Yup, my oven works.

Meaning there's a bun in it (for those who didn't catch the "morning sickness" reference in the last post). As of tomorrow I will be 9 wks, with only 4-5 more to go before I can begin to feel normal (well, pregnancy normal)!! Hooray! That means little bun will be ready to be nibbled (food references weirding anyone out yet?) mid-June. At the moment I am tremendously excited about two things: 1. I am going in for acupuncture next week to relieve my nausea, and 2. a week from Monday I have my first appointment with my midwives!! For any who weren't along for the ride when I was pregnant with Morgan, I am completely in love with my midwives. They are fantastically wonderful, compassionate, sensitive women who give their clients the respect, care, expertise and love that we deserve. Both of my children's births were wonderful and unforgettable, but Morgan's was transformative in none but positive ways. After Garrett was born (in a hospital, with an on-call OB I'd never met), I was determined that my next would be better--not that anything went "wrong" but there were things that weren't right, either. Like the nurse trying to talk me into an epidural I told her I didn't want, or his cord being cut before I'd even held him, or the caregivers being strangers, or the bright lights, absence of noise, sterility of the environment, etc. With Morgan there was no compromising, no coercion, I was not at the mercy of the all-powerful doctor. What I wanted, I got. And she was born into warm water, and soft music, dim lights and candles, in a room full of people who already knew and loved her (insert plug for the Puget Sound Birth Center and Lake Washington Midwives here). I was completely in charge and delivered her according to the cues of my body, with no damage to her or to me (a claim most hospital births cannot make).
I know I go on about my experiences quite a lot, but how can I not when they had such an impact on my life? I have no fear about birth--I have nothing but excitement and anticipation and I can't wait to see my lovely ladies and get the process started!
Garrett and Morgan are very excited as well, Garrett keeps asking me technical questions (how big is the baby today? Is the baby eating what you're eating?), and Morgan walks around with her shirt pulled up and her belly pushed out showing everyone HER baby. Which I find very interesting as my belly isn't growing yet, but still she knows to make hers look big. She's only really caught on to what's happening in the last week or so. Even when she was jumping up and down in the restaurant booth shouting "We're having a baby! We're having a baby!" to my mother-in-law (who totally didn't get it, even though she said it about ten times-MIL decided she was telling her "thank you"), she apparently didn' t hear what she was saying but merely repeated what Daddy told her to say.
And Troy is getting excited, also. He was kind of stunned there for awhile (even though he was sort of involved in the planning stages), but is remembering that getting ready for a baby is fun, and teasing me when I'm pregnant is even funn-er. His favorite part is getting to eat whatever he wants--see, I become very auto-suggestive. I might not have specific cravings, but if I see, read about, or hear about specific foods I suddenly have an overwhelming desire to eat that food. Troy abuses this aspect of my pregnancies. We ate a lot of pizza and cheeseburgers in my previous pregnancies (except this time I can't have gluten!! So HAHAHA devious husband!).
So there you have it, baby number three. If anyone is reading this and is totally stunned and wondering why I didn't call you personally, I completely apologize--we've had so much going on and I've been feeling so lousy that I can't even remember who knows and who doesn't. So it was either this or calling everyone we know with a lame "so, have we told you anything important lately? No? Well, guess what!"

It's cold up here.

So somewhere in the last 30 days it became winter in the Pacific Northwest, which basically means it is very, very wet. And cold. Not freezing, but there is a distinctive nip in the air. This is not a complaint, I love fall and we were actually quite lucky through October, having a long streak of gorgeous, sunny fall days. The reason I bring all this up is that the second floor of our very old house is maybe not so well insulated, and since we don't sleep up here maybe not always habitated--meaning it can be cold. And it's where we keep the computer. So if I don't feel like getting frostbite in my fingers I might avoid getting online for days at a time. I suppose it's good that I have phone's then, so that my devoted fan base can still contact me.
This is my long-winded way of explaining my prolonged absence from the blogosphere. That and I was in CA for a week and a half, and my mom came home with us, and we've been busy doing things much more interesting and entertaining than typing. Sorry. I do intend to post pics from our trip and Halloween (our costumes where AWESOME) when I finally get 'round to uploading them.
Mostly right now I want to address current events. For the second consecutive time in a presidential campaign, I cried on election night. Four years ago I cried tears of despair, anger, and frustration-I lamented the simple fact that my baby would be five years old before we would throw off the shackles that I felt binding us. This past Tuesday I cried for very different reasons--it was like a shell had been built around me, a shell of mud, layer after layer sealing me in through the eight years of chaos and discord our nation has endured. And Tuesday night that shell cracked. Peices fell away, and I could see clearly that there really is a new path. The power felt that night, an uprising of voices held silent for so long, was overwhelming. Cars honking, people yelling as they drove, sharing celebration with strangers just because they could. That night there was a spontaneous gathering of thousands of people in the streets of Seattle, people who might never have met otherwise, needing to validate their own euphoria--being pulled together for joy and hope. Together. When was the last time we stood together? A time that didn't involve sorrow and disaster? A time that, purely and simply, made us glad to be who we are--made us proud.
I know there are those who do not share my sentiments, and to you I am sorry. I am sorry you can't see what the rest of the world sees, and am sorry you fear for yourself rather than reveling in the salvation of others. I hope that as the next four years pass, and the mood of our nation lifts, that you feel it and acknowledge the many reasons that mood sank so low to begin with. And I hope that our memories are long and that we give our country adequate time to heal before we decide we don't need fixing anymore.
And lastly, to those of you so engrossed the in Twilight series, I've spent considerable time in Port Angeles over the last 12 years. I've been into the bookstore she described as too "hippy" (it's mostly travel books, gifts and souvenieres with some comics-Troy lived in there when he was growing up), I've walked every downtown street--I've eaten in La Bella Italia. There is no area with warehouses and loading docks all in a row, no shiny boardwalk, no seedy bar right near the McDonald's. Apparently she got her info from map websites and the PA tourism board website. Kinda spoiled the illusion for me. And you wouldn't make a day trip from Forks to Seattle. It's a four-hour drive each way (with someone other than Edward driving). And while she is a good writer, very engaging and all (and I might be run out of town on a rail for saying this), upon finishing the first book I couldn't figure what the hoopla was about. I enjoyed it, but didn't feel my life had been changed and honestly, the only reason I read it in two days was because I kept trying to get to where the plot started. Not to be dismissive I did go out and get New Moon--I'm not very far into it but can see it's already more intriguing, so maybe the plotlines will improve now that characters are established.
And may I suggest to those of you drawn to the alllure of the vampire, pick up the Sookie Stackhouse series by Charlaine Harris. Fun, intense, and they get to have sex (I'm not LDS, I didn't buy Edward being able to hold back). Her writing is not as pretty as Stephanie Meyers, but the characters are great and the story makes up for it.
Wow. What an all-over the place post. If I though I could put off doing laundry any longer, I'd tell you all about our adventure in Disneyland. Or Garrett's and my birthday party. Or how horribley morning-sick I've been ;).