to the balcony garden. For once, I managed to keep something alive for more than a day. A few weeks actually! And then it wasn’t even my fault when things started going downhill. All of a sudden, Gregory’s tomatoes started to go missing…then a herb plant knocked over…and finally a bunch of rose buds magically disappearing from my rose bush. I thought it was my curse!! But then, one day, while sitting on the couch, I caught the culprit!!

CAUGHT RED HANDED!!

Now, that does not necessarily explain why all the rest of the flowers in the house are silk or any of the living plants belong to Gregory….but, for the time being, it is not my fault. I CAN keep a garden going and I DO have a green thumb (a very short one). Gregory is now busy booby-trapping our balcony to kill the squirrel.

What else…hmmm…oh, yeah! I am teaching myself how to knit and crochet! My mom and Gregory laughed their a$$ off at me when I told them I was going to do such a thing. Gregory thinks I am a fuddy-duddy and my mom thinks my attention span and inability to coordinate may “hinder” my progress. I told Gregory he can thank me when he wears some nice warm mittens and scarves this winter. Honestly, this stuff is hard! I am not coordinated and this takes coordination. But, I AM determined. If per chance I go into labor and the tour is not on TV I will need something to keep me busy. So far, I have knitted one “cube” and learned a few crochet stitches. I am determined! I have a bunch of yarn, a few patterns and now I just need to execute….final last words before someone finds me trying to choke myself with the circular knitting needles.

Ok, and I know all of you are dying to know what our little monster (I am talking about Emma, not me) is up to since they released me from bed-rest. The answer is “nothing”!! Holy crap! I was ready to pop this kid out 3 weeks ago and they pumped me full of drugs to stop it. Now, I am having contractions and have clearance to evict this kid, but the contractions are nothing regular or patterned, although they are stronger and uncomfortable. Yesterday we were in for a check-up and I thought I might have a bit of progress as in dilation/effacement. Nope, nothing, nadda!! I told Gregory I might lose it since my belly has been experiencing “Charlie horses” since Monday night…and according to the doctor, this could go on for weeks!! AND according to the doctor, I should come into the hospital when my water breaks or the contractions are so bad I can’t walk through them...lovely. You should have seen Gregory bite his tongue when he really wanted to tell them that I broke my pelvis running and that sort of pain-scale might not be the best to recommend to me; now we have friends placing bets on if I will make it to the hospital in time for an epidural. All I can say is that if I don’t make it in time for the epidural, the doctor is feeding me shots of gin until I can’t feel anything down there….

Practically speaking, Emma should cook for one more week, so I will try to be Miss Positive “I love being pregnant because it makes me feel so maternal and beautiful and I love my big boobs (I still think I was ripped off in this department, I mean I am barely a C-cup, C’mon, I think I earned a bit more than that!)” till I hit 37 weeks, then I am letting the “crazy” lose. Yup, my legs may fall out of my sockets but I start running again; oh, and for the record, all the crap hit the fan health-wise for me the minute I stopped my running/regular exercise. So for all of you nay-sayers, I am NOT listening! I will do sit-ups till this kid pops out or my water breaks and I will drink the “tea”…but I WONT do the castor oil (I will spare you all the details of why).

Some of you may think I am being overdramatic, and yes, I know I am (plus, if I wasn’t it wouldn’t be funny!). But, keep in mind that most pregnant women start getting/feeling contractions around 37-38 weeks and see progress at that stage. Their engines are revving up. Well, I am NOT at 37-38 weeks yet and my engine has been revving for a month already; I might be having Charlie horses (my new word for fake contractions) for 4 more weeks and to be honest, that thought is not very appealing. I am over pregnancy, hospitals and I just want to meet Emma. There…rant over, time for gelato…

On a more positive note, Emma is “docked and loaded” according to the doctor….I am not sure how to take that….Oh, and I put on the 1 lb I lost last week. My a$$ is looking very voluptuous.

Gelato…important stuff!

Jail Break!!

FREE, FREE, FREE!!! OMG!! This is the best day ever!!

You might have thought I won the lottery from how excited I am (well, to me it seems as if I have). After a week of bed-rest I was cut loose today. No, I am not allowed to go run 10 miles nor take on the world like I usually try, but, at least I am allowed out of bed.

So, doctors orders were “Listen to your body”….well, you could hear Gregory snort and mutter some obscene word underneath his breath. Yes, the doctor was instructing someone who came into the hospital a little over a week ago “feeling a bit under the weather” who ended up having 3 severe infections and in pre-term labor to “listen to my body” (and this is just one whacked out example of how I am the “exception”). Obviously, the scale needs to be adjusted. But, you know I get it; I need to stay put and be “normal.” Otherwise, Gregory has threatened to tie me up…seriously.

I am officially at 35 weeks now and the doctors are fine to let things progress naturally; so no more nasty drugs!! Well, almost no more. Turns out my body does worse on bed-rest than it does running around like a crazed lady with ADD. I think I am the only pregnant lady who can actually lose weight while on bed rest for a week! Yes, down a pound; but up 1 cm in belly growth. Emma is getting bigger; I am getting scrawny. For the past 3 days I have been sick as a dog and taking anti-nausea medicine. Another bonus side effect of impending delivery, but of course no definite timeline suggested…it could be tomorrow or 4 more weeks…lovely. Anyhow, if you want to hop on the new diet craze, just get knocked up and wait 9 months.

At one point in time we thought we might be taking Emma home with us over the weekend. You see, since Tuesday, Emma has been “migrating” downward and in the process some other “bits” get squished. Let’s just say that sometimes “accidents” happen and at this stage the doctors want to make sure that I had not broken my water. In which case they were going to admit me immediately and induce. I was a bit shocked, concerned and unprepared, but I was logical enough to have my first question lined up if I was to be induced: “when can I get the epidural?” and second “can I have a shot of gin?.” Good news is that my water was not broken; bad news is now I am peeing my pants. Better not sneeze…..

Really, at this point in time, anything is humorous. I am sure I am grossing some people out, but what the hell, this is my blog and I can write about peeing in my bike shorts during a race, so I can talk about peeing my pants while pregnant.

On the dilating front, still 1 cm, but now I am 50% effaced. Things are moving along.
My doctor told me; 2 more weeks would be great if we can get that…..so, I am crossing my legs for the time being.

My doctor also looked at my chart and the recent string of events to happen within the past 2 weeks; she then looked at Gregory and asked what my “delivery” present was....I am not sure if she was expecting the answer that she got.

I think the doctors are slowly getting an idea of who they are dealing with (now they see me every week other than once a month) when my husband mumbled “a bike frame”…

Doctor: Silece…. “oh, ok, that is nice and unique. Usually women ask for jewelry and diamonds”

Gregory: “I offered her that, but we had to negotiate. Apparently pregnancy warrants a bike frame”

Doctor (looking at me): “You know that you won’t be able to ride right after you deliver?”

Me (in stirrups): “are we done yet?”

And of course I will make sure to attach a bucket seat to my new bike frame to haul Emma around in.

So, there you have it folks, Emma will arrive sometime “soon” whether that be a day from now or 4 weeks depends on how the moon aligns and whether or not they are playing Grey’s Anatomy re-runs….yes, you can sense my sarcasm. It Is like being at the end of an Ironman yet they keep changing the finish line +/- 10 miles. All that being said, I do feel more reassured now; 35 weeks is acceptable, not perfect, but good enough should Emma decide to be impatient (gee, I really keep wondering where she gets that from??). So now I just sit back, relax and cross my legs….

Is It Almost Over???

Day 4….and still alive!!

For anyone who wants to help, I could use some good company and a stiff gin martini. Oh and perhaps a slice of cake.

Gregory has been really good to me; he found out that if he brings me cheddar chips and gelato every day I seem to become bearable. Then I go into a food coma and pass out so he doesn’t have to deal with me.

Other news…Emma is “stuck” Despite all efforts to prevent this labor from happening early; everything is pointing in the direction of Emma coming out sooner than later. But, now, just because I have written that, she will decide to be “late”…anyhow, for those of you who are wondering what I am talking about; Emma has “descended “and in the process my legs have dislodged from my sockets and my belly has taken to looking like a basketball. Yes folks, I now look like a waddling anorexic twig who swallowed a basketball. Over the past month or so being sick, I have not been able to put on much weight. The doctors don’t seem worried because Emma is measuring fine…perhaps they should be worried as my a$$ is going to turn out smaller than what I started with (which was not that big to begin with and I will be forever traumatized from my sisters teasing throughout my life that I have a flat butt). Emma is getting her weight from somewhere…perhaps my overmusculated swimmer arms???

Anyhow, a stuck Emma is an unhappy Emma. Moving around freely in my belly, poking, prodding, kicking and even swimming has now been replaced with angry squirming and some nice foot jabs to my chest. She is not happy being stuck down there and I am sure she is plotting her “escape.” Determined little monster isn’t she? She is my daughter, so that should not surprise me or anyone else. Gregory finds it entertaining…lots of “mooooos”, ship horn noises and laughs coming from him when I waddle.

Other news tomorrow is Canada Day!! Whoo hoo! I think I will celebrate with turkey hot dogs and gelato. Oh wait, I have that every night…..

Also, Saturday marks the one year anniversary since I did La Marmotte. Pretty crazy what can happen in a year; it’s all Gregory’s fault.

As you can tell, I am going a bit stir crazy here… one more day and then I may be set free. If they keep me on bed rest, Gregory will have to remove all sharp (and dull) objects from the house and tie me up in a straight jacket.

Day 2

Day 2….I have made it almost 48 hours…and I am typing this, so obviously Gregory has not tied me up yet.

Funny thing is when you are on bed-rest, there seems to be a lot more time to write; about random stuff. So, you might be hearing a bit more from me this week.

Did you know that Jake and Vienna from the bachelor broke up? I am shocked!! There are reasons why the Menvielle household does not have a T.V. However, at times like this, I think it might be a nice luxury. Usually, I go downstairs to the clubhouse to watch my favorite programs if I have the urge, but Gregory won’t let me go down there because there is a treadmill and elliptical. He doesn’t trust me; smart man…

All joking aside, I do realize that I have to be careful what I say/write in this blog. People who don’t know Gregory and I might read my blog and think that we are absolutely INSANE!!...well, there might be some truth to that.

A lot of people might think that Gregory is somewhat “insensitive” when it comes to me and me being pregnant. I mean, who calls their wife “Panamax” and makes ship horn noises when they try to roll over in bed? Well, Gregory does, and it makes me laugh! Gregory also knows that unless it is absolutely necessary, I can carry my own bags, carry the groceries, put up a pantry door and do lots of heavy work (even WHILE pregnant) and if he tries to stop me, I might beat the shit out of him (not kidding). I have always been independent and I always will be independent, because that is who I am…and that is why Gregory loves me.

I can’t think of many men who could spend a night in the ER after an Ironman because their wife is in a coma and wonder if they are going to make it; then allow them to continue to pursue their dreams even if it scares the crap out of them every time I toe that race starting line. But, that’s the beauty of our relationship, Gregory demonstrates his love for me by letting me weather my own storms in order to learn and grow. It’s harder on him than putting his foot down, saying no and protecting me. He does not shelter me and I grow from that. Let me tell you, I am a MUCH different person that I was 3 years ago and I can look back and say that I was crazy; but, how would I know that if I wasn’t given the room, support and love to grow?

It takes a strong man to deal with me; I am not easy to get along with at times, and sometimes it is hard for me to admit I need help. But, bless my husband, because he knows exactly what I need when I need it. He is also brings out the best in me; even when I am on bed-rest. He is my best friend and realizes that sometimes all the material things in the world will never replace a good conversation.

I truly am fortunate. After a week like last, I could be down in the dumps, but to be honest, I am ok. I am not devastated, broken or torn down. Yes, I am tired and drained, but, I have over a year to plan with my husband how to overcome my visa issues. That is much more than what many others have. I may have spent more time that I like in a hospital, but Emma is still in my belly cooking; it does not matter how much discomfort and pain I may be in, she is #1 at this time. That is part of being a mom…nothing means more than your child and family. And as for my grandpa….well, words cannot describe the loss and the sadness I feel today when my family will put him to rest. But, I also can smile, because I can remember him for what an amazing man he was.

My Pop (grandpa) was one of the most determined, motivated, and stubborn men that I knew. Yet he was so kind and gentle, often taking an afternoon to just sit and watch birds. He had such an aura about him; he would wink at me always reminding me “I know what you are up to kiddo.” He was also very smart; an intellectual man whose charm and intelligence made you love him. These memories and stories I will treasure and look forward to sharing with Emma when she is old enough.


This is one of my favorite pictures taken during our last visit to France. It is the beach at Dieppe. My pop fought on this beach during WWII. It puts so much into perspective; words cannot describe. He will be missed dearly.

So there you have it; day 2 bed rest from the Menvielles. Everyone is accounted for and hanging tough! We are an optimistic bunch, sick I know…

Gregory is looking for a tranquilizer

Back in January, Gregory and I somehow found ourselves reading our “yearly” horoscope. The short of the long was we were going to have a “challenging” first ½ of the year and then things were going to be great!! Well, I must say that these first 6 months have not been the easiest and Gregory and I have been “tested” in more ways than one. We are counting down to Thursday, July 1st when things are supposed to “roll over” and the skies will part and rain skittles.


All of this being said, Gregory and I always try to look on the positive side of things and bring out the best in any situation. There are always people worse off and really, you need to be thankful for what you have. You may have noticed that many of my posts are laced with humor, and of course laughter is the best medicine. So, I am going to do my best with this post…although it might come across a bit cynical. Truth be told, life happens, it is not always good, but we always manage to survive and move forward.


That is until you bring in the words “full bed rest” and combine them with “Chewy”


Yes folks, that is right… full bed rest, for me…and the funny thing was I was not the first to break down in this situation, I think Gregory cried first!


I like to think I am a pretty strong woman. I didn’t cry when I found out that it would be impossible for me to obtain a Greencard within the next 2 years (although Gregory and I were lead to believe it was possible last year when we were contemplating where to deliver Emma) and that we may face the decision of relocation within a year to remain “legal” and I do not get deported. I didn’t cry when I started having contractions on Monday 6 & ½ weeks early and ended up in the ER where they shot me up 3 times on with some God awful medicine to stop the contractions and some antibiotic horse pills to cure my first infection, nor when I spent the next 4 hours puking my brains out only to find myself back in the hospital with more contractions. I didn’t cry when I found out my back was hurting not only due to contractions but due to an additional kidney infection started by a UTI and they had to shoot me up with more medicine through an IV. I didn’t cry when I was discharged and sent home only to receive a message the next morning that my grandpa had passed away. I didn’t cry that I couldn’t make it home for the funeral due to my health. I also didn’t cry when the contractions started again on Friday and kept me up all night. I didn’t cry when we were back in the hospital Saturday afternoon getting another shot to kill the contractions….but then the doctor said “we have to take you from restricted activity to full bed rest” I cried…


And then I laughed..Because I looked at my loving husband, who was absolutely drained from such a week and saw the sheer terror in his eyes when he realized he would have a restrained Chewy on his hands. I kid you not; he asked the nurse if she could keep me in the hospital and tranquilize me. Unfortunately for Gregory, they did not agree.


So, I am writing this post from home, in the “supine” position while Gregory is out purchasing restraints and scheming how he will lace my water with ambien so that I don’t drive him crazy.


You see, I can handle “slowing down for while”…heck, I can tolerate transatlantic flights, so it can’t be that bad. But you put a pregnant, nesting, type A personality woman in her house and tell her to stay in bed….you spell trouble. It’s like putting a Rottweiler in a cage and taunting it. In this case, Gregory is the dog trainer…this is not going to be pretty.


We had our first “altercation” this morning when he wouldn’t let me get up to put the laundry in the laundry machine. I threw a tantrum like a 2 year old…hence, why Gregory is out buying restraints and duct tape.


Come Friday, I am not so worried of what state of mind or frenzy I will be in, I am more worried on if Gregory will strangle me or not.


So, my follow-up appointment is on Friday with the doctors, which is July 2nd. YES, that is JULY!! Which means that the sh&tty first ½ of the year will be over! I am assuming at that time, they will allow to me start running again; at least 5 miles a day and perhaps let me have a roll of sushi…oh yeah and maybe a gin martini, because those are great for babies too! LOL…oh, and it will be raining skittles.


All sarcasm aside, Friday WILL be a good day, because although I may not be allowed off of bed-rest and my husband may be filing for divorce, my little Emma will be 35 weeks along, which is a heck of a lot better than 33 ½, 34, or anything under 35! 35 is the magic number; actually 37 is, but for me when you have experienced a week like this 35 weeks is the stage where you know that if you baby arrives early, they may need a bit of extra care and attention, but they will be ok.


Speaking of Emma; I may have not met her yet, but I have come to the conclusion that she is a little “overachiever” (hmmm..I wonder who she get’s that from?? Couldn’t be her mom or dad??) and that she is a little monster. I say that in the most kind, loving, caring way I possibly could. I LOVE this kid and she is such a blessing, but she really has an outrageously entertaining personality. Throughout this whole ordeal, guess whose heart rate did not change, kept boogying in my belly and poking around and made a game of trying to kick the monitors off my belly? Yup, Emma is doing just fine. The only time she behaves is when her dad talks to her; she is going to be “daddy’s little girl”…I REALLY cannot wait to meet her! …well, maybe 2 more weeks please! But by then, she probably will have decided she really likes my belly and will over-extend her stay to 42 weeks at which point in time they will induce me..you just wait! It probably will happen.


Gregory is home now….if you don’t hear from me this week, that means that Gregory has buried me alive….

1 cm down 9 to go!

No, I am not kidding; I will be 34 weeks pregnant on Friday and Emma is ready to go. Just like her mom, she is impatient. Why plan to do something in 6 weeks when you can do it now? Why be on time for a meeting when you can be early?

Fortunately, the doctors restrained the little munchkin and hopefully she will be staying put for a few more weeks to finish “cooking.” That is unless she decides to poke her finger through that 1 cm hole out of “curiosity”…I would not put it past her.

And for the record, it was not because I was “running;” I actually gave that up 3 weeks ago. I was going to write a long drawn out post about “the talk” that Gregory and I had regarding “temporarily putting the running on hold”. You know the very serious conversations in a marriage that might tilt the axis for a bit? The short of the long is that we both agreed that it would be better to keep my legs in their sockets (did you know that your hips stretch like gumbi once you hit 30 weeks?) and avoid peeing my shorts for a few weeks. So for all you running while pregnant nay-sayers, I WAS NOT RUNNING!!

I blame it on 2 things:

1. Swimming

2. Babies R’ Us

Now I have to actually go into the details of my wonderful 24 hour stay in the ER in order for me to prove my point. I have experienced “Braxton Hicks” contractions throughout the pregnancy; even at my 13 week ultrasound the technician pointed out one; so it was no surprise to me last week when I went in for my check-up that the doctor pointed out I was having some. Of course, I chalked that tight “abdominal” feeling to my stellar abdominal strength and fitness; at some point I had to face the reality that it was not true since I cannot sit up on my own anymore and Gregory has to help me roll over. One can dream though, right?

So, I had the very stern “orders” from the doctor: “NO MORE THAN 4 PER HOUR” while resting. Well, crap! I have been having these on and off for a while…I better pay attention.
Also, on a side note, I had been feeling a bit "off" for a few weeks prior, but when you are pregnant, everything is due to being “pregnant.” And, to be honest, when you have a personality like mine, there is no in-between "feeling" that you are sick. You are either "healthy" in terms that how you feel is manageable or you are "sick" as in stick a fork in me, I am done. I have learned through this experience, that I need to learn more about the "grey area"...kind of like that pain scale from 1-10 (in other words, numbers 2-9 actually do exist)...and I had better figure that out soon because they will not give me an epidural at 1 and it will be too late for an epidural at 10.

I digress...back to the action

So, Monday throughout the day, I felt the BH contractions a lot, and a lot stronger than usual. Time to call the doctor; we went through a few phone calls, resting, hydrating etc.. At 8pm the contractions got stronger and “regular”….time to go to the hospital.

We arrive at the hospital and they hook me up to the monitor; Emma is ticking along just fine and she HATES the little monitors on my belly. It actually was really funny to watch my belly shake as she tried to kick them off. As for the contractions, well there is this lovely drug that they use to “kill” them and they did. 34 weeks is a bit too early to have a baby if you don’t have to. They discovered I was 1 cm dilated and infected (lovely, I know). Bacterial infections are known to cause early labor/contractions, so I was discharged at 1 am with some antibiotics and my contractions were under control. I didn’t feel so hot, but attributed that to the medication…..

That was until we got home and I spent the night worshiping the white throne. At 5 am back to the hospital for an IV.

At 6 am, they knew there was something else wrong as my contractions were back. More medicine…

Don’t worry, Emma was fine…I don’t think anything phases this kid. She was having a grand ole time in my belly; still pissed off at the monitors though.

An abdominal ultrasound (which, by the way, the technician said I have a “big” baby for those of you who think I am too small…my liver is now located behind my boob), more tests, more drugs, more checks and 16 hours later we have concluded that I am still holding at 1 cm, I am still “infected” but in more ways than one. I mean, I know I like to do things “all out” but I think this is the icing on the cake!! Count it: bacterial vaginitis, a urinary tract infection and a kidney infection! And those were what caused the contractions…SO NO, IT WAS NOT BECAUSE I RAN UP TO 30 weeks!!

Thankfully, I am at home now with lots of drugs to keep things under control and keep the bun in the oven.

Oh, and in case I forgot to mention, Emma is just fine…I think she finds all the action entertaining.

However, I do have a theory behind all this madness; infections happen to the body when you are “exposed” and “stressed.”

How did I become “exposed”?? I blame it on the pool. I knew that the deep dreaded feeling coming from my gut when I look at the swimming pool wasn’t just because I loathed the thing. My body was telling my there were “bugs” in the water….ok, ok, I might be a bit overdramatic right now, but if I am this sick, I am going to use any excuse not to get back in the water. Additionally, I have past history to back it up…this is my 4th “infection” down there…and all of them occurred sometime after getting in the pool (doesn’t matter if it was one day or ahem…3 weeks after swimming). It has nothing to do with my hormone levels or peeing in any bush/porta potty I can find while running. But, we already covered the fact that none of this was due to running, so let’s stick to the important fact: swimming is BAD…BAD…BAD….

Reason # 2: STRESS

BABIES R US=STRESS!!!

Over the weekend, Gregory and I had to make one final stop at Babies R Us to pick up a few things. I don’t think I need to elaborate here and I will let the story speak itself through pictures….

The gate to hell....

Gregory is so excited to be in such a "supportive" and "comforting" environment for parents-to-be.

And..if you love the place as much as I do, they are hiring! Who wouldn't want to wear one of those lovely purple shirts...(If you are not catching my sarcasm here, please read back to previous posts)

Gregory took a walk throught the stroller section again...he is lucky they don't have his picture posted on the wall warning employees not to let him touch a stroller.

This is my "Why the hell do you need a plastic cover for the changing pad when the changing pad already has a waterproof cover...." The answer is: because Babies R Us can make 5 extra dollars by trying to sell it to insecure parents-to-be. I love this place....we went with the cheapest cover with NO plastic.

The aftermath....and this is when I think the contractions began.....

Good news, I get to work from bed and the boss gave me the day off...he is pretty nice:)