I had my first ultrasound last week at 10+ weeks. I wasn’t very excited about it for whatever reason, but my mom was very excited to see it, so I let her come with me. I think she was glad to be there ultimately, though the pictures revealed bad news. It turns out that I had a missed miscarriage. Though I was 10+ weeks, the embryo was measuring at just 7+ with no heartbeat. Naturally, I’m disappointed. But emotionally, I’m fine. Since most miscarriages in the first trimester are due to a chromosomal abnormality, I feel there was never a chance for our latest bundle of cells to become a baby. So I guess I don’t really feel like we’ve suffered a loss.

I opted to have a surgical procedure called a D&C two days after the ultrasound. For me, it was a good choice. It was quick, painless, and I’m not walking on eggshells anymore. We have to wait a few months before we can think about getting pregnant again, so I’m using this time wisely. We made plans to take the boys to Cedar Point for their birthday in June now that I can ride with them again. I’m focused on getting my body back to a comfortable summer size. And I’m considering raising a couple of hens, even though we still don’t know whether or not we’ll have to move. So, you know, life goes on.

I know I shouldn’t compare my kids to other kids, but sometimes, I can’t help it. Usually, when my comparisons lead to me feeling inadequate as a mother, I’m not comparing to a real kid, but the way I imagine other kids to be. We struggle with the boys being extremely picky eaters. Granted, it’s totally my fault they’re so picky, but I keep hoping they’ll outgrow it on their own. So far, it’s not working. But my imagination tells me that other kids must be eating more meats and vegetables at dinner because their parents were smart enough to not offer them any other choices early on.

When my comparisons lead me to feeling superior, it’s because I’m picking out the worst traits in certain kids and patting myself on the back for raising my boys better than that. And really, that’s not a healthy attitude to adopt either. However, please allow me this moment of indulgence to brag just a little.

Yes, my boys are extremely picky eaters. Getting them to eat enough vegetables is a struggle, and getting them to take medication for fever or pain is completely out of the question. But there is an upside to their pickiness. By choice, they drink only water, milk, orange juice, and rarely apple juice or cider. They dislike lunchmeat and nearly every cut of beef. They do not eat things like ketchup, salad dressing, salt, and sour cream. They will only eat whole grain wheat bread. They are very lean and strong for their height. So the pickiness isn’t always a bad thing.

One other thing we work on is their manners. I feel like I’m constantly reminding them to say please and to hold a door for people. But they’re extremely generous and sincere with their thank-yous. Often, the thank-yous are accompanied by huge smiles, big hugs, and a little bit of jumping up and down. They’ve been known to be so distracted by a gift (even something as boring as clothes!) that they’ve forgotton other gifts waiting to be unwrapped. They are a stark contrast to what I experienced at a neighbor boy’s birthday party last week. The kid was downright snotty to his mom about opening his gifts, and I never once saw even a flicker of a smile for any gift he received. Just more proof that I rock for not trying to buy my kids’ love and destroying their happiness in the process.

I have that itch to create again. How many times have we been through this already? Every time it returns, I go through the motions of making something, but I’m never quite convinced that I’ve done whatever it was I was trying to do.

I’d really like to work in clay again. I feel like things were finally clicking for me when I finished up my last ceramics class. I’d really like to explore working in metals again too. And printmaking has always interested me, but I never ended up taking a class in it for some reason. I think the pattern here is that I enjoy working in a classroom environment. Maybe I need the deadlines and specific goals that are created by instructors. Maybe I need the comaraderie of like-minded people. Hmm. I wonder if that is the real reason I enjoy college so much.

Unfortunately, going back to college (or even enrolling in a single class) is just not possible right now. If choosing to homeschool, having another baby, and a lack of finances aren’t confining enough, there’s the anticipated move to Ohio/Missouri/Montana/Texas. I’m really going to have to get thinking if I want to scratch this itch.

We would probably order our baby chicks right about now, but we’ve decided to hold off on raising chickens this year for a couple of reasons. For one, it seems unlikely that I’ll be interested in maintaining full responsibilty for the chickens once the new baby arrives. I’m sure I could find a volunteer for the fall, but when winter comes, it’s safe to bet the responsibility would fall back to me.

The other reason we’re holding off on the chickens is Rob’s job. We still don’t know if we’re going to have to relocate, and if we do relocate, we don’t know where it will be. We’re looking at no less than four other states right now ranging from “might be nice” to “wouldn’t be too bad” to “bearable” to “no”. We’re hoping to have some sort of answer within the next month or so. Rob’s feeling is that it’s likely we’ll be moving this fall. We’ll have to wait and see before figuring out the logistics of having a baby during a move.

On Wednesday morning, we sent the dogs away, packed up the boys, and headed to the Great Wolf Lodge in Sandusky, Ohio for a few days. We didn’t tell the boys where we were taking them, but they figured it out when they saw the water tubes sticking out of the log building. A good time was had by all, however, it would have been slightly more enjoyable for me if my morning sickness hadn’t kicked in this week.

I haven’t been sick yet, but I’m experiencing queasiness resembling motion-sickness that lasts from about 11:00 am until 7:00 pm. Ick. The queasiness combined with being unable to get warm and the relentless fatigue makes me feel more flu-like than pregnant. It’s a big difference from my first pregnancy, which was a breeze.