The Toddler Factor

Silly, silly, Jessica.


Many months ago, Mr. Berg and I debated that idea of getting pregnant again. We were trying to figure out proper timing of life events, how the next pregnancy would go, how I would feel, etc. You know, because we have so much control over these things..... (insert big ass eye roll HERE).

I even remember saying "Well, it can't be that hard. I do pregnancy well."


HA!

HA! HA! HA!


hahahaahhahahahahahahahaaa!

Idiot!

Silly, silly, silly, girl. 

No one accounted for the toddler factor.

You know, the part where you're exhausted but you can't sit down, you have to chase the toddler.

Slightly nauseous and needing a moment to debate puking or not.
No time, toddler needs breakfast.

Need 8 hours of solid sleep to feel human. Not a chance, the toddler is awake ungodly early or in the middle of the night just because.

The toddler factor.

The reason why the 1st Trimester Struggle is ever so real......

Dear Baby Berg- The Week 7 Letter

Hello There Little Baby-

You are only 7 weeks along and already I have terrible mother's guilt about you. Life has been so chaotic and busy lately. I have hardly had time to worry about you, obsess about you or spend my time day dreaming about you. Don't get me wrong, I am so thrilled you are here, I just wish I had more time to dedicate to just you. I know, what a terrible way to start a letter to you, right? I have a feeling that you'll get even shortly after your arrival. Infants have a way of making life all about them, all the time. I doubt you'll be no exception.

Baby Berg, so far, you have been a very easy going, laid back kiddo. Aside from making me really, really tired, all the time, you barely make your presence known. This is probably a trait consistent with many a second born. Mostly it makes me smile. I'll be running around through my day at warp speed and suddenly stop to wonder why I feel so tired or what I'm suddenly so dizzy. It's then I remember, you're in my belly! I'm pregnant!

I am so excited to get to know you, learn about you, grow you, and be your Mama. You are a dream come true. A blessing beyond measure.

I love you sweet pea!

Mama

7 Week Update

When I did these surveys in my first pregnancy, I did them because I thought they were fun. I never realized how much of a reference they would be for my second pregnancy. It seems like every day I'm checking back on prior weeks and comparing how I'm feeling now to how I was feeling then.

Here goes.....


How big is baby?: The baby is the size of a blueberry.
Stretch marks?:  Nothing new....
Maternity clothes?: Not yet, but something tells me I'll be in them a heck of a lot earlier this time.
Sleep: I can never get enough. I'm having lots of vivid and crazy 1st trimester dreams too.
Best moment this week: Starting to feel like I'm pregnant instead of just tired. Granted, it's because I've got waves of nausea but still.
Movement: Nothing yet.
Food cravings: Ehhhh. Food is so not appealing right now. It doesn't make me sick, I'm just not interested in eating it.
Gender: 90% of the time this pregnancy is really similar to my last which makes me think boy. 
Labor Signs: Nope
Belly Button in or out?: In, way, way, way in
What I miss: Wine, feeling hungry and actually wanting to eat

What I am looking forward to: First appointment is a week from Monday. Yay!

The Curse of the Wine Festival or Whoops, We Did It Again!

Three years ago Mr. Berg and I attended a wine festival with our friends. We bought 2.5 cases of wine, went home and promptly got pregnant with Ryan. In fact, the second sentence out of Mr. Berg's mouth when he found out we were pregnant was "But I just bought you all that wine!"

Whoops.

Fast Forward to the these year's wine festival. We did our typically tasting at our favorite vendor's tent. I placed my order with Mr. Berg and went about my business tending to our toddler and visiting with our friends (read: drink lots of wine, eat and laugh).  Shortly thereafter, Mr. Berg returns to our group and says "You better not get pregnant, I just bought you another 2 cases of wine."

It was then I started doing some mental math. While, mental math is had never been my strong suit, I was pretty sure something that could happen that day that hadn't.

I didn't give the idea too much thought. I've never had perfect cycles. I average anywhere from 35 to 45 days any given cycle so seeing that it was only day 29 wasn't even slightly alarming.

The next morning we woke up and made the 5 hour trip home. Mr. Berg made a couple comments about me possibly being pregnant and each time I brushed him off saying "it's too early to test."

Yet, somehow, a few hours after we pulled in the driveway I found myself sitting in my bathroom and smiling at the stick in my hand.

Whoops, we did it again!


Sorry about all that wine, Kid.


So, once again, I have a lot of wine I can't drink, and I'm pretty freaking excited about all that the future holds

Baby Berg Jr. is due in late May, making me almost 7 weeks along. 

Rebel

Rebel......

That's what my best friend called me today when I posted on the facebook that I was wearing white pants after Labor Day. In my defense, it's only one day after Labor Day and it's probably 98 degrees out there already. Plus, I lived in the south for 10 years and no one follows that stupid rule down there anyway. So there! White pants for the win.

Just wait until tomorrow, more white pants!!


So, you're probably wondering where I've been? I don't really have a specific answer other then, around. There are5 drafted posts in my box that I never published. Most of it was mindless dribble. I also noticed that most recently Dead Grandma posts were some of the most popular posts I've written in a while. That or it's just because they are the most recent and people kept coming back wondering "where did she go?" "is she hanging from a shower rod somewhere?"

No, no.

Nothing like that.

I had to work through some stuff, without the help of the internet and frankly, I've been busy.


In the past several weeks I have:

-Battled laryngitis so badly I needed steroids  (and I actually took my doctor's advice when he told me to stay home from work)  (( as in something I never do))

- Attended one really long, really overdone funeral

- Spent 7 days in Hilton Head with my family

-Celebrated Labor Day with my family

- Got my period, still not pregnant

- Ate everything in sight

-Worked out not a single day (my white pants are almost not fitting)

- Attended a million meetings, did a million loads of laundry, spent my time trying to unearth my desk only to loose it in the shuffle again

-Hired some awesome new employees

-Gave another the opportunity to explore to career opportunities.

- Drank a lot of beer and wine... always wine

- Worked a lot, we are hitting busy season and busy we are


All in all, life is just fine. I miss this little place in the blogasphere... I'm just not sure where to take it.

Mostly, I feel like I'm in limbo. Not really trying to be as fit as I can be, not really trying to drop any weight, waiting to become a Mom again but knowing that can take a long while. While I'm happy to live in the here and now, I'm not really sure what to make of it.
I'm having trouble deciding who I want to be when I grow up, I guess.

Closure of Sorts

My grandmother passed away on Wednesday morning. I think I speak for everyone in my entire family when I say thank goodness its over. She was in one of those worst case situations they don't talk about on TV much. She had a stroke 10 days earlier. She was kept very comfortable in a very nice hospice center, just waiting on her time to be called home. 

Now our family is in limbo as we wait for her funeral, which won't be happening until next Wednesday.......

(insert long story here)


{short story- someone had to go on vacation}


[Nope, not kidding]


While we were not close and there is a blank space on the emotional shelf where feelings for your paternal grandma should be, I am still feeling her loss. I know she didn't intent for our relationship to be what it was. I know deep down that she cared deeply for her family, she was proud of my brother and I and she..... well, she tried. She just wasn't the loving, caring, warm Grandma everyone hopes for.

Her loss is felt every day in my office (yes, we worked together). I had grown used to seeing her white headed self, sitting at her desk, often writing out a card or thumbing through a supplies catalog. While her responsibilities grew less and less as time went on, she was always a professional, always dressed to the 9's.

It's hard to listen to co-workers offer their comfort and kind phrases. They are all words you want to be said when a loved on died. They just aren't fitting for us.

Stranger yet, our office equipment dealer sent a huge basket for baked goods to our office. While we certainly appreciate the sentiment, I can't help but classify the delivery as "Sorry your Grandma died cookies."  Worst yet, my job is the monitor the basket and clean up the remains.... How fitting....

None the less, I find that my brain is working overtime trying to put the pieces of this strange situation in place. My heart is trying to heal old wounds and find peace in long buried hurt for a relationship I'd define as strange at best. 

As condolences pour in, I find myself saying over and over again... she was a one of kind, Grandma. There isn't much more I can say other then that.

Strange Guilt

On Saturday morning, the only woman I ever knew as "Grandma", went into the hospital for shortness of breathe and dizziness. Doctor's ran a series of tests and couldn't find anything seriously wrong other then her electrolytes seemed off. She was kept overnight and plans were made for most tests on Monday.

She never made it to those tests. Instead, she collapsed in the hospital on Sunday night and was air lifted to a more comprehensive hospital near by. I was standing in my yard as the helicopter carrying her flew overhead.  I remember watching the blue helicopter disappear over the tree line as I said a quick prayer for everyone on board.

Later we learned that she suffered a stroke and lost all brain function on one side. She was removed from life support and now we are waiting for her to be called home.


While, I've known her as Grandma for 31 years, the truth is, my Grandma died 47 years ago. I never knew her.

My Grandpa's second wife is a nice woman. She remembers birthdays, anniversaries and special occasions. She treated me no differently then she'd treat anyone she met. We didn't have a special relationship. We didn't do your typical Grandma/Granddaughter stuff. My most vivid memory of her as a child is when I invited her to Grandparents Days in third grade. All the students made kites to fly with their special guests. She told me I made my kite wrong and corrected several of my other classmates for various infractions. The next day my dad brought home a thank you note she wrote me. It confused me. Why thank someone for an event you didn't really seem to enjoy?

We never shared a private joke or a public one for that matter. She didn't come visit Ryan when he was born. When she met him, at 3 months old, she didn't want to touch him for fear he had germ. As the months went on, she would ask about him from time to time, but she never made over him or asked when I would bring him by again. She spent most of my pregnancy telling me my belly wasn't big enough and thus something must be wrong.

She thought it was strange when Mr. Berg changed jobs, even though the change meant more money and more quality time at home. 

So needless to say, I'm feeling rather conflicted. While I am sad she's dying, my sadness is more for the people closest to her. I'm sorry for her biological children. I'm sorry for my dad and his siblings that she adopted when she married my Grandpa. They are now losing a third parent.

I'm sad her death hasn't been quick. I'm sad for aftermath of death is about to bring us.

But my sadness seems to end there. Thus, my issue with this strange feeling of guilt. I didn't really have much of a relationship with her. I didn't really ever know how to interact with her in life. I'm having trouble understanding my emotions around her death. 

Thus, strange guilt. I wish I knew what to do with it.