I got it. With green trim. The last one at the Gap. $14.99. Love this bag.

And *thee* cutest shoes at Old Navy for $3.97.

I may, just may, have a shopping problem.

Yeah, right.

My day tomorrow:

8:30 - leave the house

9:00 - drop A at camp
9:20 - take O to his 2 year check up
10:30-11:45 - kill time doing errands (i.e. a return at Gymboree, hopefully with a sleeping O in the stroller)
12:00 - pick up A at camp
12:15-1:30 - lunch date w/ camp friends at Benihana's to celebrate the last day of camp
2:00-4:00 - pool playdate for all of us at camp friend's house
4:20-5:20 - take A to gym class
6:00-8:00 - swimming and pizza with neighborhood mom friends.

8:05 - return home

I miss those lazy "babymoon" days after A was born, when we spent mornings in bed snuggling, nursing, drinking coffee, puttering around the house. Then perhaps a playdate around the very reasonable hour of 10 am. Moms of babys - be warned! - once your child hits preschool age, your butt will never leave the car again. Enjoy all those lazy baby days when you wonder what exactly you are supposed to do all.day.long. Those days when 6 pm never comes soon enough. Because soon enough there will be more than enough childhood to fill all that time.

We don't even do that much! A goes to camp and does gymnastics, O has playgroup. They'll both have swimming lessons in July, but then there will be no camp. That's really not a lot of stuff. Hmmm.

Time for backyards, ice pops, sprinklers and slides, friends and laughter. Memories.

I want another baby. I think. When I see pictures of little babies, pictures of big mama bellies, pictures of families with 3 kids, my heart aches, just aches. But then I look at my family, 2 parents, 2 kids and it is so neat and compact and easily portable. O has been a challenge since birth, and he still is but he is better, he is getting better. We can do things! Fun things! We can still afford things! Not so sure how to do it all if we have 3.

But I am from a family of 3 kids. I see a shadow, a missing step when I look at my two boys, I feel in my heart someone is missing. But then I feel greedy. Look at my boys. Healthy, handsome, smart, funny. I feel like I would be tempting fate to try again. Too greedy. Be happy with what you have. There is something about a third birth that freaks me out, not the pregnancy so much but the birth. It terrifies me. I fear I used up all my good birthing karma with O.

But life is short, life is fragile. Family, children they are what is important. Not stuff, not doing stuff, not affording stuff. It feels selfish not to have another for those types of reasons. Because one more mouth would not put us anywhere near the poor house. M would just have to keep postponing all that work he wants to do on his car. Fabulous vacations would cease - oh wait, we don't take those anyway!

My children are loved. They are special and kind and loving. The kind of kids the world needs more of (no bias here). I must, I just must out-produce Kevin Federline. Can not let his spawn take over the world.

I need some fat baby thighs to munch on.

But in the meantime I have trained my 2 year old O well -

Me: O, are you a baby or a big boy?
O: I a baby!
Me: Whose baby are you?
O: Mommy's baby!

I fear if I don't have more kids, I will become one of those evil MIL's. Too possessive, too clingy to my boys.

And I have some sick third world view that the more children I have the more protected I am from their loss. M can't deal with that view and thinks I need help. But two just seems so few, and so easily lost. Three seems bountiful.

When I was pregnant this last time I felt like I was walking around with a "Breeder" sign on my head. I felt strange and extravagant to be having 3 children. Now, back down to two, I feel bereft, empty, the need for more.

There is no need to decide today. Or tomorrow, or next month, or even this year. But that doesn't mean I will not think about it every single day. I just wish I knew the answer. The last pregnancy, such an accident, was such a gift, the decision totally taken from us, made by nature.

I hear my friend telling me what her mother said, that she could have been a really good mother to two kids - rather than four. I hear another friend mention that her MIL realized she was a much better mother to her sons then her daughter. There are days I don't even know if I am a good mom to my two boys, at the very least there are days I could do better. Could I possibly mother 3? Then I hear my MIL, on her 56th brthday, asked if she had any regrets. Her answer, not having another child. A terrible, terrible regret. I hear my mother, saying how happy she was they had a thrid child, no regret, just so much love for her baby, my brother, younger than me by 11 years. Obviously my mom felt that nagging longing too.

Last night M asked me why I wanted another child. Would it make me happier than I am now? I had no answer. Just that I do.

My tooth hurts, more specifically the gum around my tooth. I am too cheap right now to go to the Dentist so I am self-medicating with bourbon. Good old Jim Beam. When I was little I remember my parents soaking the edge of a washcloth with bourbon for me when I had a similar pain. I was raised right, that's all I'm sayin'.

I love A, he is a bit of a precisionist, not perfectionist, because he does things with an exactment (see I am just going to make up words as I see fit) that boggles my mind, since I am a bit of a "enh, good enough" (hence the messy house) person.

At his preschool he has to wear a uniform, and he is feeling completely liberated by being able to choose his own clothes for camp every day now. Yesterday he appeared in a RED Cornell shirt with BLUE lettering and a bit of WHITE detailing. The shorts were a beloved (but hideously loud!) pair of FLY YELLOW and BLACK Nike gym shorts with WHITE piping (a hand-me-down from an idolized neighbor). So I nicely suggested that he consider wearing his white Batman shirt - b/c that would pick up the black and yellow nicely. And the response, "But Mommmmmm, I want to be matching! See, white (pointing to speck of white on shirt) and white (points to speck of white piping on shorts)." How could I disagree? He matched!

I think he got his father's sense of style.

The coveted bag -

I liked the other beachy scene, but it was rather sterile. This one seems more fun. Though if you know me, you know I don't wear a bikini - I am much more of a tankini type of girl. God bless the inventor of the tankini. The ease of a 2 piece - for those of us who have small itty bitty bladders after pregnancy - but the coverage of a one piece - for those of us with a poochy belly after pregnancy. Love them.

I just feel antsy and the need for a change. Much easier and cheaper to give my blog a new look than to go out and give myself a new look. Like how hard I am trying not to go to the Gap and buy several of their really cute eyelet skirts. So cute, and light! Perfect for a Florida mom. But I am so cheap, I can not even pay $25 for a skirt, it doesn't fit my description of a bargain. Not when I was there yesterday and bought 2 pairs of swimming fins, 2 pairs of shorts and a belt for the boys for the same exact amount of money. But those skirts are still calling my name. And the really, really cute straw bag with buckle, down to $19.99. Sigh. As my dear husband says, you can go broke buying lots of bargains.

Anyway, another new look for me. I'm still working out some kinks, but hey, life is never perfect.

Some days you just need a treat. Like making yourself baked brie with apples and blueberries for lunch. All for yourself, sharing with no one. It smells so good right now, I can not wait. Smells so much better than the canned Batman Spagettios I made the boys. Bad Mommy!

Recipe:
1 brie round of whatever size you want
Can of sliced apple pie filling
Frozen blueberries to taste

Peel back the top rind off the brie round.
Place brie round in a baking dish.
Pour apple pie filling over top.
Pour blueberries over top.
Bake at 350 for 20 minutes or until desired doneness.

Modify recipe to your own needs and then serve with baguette and crackers. Red wine sounds like a good accompaniant too doesn't it? Too bad it is only 1:30! But tonight is Mom's Night Out with my neighbor friends. Am I counting down the hours? Minutes? Maybe....

Today in the parking lot of a local oceanographic center a couple walked past us. Perhaps intrigued that people without kids were going to a place he perceives as for children, A stopped and turned to me and said, "Some people have kids and some people don't right?" And I agreed to this. Then he said "And if you have kids then you're lucky right?" I agreed to this too. Then he said, "And if you have the best kids you're really really lucky." And I had to agree to that too, because in my eye I really do have the best kids!

We're not potty training exactly, but O, like all 2 year olds is very into potty functions. So tonight after I changed his poopy diaper and was telling him the beauty of pooping on the potty, he started yelling "I pee! I pee potty!" He has peed on the potty before and been so proud of himself, so taking what I could get, I stuck him backwards on the potty. And he sat there for a few seconds. Nothing happened. Getting annoyed he started yelling "Come out! Come out!" Obviously more annoyed, he started hitting his maleness and yelling all the louder "Come out, come out!" If I had not been dying on the floor with laughter, I would have got the video. Hopefully he'll do this again. Must.get.video.

I needed a change of scenery. See you at the beach!

Things that went wrong -

-A pulled his placemat when he was getting into his chair this morning - upturning his full bowl of cereal and milk all over his freshly dressed for camp self. Messy.

-About 5 minutes later, while reaching into the fridge for blueberries, I knocked over a plastic container filled with baby mozarella balls marinating in OLIVE OIL. It shattered and oil went all over the fridge, the floor and on over to the cabinets on the other side of the kitchen. Um, I think I actually howled. It was a messy morning.

-While cleaning my kitchen sink with soft scrub, I leaned over too far and now have a nice orange bleach line on one of my favorite black shirts.

Things that went right -

-A good friend watched O while I had some me time this morning. Another good friend took A home with her and her son after camp so I could rest a bit.

-When I went to pick A up from his playdate we all decided it was too nice a day to end so we went to the beach for awhile. Love the beach between 4 and 6, just the best time.

-During my me time this morning I went shopping for shorts, I desperately needed some but had put it off thinking I would be wearing maternity shorts this summer, and I bought my first pair of size 6 shorts in years. Years. The tag says "Nouveau Fit" so I think that is sort of French for "we know you are really an 8, really sometimes a 10, but we knew you needed that little ego boost today so we changed all of our sizes to reflect your neeedy self."

-As I was putting O to bed tonight he just rolled over and yelled "I WUV YOU" and started blowing mad kisses at me. I felt so loved. I need to bottle this kid up. I know all moms are biased, but he is a special little soul, he just draws people in. I think it's called charm :)

-My husband has tirelessly done the dishes all week, volunteering, no complaining. He takes such good care of me.

At least the good outweighed the bad. No one can ask for more than that.

I really should not complain, it has not even been a week yet, but really it is just one of those things you want to be over. So over.

Today was not a good day. Started out fine, took A to camp, then took O to swim lessons, had coffee with some friends at a local bakery, picked A up at camp. That's when things got icky. We were supposed to go to a make your own pottery place with O's playgroup after camp but I was having such bad cramps I decided enough was enough and we were going home. (Stop reading here if you are faint of stomach.) Good decision because on the way home I started just gushing blood. It was an awful, nauseating, just gross feeling. And worrisome. And it is a 20 minute ride home. A long 20 minutes. I am very, very glad we have leather seats. That's all I am saying.

I call M when we are home and he is basically like "um, you NEED to call the doctor!" so I do of course and they tell me to come right in. Big scramble where I run the boys to my friend Debbie's house and M comes home from work to get me b/c there is no way I can drive the 25 minutes to the OB while gushing blood. I have several pads on and still have soaked through onto the seat again by the time we arrive at the OB's office. Just gross. And scary. Thankfully I thought ahead and packed several pairs of pants and underwear. I just threw the soiled ones out. Yuck.

But the worst was still to come. I had read about this on the mothering.com pregnancy loss boards but thought I would escape it since my uterus was "empty" according to the ultrasound. But obviously they have a different meaning of empty than I do. Basically if you have a natural miscarriage you have a mini-labor. You have terrible contraction like cramps. You actually need to push to expel the tissue, the clots. If there were a baby or a sac those would have come out too, at least I was spared that. But there was so much blood, I don't know how people notice anyway. This all actually came to pass at the doctor's office.

Then I had the exam. I love my doctor, I really do. But it hurt, like hell. There were forceps. Tissue extraction. Gauze pads. Cervix cleaning. My poor va-jay-jay. After 4 hours of pushing and a failed forceps attempt at A's birth and then 2.5 hours of pushing w/out drugs and a 9 lb baby later with O, you think you would build some sort of pain tolerance, but no, not so.

So I am glad M took the afternoon off of work yet again and took me to the doctor's - and he was in the room during all of that mess. I was draped but he said he still felt nauseous and week kneed by it all. Yeah, me too! But then we went and got cheap, greasy Chinese food and the wonton soup worked some magic to soothe me. Then M took the boys to the pool and then my ILs took them to RJ Gators for dinner. So I had a very quiet afternoon and evening. It's been nice, but part of me missed them! They heal me more than anything.

But all that pain was worth it. The bleeding is so light now, the cramping is light. I feel good. And have thankfully avoided using the evilness called cytotec that the OB prescribed to help my uterus contract more if need be. So glad I did not take that.

Let's hope things stay calm tomorrow. And the rest of the week at least!

I am tired, I want this to be over. More graphic posting. This is like the heaviest period that would.not.end. Instead of getting lighter it is getting heavier. More clotty. My stomach hurts like the worst menstrual cramps. I know it is my uterus doing its job - contracting, expelling the lining and whatever else there ever was. My uterus was enlarged, thinking there was a pregnancy, so now of course it needs to contract and return to normal. Double whammy of pain. I took some ibuprofen, doesn't seem to be helping yet.

And I still have that nagging nodule of fear in my brain about an ectopic pregnancy. My greatest fear is having some sort of crazy hemorrhage or rupture while I am home alone with the kids. I've worked with A in general about emergencies and how to use the phone and dial 911. But that isn't really something you can test out can you now? And then last night I have to go and watch a freaky TLC program called Extreme Pregnancies - about two ectopic abdominal pregnancies. So freaky I can not even tell you - one so cool where the woman had twins in her uterus and one baby in her abdominal cavity - and they all survived. The other too freaky for words where the woman carried her calcified fetus in her abdominal cavity for 45 years. Too freaky for words.

Anyway, of course the kids are not napping, O is pitching a fit. Which of course is preventing A from napping. We're supposed to go to the pool later with friends, I might just ask my friend Debbie if she'll just take Alec and I'll stay home and rest. With as much rest as Owen will give me!

Anyway, I am going to rest now, despite the shrieks from O's room. I'm a good mom like that :)

I'm healing. I dragged my self to the evilness that is Super Walmart and sent M and the boys off to the fishing department while I immersed myself in the beauty aisles. Since I am not pregnant, I might as well dye my hair. Hair dye. Pretty coppery brown color. Check. I live in Florida. The feet could use some lovin'. Pretty new coral nail polish (all the magazines say it is the in color, so of course I need to have some!) and a scary looking callous razor thing that an online friend swears by for pretty feet. I fear actually using this, but an extra weapon in the house is always good, right? Nail polish and razor = pretty feet. Check. I desperately searched for some body scrub, but Walmart seemed quite lacking in this department, or they were as confused as I was - should it be with the moisturizers? The body bath/soap? The bubble bath? The shampoo? The facial cleansers? Nobody seemed to know. Drat. Still have ugly scaly knees now. But people will be too busy looking at my pretty coppery shiny hair and dazzling coral toes to notice my knees. Right?

So yes, I am pampering myself on the road to healing.

Also, I told my mom last night. I hadn't cried at all yesterday, but then had to go and get all choked up when I told her. Thankfully she didn't cry. Took it rather well, actually so that is good. And I found out that she actually had a miscarriage before my youngest brother, which would have been pregnancy #3 for her as well. And then obviously she went on to have my younger brother. That gave me hope. Some weird gene/coincidence hope I guess. But see, I never would have known that about my mom if this hadn't happened. And I would have been 9 or 10 at the time and I have no memory of ever noticing my mom might have been sad, whatever. I remember being totally floored when they told us they were going to have baby #3, but I remember no time before that, and am sad my mom would have gone through that alone, I know she had friends, but I wish I had known. Though at 9, I could never, ever have known what she was going through.

Anyway, I'm babbling. M has the kids at the pool and they will probably be returning shortly, dripping wet and hungry. I guess I'd better prepare for that onslaught.

Thanks for all the love and support everyone. It means a lot.

The official results of the ultrasound - my uterus is empty. No baby. I was not really prepared for that. I thought I'd get a "the baby stopped growing at XwXd gestation, etc." But there is just no baby. And no placenta. I am sorry if this is a bit graphic, I just really wonder what happened? Did the egg not even attach and it took this long for my body to acknowledge there wasn't a pregnancy? No that can't be it. My HcG levels were normal at 8 weeks. Did the baby die shortly after that and maybe my body reabsorbed it? Maybe it was a blighted ovum. As my doctor says, we'll never really know - was there a baby or not. But of course, in my mind there was. And in terms of emotional healing, that is all that really matters. I would have been 11 weeks today and that is an awful lot of baby planning emotion to heal.

And then for even more excitement, because my uterus was empty, but I had obviously been pregnant b/c of previous blood test, I had to go in for more bloodwork to make sure the HcG really was going down and it wasn't actually an ectopic pregnancy. Because to my doctor, pregnant and empty uterus could mean there is a fetus elsewhere in my body. Makes sense. Scary sense. So another long, long afternoon of waiting for the doctor's office to call me back with the blood results. Finally, I hear. My HcG fell from 20,000 at 8 weeks to 5000 today. Indicative of miscarriage. I miscarried my baby.

Now I have to tell my mom. I can deal with my own pain, dealing with someone else's, especially my mom's, is just too hard.

My baby was due on December 22nd. I can't even imagine being celebratory this year. Despite being a mom, despite having had 2 pregnancies before, I never fully realized the depth of the loss you would feel when you miscarry a baby. It kind of knocks the wind out of me. I want to call all of my girlfriends who have had miscarriages before, and just say oh my God. I am so sorry. I never knew.

I have amazing support from friends far away and nearby. Two of my mom friends here have had miscarriages and I love them both for sharing their different experiences with me, one in graphic detail so I could know what to expect. My sweet husband, who is sad too and who had finally embraced the fact of three children, took the afternoon off of work, took me to my bloodwork and then took me and the boys out to lunch. He then took the afternoon off of work and we both climbed into bed, watched bad soap operas (Die Spencer! Live Todd!), surfed the net and snuggled while the boys napped. I couldn't ask for more from my friends or my husband. Now I need to call my mom. And I need to return all of my MIL's calls - I love her, but I just couldn't talk to her about it - and today is her birthday, who needs news like this on your birthday.

I am looking forward to an incredibly lazy weekend, enjoying my little family and reflecting on why this happened, what it means, and what we will take from this experience. Because even though I am a slacker Catholic, I believe everything happens for a reason. And I know already it has increased my appreciation for my boys, for the ease of their conceptions and pregnancies - I have no idea how women have gone through miscarriages multiple times. My heart aches for all of them.

The phone lines at my OB's office are out of order and currently under service. I kept calling and calling and getting a weird signal so I finally called the operator. Unbelievable. And I am just trying to find out info. What about the poor women who are in a current emergant or labor situation! So no news until tomorrow. The wait doesn't even bother me at this point, as the day goes on, it seems more and more obvious to me what is going on :(

Today is June 1st, officially the first day of hurricane season. And after countless, innumerable sunny hot bland days, it is dark and stormy here in Florida. There is thunder and lightning, torrential downpours, gray, gray skies. It's even chilly. The kind of weather where you want to stay inside, make a big quilt fort for the kids and then climb into your bed and read a good book.

Maybe later. But I've already been out in the mucky weather, fighting my way down to the ultrasound. I don't think it went well. Blasted techs never tell you anything, but don't you think if there had been a happy, healthy baby in there she would have turned the monitor towards me and turned on the sound so I could here those blessed "wop wop" noises? I think that is what would have happened, had everyting been OK. But no, there was nothing. Just "Your doctor will call you." I am thinking that not seeing the monitor and the increased spotting that is now bright red are both very bad signs.

I wasn't prepared for this at all. Not even on my radar. I was keeping it together rather well until a freaking wood stork flew over my car on the way home. A stork. The irony was not lost on me.

So I stopped at my favorite local bakery and ordered 2 chocolate croissants (Linnie, I miss you!), 2 sticky pecan rolls, and 2 scones. O helped me with the chocolate croissants, and I'm going to start on the sticky rolls soon. I'm all about the comfort.