Shh, I'm Growing a 30 Pound Baby

This is the part of pregnancy I never really believed would come. I have been feeling oh-so-cute and cuddly-adorable... until now. I never realized that after nine months of pregnancy I would still have a few more weeks to grow. And grow, I do. It's gross, really. I am almost 37 weeks along, which should equal nine months, if you divide by four weeks, and I still have about three weeks left to grow. Yuck.

Last Friday, I went on my now-weekly doctor appointment and was appalled to view a large number on the scale. I was careful to only have light food before my 1 o'clock appointment; some oatmeal, some yogurt, a banana. I was saving my lunch for after my appointment, to be sure I didn't weigh extra because of it. Well, lo and behold, I saw a rather eery red number on the digital scale. Yup, 190. I am ten pounds shy of 200 pounds. That has to be some sort of cruel joke. I swore the nurses were playing a trick on me. Nope, they weren't. I'm just growing.

I have read in a few books that this is the time frame in pregnancy where the mom will stop growing so much. I guess we just run out of room in our stomachs for food because of the ever-plumping baby. I don't know if that's a fact for me yet, but I do know that breathing has been more of a deliberate event than it was previously. I struggle to gain a full breath and feel a bit asthmatic lately. It's rather uncomfortable. I guess that goes with the territory as well.

Supposedly first-time mommies can feel a "drop" when the baby starts to descend into the pelvic area. I'm still waiting for that. I want to breathe again!! It's really kinda fun to feel every thump (and I do mean thump, there is nothing butterfly-like about Brady's movements now) and know that he could be born and survive. At 37 weeks, he will officially be a full-term baby. I will be 37 weeks this Saturday. Just a few more days. Kyle and I have been walking about with goofy grins on our faces. Every twinge I get, I sit and wait to see if it might be a contraction. I tell him when I feel more pressure on my pelvic floor. If I make any weird sounds in the bathroom, Kyle will inquire if my water broke. Ha! I know it's wishful thinking that Brady will come earlier than later, but I have reason to believe that I am not alone. Most new moms wish and hope that their whale-existence is over after they reach the full-term mark.

Kyle and I tried to reflect on what it was like for me to be around without being so a-round. We can't remember me without a belly. That's how long this pregnancy has seemed. I know it will be over soon, and that gives me great relief. I just wonder when. It feels like Christmas is just around the bend. We don't know what date Santa will drop in to bring our presents, but we do know he is coming and he will have the best gift ever!

So enough of being mushy about our baby. Let's get to the real deal. Pregnancy after nine months is cruel. It's cruel to look forward to being nine months pregnant and still having a few weeks to go until the baby is born. It's mean to feel like this is really never going to end. I count down the days like the date will be unchangeable. I've learned from friends and family that the due date isn't in stone. So to have a countdown to a date that might not be a reality is really just setting myself up for disappointment. I just have a feeling he will come a week late. Just because he is his mother's son.

I don't fit in any of my maternity clothes. I look like a fat girl trying to fit in her little sister's clothes. It's not pretty. People approach me with apprehension that the buttons on my shirt will fly off and cause optical injury. I get the "you look like you're gonna pop" exclamation a bit more than I would like, as I know I look that way. I feel that way. Can my skin get any tighter?? Can my veins be any more pronounced on my belly? It looks like a road map through the Northeast.

Ever since my doctor told me might weight gain has been on par and really good, I regret to admit that I took it as a license to eat. I think my total weight gain has been about 36 pounds or so. Maybe more or less, as I didn't record my starting weight. I think I'm on my way to at least 40 pounds. Which I know isn't a horrible weight gain. I guess I am just tired of gaining weight. I want the baby to come out so I can begin losing weight again. I want to be able to suck in my belly and actually see it go in. I joke that I should go to a gym and request a personal trainer to help with my growing belly that won't go down. Pretend that I don't believe I am pregnant. That should be a hidden camera scenario. Yup. I'm sick in the head.

I had my strep B test (I think that's what it's called?) the other week. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I was more afraid to get naked again, as I hadn't in months since my first prenatal exam. My buddy and I joked that we didn't want the doctor to go to our butt first then our vajajay. So we chanted "no contaminay the vajajay" before my appointment for good measure. Luckily that was painless and quick. I don't believe I have any more tests before the due date. That's just wonderful news. I asked about when they start to measure for dilation and the doctor said they start around 38 weeks. I was kinda hoping he would have started at the 36 week visit so I could be "pleasantly surprised" that I had started dilating. But, again, wishful thinking. I've got to stop that.

I had some Braxton Hicks contractions yesterday morning. They were mildly painful and I did wonder how long they would last. I think the total length of discomfort was about two minutes. I wondered if we would luck out to have a St. Patty's Day baby (wishful thinking). But then, the tightening in my stomach was over about as quick as it began. Part of me was relieved that it was just practice, and another part was a little bummed it wasn't THE day.

If anything, it did inspire me to pack my overnight hospital bag. It's pretty sad that all I have in it so far, is a camcorder with a new DVD, some grannie panties, new spare toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and my camera battery charger. Yeah, I'm not ready. But there are things that I would want to bring that I use on a daily basis. So, that's my practical side saying that I can't get too ready. Besides, I live just ten to fifteen minutes from the hospital. Kyle will have to go home to feed and let out Monkey while we are at the hospital anyway. He can get my mascara then.

So, while my baby probably is planning on being on time or even late, I will sit here and feel sorry for my ever-growing self. I will just plop on any surface than can hold my weight and wish away the end of this pregnancy. I am so excited to meet him, and I am trying to hold back my wishful thinking he will show early. I know that God has a plan and I will just sit back and wait. I will just tell myself that I am growing a thirty pound baby, and that is why I'm gaining so much weight. And I look forward to the new boobs I've been promised since the day I realized that the day God said "breasts", I thought he said "rest", and sat on a curb and waited.

Can No Longer Hover 'Round

Everyday I am more in awe of the fact that I am going to really be a mother. Sitting at my desk right now, I really feel so ordinary. Then I feel a swish of movement above my hips in my belly and I remember, I am making a human. It still blows me away. Sometimes I will tap my stomach and feel a slight tap back. It's so crazy to me. There are even instances where Brady will haul off and kick my hand hard. If that's even his foot. It's so mind boggling.

At this moment, I really feel like just me. I barely notice my belly. I have to touch it sometimes to remember it's there. Other days, my back aches, or I get a Braxton Hicks contraction, and I remember, yup, it's gonna happen. I'm going to have a baby.

Last year, in July, I found out I was pregnant. It's now a quarter of the way through 2009 and I'm still pregnant. I guess when it feels like I've been pregnant forever, the 2008 and 2009 dates make it seem no less.

I am starting to grow out of my maternity clothes. I remember looking at those outfits in Motherhood and Target and thinking, "wow, I will never get that big". Now, my basketball looks a little bit over inflated and bigger shirts are snug and clingy. I only have one pair of jeans that are comfy (the others seem to dig right into my belly). My work pants all still fit, which is great, but I want to be able to lounge in comfort!! So I bought a pair of cargo pants yesterday from Motherhood. I had a leftover gift certificate, so I used it. I glanced at capris with sadness that I probably won't wear a pair again until after Brady is born. Luckily, a friend reassured me she got her ankles back within a day or so after giving birth. I'm trying to keep these puppies hidden as long as I can. It's inhumane to subject strangers to looking at them!

Just a little over four weeks to go and this "practice" event will be a reality. I will have a baby. It's so surreal to me. My "license to eat" should be revoked soon.. But it's so hard. I'm hungry all the time! Then I get heartburn. Must be punishment for indulging in so many McFlurries!

We went to Taco Bell this past weekend for lunch. Taco Bell is my favorite place. Take me there over any five star restaurant and I would be satisfied. Luckily the TBell we went to was not in my town, or I would have had to rethink that thought. We were about two hours north of home, to take a river tour with Kyle's brother Jakey, and Cuz. We stopped at TBell for some lunch. Granted, I wasn't wearing a very form-fitting shirt... but the cashier asked me when I was due. I told her, "in five weeks". She said, "WOW!! YOU'RE BIG!!". You should have seen her face! It was like she was in utter shock and exclaimed like I told her I was growing 8 babies like the infamous Octomom. So, I did what any self-respecting pregger would do, I thanked her. Then I stammered and tried to calm myself before I turned into a beet. Kyle wanted me to tell her that in five weeks I will be skinny again, she will still have a mustache. But I was not "on my feet" at that moment. So we proceeded to find a booth to eat our lunch. Feeling quite chubby, I slid, er, rather, tried to slide, myself in a booth. I crammed my belly into that booth and started to wonder how the heck anyone bigger than average can eat there! Apparently we found the only misshapen booth in the place. It must've been made for little people.. Kyle moved across the way and I followed and felt relieved to find breathing room. Yup, just another example of how wonderful it is to be 35 weeks pregnant and growing.

Another fun fact about the end of pregnancy; well, besides the blueberry-sized hemorrhoids that hang out, of course, is the lack of ability to hover. I can hover no more. I try so hard to hover over a public toilet and fall down. It's not pretty. I'm top-heavy now and wobbly. I've discovered that when I went to pick up something I dropped in the parking garage the other day. I leaned over like any normal person would do and found myself teetering off my hands to push myself back up before I completely spilled out onto the ground. My mission was always to touch as little landscape in a public restroom as possible. Now, I just check to be sure it is clean before I plop down on the seat. I have no choice. Besides, aren't there studies that prove public toilets are cleaner than desk keyboards? That's my defense, and I'm sticking to it!

What's in Your Wallet?

I recently emailed the White House regarding a letter we got from Capital One. I was so ticked off, I had to write to somebody. I just can't believe that the government is allowing these companies (that the American people have been bailing out with our future taxes) to arbitrarily raise our rates on us without cause. It's ridiculous how the American people are getting the shaft while the rich banks and car manufacturers are living high off the hog with their private jets and lavish parties.

This is the quick comment I wrote to the White House www.whitehouse.gov:

"My husband and I have been long term customers of Capital One. We have never been late on a payment and have earned the low interest rate of 6%. Just the other day we got a notice that our interest rates are going up to 15% because of "extraordinary changes in the economic environment". I don't see how the economy has anything to do with our standing as a customer.

Maybe they can cut back on their "what's in your wallet" ads, because after they are done with the American people, there won't be too much left."

This is a sign of our times right now. I sure hope President Obama will do his best to remember that the "little" guys need as much or more help than the big guys in the fancy cars and million dollar homes.

Yabba Dabba Do I Love You

While chatting around the coffee table in Cuz's living room this weekend, we reminisced about Riley and how much we missed him. It has been just a couple of weeks since we had to let him go and we really needed to vent about it. It still hurts our hearts to think of life without him. It really feels like we lost a very important family member. Tears were flowing, sniffles were coming... it was a very emotional time for Kyle, Cuz and me. We thought of fun times and goofy times; Cuz thought of when she had to let her sick dog go a while back and how thinking about it still gets her choked up. I think it was really important for Kyle to talk about what he experienced. He was with Riley for his last breath and I really hadn't heard how it affected him until this past weekend. It's a really difficult thing to live through and I'm still very grateful that our boy at least had him by his side. I would still be wracked with even more guilt if I knew he was just left at the vet's office on "death row". Kyle said he would have barricaded me in the house if I even thought about going with him for that. He was very protective of me, and I really appreciate it.

Needless to say, with tears flowing, tissues were not keeping up. Just when we were starting to ease up on the crying, Kyle grimaced as he bellowed, "look at your feet!!!!". Startled, I first looked at Cuz, but she was wearing shoes. I realized he was shocked to see my bare feet. I was awestruck by my bloated feet when I glanced at them. I was bewildered and baffled at how fat my feet had gotten. I started to reflect on the night out and could remember that my feet did feel a little tight... but Shrek sized??? I had no idea!!

My feet looked like they had ballooned into mini clubs!! I had club-feet.. and not hot-club feet, but nubby club... Gross, Yabba-Dabba-Do feet. I couldn't believe it!! I had always heard that pregnancy can cause feet to swell with water retention, but this was crazy! Was I retaining the Gulf of Mexico??

Six weeks left of my pregnancy and I get to learn first hand, that I can never fully grasp anything again for a while, with my banana hands. I won't be able to wear real shoes again for a a month or so more with my Man feet. It's incredible how at one moment, I can feel so cute and pregnant.. Then the next minute, I'm fat hand/foot lady and feel like the Goodyear blimp. It's amazing. So, after a good cry about our lost loved ones, we laughed so hard at my ginormous feet that not only were tears spilling, but the snot was flowing. It was a messy sight, I'll tell you. I laughed so hard that my eyes were bloodshot and I couldn't keep enough tissues ready on my lap.

We had a good catharsis this weekend. Got to feel a lot of emotions in just a matter of an hour or so. It was a good release, even if it did mean filling five tissues and I did learn I could Flintstone us home the next day if the car broke down.

Beware the Impending Waddle

Long ago were the days when I could simply suck in my gut to feel skinnier. Long ago were the days when I could look down and see my butterfly tattoo under my belly button. I remember the days when I could easily bend down to shave my legs. It seems like just yesterday I found out I was pregnant. That was in July of last year. Now it's a new year and the second month in... I feel like I've been pregnant for three years.

Just a month ago, I was saying that I don't mind being pregnant. I actually like it. I like the feeling of growing a baby, the shape of my bulging belly, and the attention that being "fruitful" brings. Now, with less than 8 weeks to go, I'm ready to stop feeling so mid-section heavy. I swear my belly leads the way. I've already warned people of the impending doom of my waddle. I'm trying so hard not to walk like a Weeble, but it's getting more and more difficult.

Doctor says I've only gained 28 pounds since the beginning of my pregnancy. I think she's just being nice. She knows the stress I've been under. I kind of wish I had never heard how low my number is, because now I think I subconsciously feel I now have a license to eat. I've been so good for so long... why not get some McDonald's fries?? So what if my butterfly tattoo looks more and more like a great Bald Eagle?? But I must stop myself. I've been blessed with no stretchmarks yet, I want to try to keep it that way.

It still feels so surreal that I'm actually carrying a baby. Some days I feel so average. I forget I'm carrying a baby... Not long enough to order a margarita, but long enough where I think, "dang, man, how much longer?"

We didn't do any birthing classes to get ready for this birth. It was going to cost $40 each to go, and quite frankly, with this economy, that was money we did not have. We've been watching "Baby Story" on TLC to get our knowledge up to speed. Yup, that's a scary show. Just like driving by a horrible car accident. It's so grotesque, but you can't help to rubberneck and look back at it anyway. This show has taught me that birth plans are useless: You never get what you want. Laboring women are handled like birthing cows. Doctors come in the room, barely say hello, shove their hand up the woman's hoo-ha, say how many centimeters, then leave. I just learned that a centimeter is about the width of a tip of a finger. I hope my doctor will have small fingers because I won't start giving birth until 10cm. Holy crap.

"Baby Story" has taught me that a lot of women try so hard to not have any drugs for their birth. I applaud their effort and admire their courage... but it is not for me. Especially when I see most of them "fold" and get the drugs they swore they wouldn't touch. I think that the drugs are here for a reason. I know people gave birth for thousands of years without drugs in our history. They've also had their teeth pulled without Novocaine. You won't catch me trying any of that. At least not this time. There are no extra gold stars in heaven for going through unnecessary pain.

I still can't believe that I'm going to have to give birth. I know that sounds kind of immature and juvenile, but I'm really in denial. I hope we can kinda skip the whole process and just put the baby in my arms. The big day is coming up so fast. I have no idea how to prepare. I'm not prepared. I think that even if we get our overnight bag ready, I have my focal point picked out, the due date is here, I will still be clueless what to do. I just hope that the doctors and nurses can direct me. I'm going to be like a deer caught in the headlights.

I hope to keep the birth lighthearted and try my best not to let any pain get the best of me. But that's a first-time mom with hopes that are highly unlikely. In then end, my birth plan consists of birthing a healthy baby. I don't care how it happens. As long as Brady is placed in my arms and I am doing okay, I don't care at all, how he is born. Until the day he is born, I will just sit here, in denial. Pretend that I just have to take a nap, they get the baby for me, I wake up, and my body is back to being just mine. That would be a nice dream...

My Heart Belongs to Boobies

So, after Xrays, Ultrasounds, blood work, exploratory surgery (as referred to by our main vet to his wife at a specialist clinic... I know, how convenient), Riley seemed to be the picture of health on paper. My original vet, Dr. Matt, could find nothing wrong with our dog. He has no viruses, no cancers, no diseases that he could see in his digestive tract. The only problem with that great diagnosis, is that he's been repeatedly throwing up now for weeks. He will eat, seem fine, then a few minutes to a few hours later, his belly would gurgle and he'd start to get drooly and hiccup. He suggested we try him on special food. He and his wife wanted to confirm it was not an allergy. We really doubted it was an allergy and wanted to just switch him back to the original food he had been eating since he was 8 weeks old. Of course, that would not bring them any income, so they said that wouldn't work and we had to buy a bag of their hypoallgergenic stuff. I imagine it tasted bad because no matter what we did, Riley would not eat it with joy, no matter how hungry he must've been.

We cooked plain white rice to hopefully absorb his stomach acids he must've had. We added chicken broth for flavor. He was not interested in anything other than his own food. There was no improvement in his vomiting, even with the hypoallergenic food and anti-vomit medicine. So, despite doctors' orders we fed him his original food again and discontinued all of his medications. It felt pointless to medicate something they had no diagnosis for. For all we knew, we were medicating something that he didn't have.

We've fed him Pedialyte to keep him hydrated from all of his vomiting, we've studied his bowel movements to look for improvements, I've stayed up all hours of the night to watch him and listen for him. I feel so horrible when he's struggling to not vomit and/or regurgitate. I watch to see if he starts to shake so I can give him some maple syrup for hypoglycemia. I've started to notice Brady's movement patterns have changed a bit. I can't sleep anymore from worry. I pray for him. I cry for him. I sob for him. I feel so helpless. He starts to feel nervous when I go near him as he knows he shouldn't vomit in the house. I never punish him, but it seems to be one of those things where a good housebroken dog feels bad for upsetting the everyday workings of a household.

Frustrated and almost $4000 later, we decide to go for a second opinion. I was referred to a very nice veterinarian, Dr. Stenzel, near my home. Kyle and I bring Riley there for a general opinion. Of course, we had already been to specialists and another vet so he was a little intimated that we went for a second opinion from a general vet. He immediately thought to try a fecal exam. None of our previous vets even thought to do that. Costed just $10, and no one thought to do it. He thought maybe parasites were causing his vomiting. Nothing was found in the stool sample. Then Dr. Stenzel thought to do a barium Xray of his esophagus. Apparently, large breeds can get problems with their throats. I was amazed this was never an option for the specialist or the original vet, Dr. Matt, to try.

We agree to the barium Xray and find out Monday morning that Riley has megaesophagus. Dr. Stenzel showed us the Xrays and we could see that his esophagus was enlarged tremendously. Seems to be that his muscles stopped working in his throat and it became extremely enlarged. He can not swallow his own food. A barium Xray usually has to be done quickly to get accurate results, as it usually flows through the throat and stomach quickly on a healthy dog. Four or five hours later, Riley still had the barium in his throat. Seems that his esophagus does not contract like a regular one does. It looked like an empty kielbasa casing in his body. Or a tube sock. It was grossly too large. I could see why he had problems with swallowing.

When a dog gets Mega E, they will never be cured. Puppies can sometimes fair okay if caught in time, and there have been examples of the condition reversing. Older dogs, like Riley, who happens to only be four, will not ever have a case of reversal. His food will sit in his throat until he gets agitated and he will regurgitate it back up. Regurgitation should not be confused with vomiting, although, he does sometimes vomit. Regurgitation is a passive approach to expelling food from his body. He does this more than vomit, as most of his food does not reach his stomach. It just sits in his throat. Dr. Stenzel compared what he must feel to eating a large bite of food and it just seems to hang out in your throat. Then, after that feeling passes, if he is lucky to have food go to his belly, he gets to salivate excessively and feel nauseous. Dr. Stenzel recommended with great concern for my ever-growing belly with baby, that we let Riley go.

Too devastated to make that decision right then, we scooped up our boy and left the office. We know that the doctor is only recommending what he would do for his own dog. He said that even if we tried to help Riley eat, that he can still get aspiration pneumonia. This is a result of the chronic regurgitation that will lead to him inhaling food particles to his lungs. He will have to be treated for that when/if he gets it. After reading up on this condition, it seems that this sickness tends to always be a result. The doctor seemed to feel that this would be an ongoing problem for Riley. He said with a baby on the way, and the amount of money we already put into figuring out what was wrong, was a lot. It was almost worse not knowing what is wrong with Riley.. But now that we do know, I feel such tremendous guilt in knowing we hold his life in our hands. Either we can work to try to figure out what will work to help him keep his food down, or we will let him go.

I felt the best I can do for first baby boy, Riley, is to try. We've been trying to wet his dog food first, before eating it.. He does not seem to like that. Then we allow him to drink water from a hamster-type of bottle, so he has to stretch his neck out to get it. After feeding him in as much of an upright position as we can manage, we have him "hug" Kyle while standing up for at least ten minutes after each feeding. We try to get his neck and belly in as much of a vertical position as possible. There have been thoughts that gravity can help to push the food to his stomach. We give him ice and have also tried canned wet food (more density and more water in the food) to see if that helps. I feel that we have to at least try. He's our baby boy. We have to try. If our child had a disease, we would not just put him down. I know most people would say you cannot compare a dog to a child. But I do. I have been crying for him more than I would for most humans.

A dog never steals, lies, cheats, hurts you on purpose. A dog never sins. So the fact that he can get a disease which can mean his demise is so heartbreaking to me. And to play "God" is very hard on me as well. He has his moments when he is just plain old puppy-duppy Riley, aka Boobies. He's our boy. Then he gets moments (probably from low blood sugar) where he gives us a 1,000 mile stare. He's not himself. We can't play his favorite game of tire for too long, as that will make him thirsty, and we can't let him drink too much water or he will regurgitate. ---------------------------------------------------

----A couple of days have passed and we have decided to let Riley go. I don't know why we call it "letting him go", as he might not have wanted to go. He was just so uncomfortable. His weight was dropping off so quick. He wheezed and gurgled and looked so sad. I just know how I feel when I get nauseous and I couldn't bear to watch him feel that way... all the time. We tried to have him stand up on a chair and eat off the counter. That worked for his morning and afternoon feeding. Then, a dinner feeding would push him over the edge. The total amount of food served was no where near enough to nourish an 80 pound Labrador. He couldn't even drink water.

I asked God for a sign for what to do. I know a lot of people would have let him go with the first news of the condition that he suffered with. I wanted to at least try. I wanted to know, in my heart, that we gave him a fighting chance. It was when we took him on our regular afternoon walk, which he loves and would suck up any pain whatsoever to go, that I feel I got my first sign. Just a few minutes into the walk, he threw up three times. Most of it was mucus and foam, and a lot of it was food. Possibly from the previous hours in the day. He looked so miserable. I felt so bad for him that I even praised him for vomiting. I wanted him to know I love him. That seemed to be a first sign for me. A sign that something he loves and cherishes so much like his daily walk is now affected. He can't even enjoy that.

He seemed okay for a while after the walk. Then evening came and the gurgling and gagging continued. Nothing would seem to help him. We've tried antacids, and anti-vomiting medicines. We have steroids. We have a doggy pharmacy now. Nothing works because nothing will stay in his stomach. We've seen many undigested pills in his vomit. They never even seem to reach his stomach to do him any good. His esophagus is just too enlarged.

While sleeping, Riley threw up on the futon he was sleeping on with Kyle. Then a few more times on the bedroom floor, and in the hallway. It seemed like nothing would settle his stomach. He could not get any comfort. I was reminded of what our vet told us to think of what it's like to take a big bite of food and have it sit in our throat for a while. Riley's throat feels that all the time. Then if/when it gets to his stomach, any slight irritation will cause him to feel nauseous. Then he will get the "juicies" and drool from feeling so sick. His nose was drying out, and his left eye started to look really aggravated. Probably from all of his vomiting and regurgitation.

The next morning we awoke to a very hungry Riley. I couldn't tell if the gurgling sounds I was hearing were from nauseousness or from a lack of food. Our boy was starving. He was thirsty and starving. We couldn't even nourish him. I wanted to go a full week or possibly two, of trying to feed him standing upright and then holding him up for ten minutes after every meal. I wanted to let myself know that we did everything we could. I felt a week was fair to him. Or so I thought. The more the days past and I knew that no food was getting into his belly, the more I realized that I wasn't keeping him around for him. I was doing it for me. I wanted him here. I wanted to keep him as long as I could. Suddenly I realized that it was unfair of me to keep him here, starving, thirsty, sick... It was turning into more of a punishment for him. My desire to keep him on Earth was literally eating him up.

I also started to think about the fact that Kyle really wanted to protect his family. I haven't had a full nights' sleep in weeks. Since before we started doing our tests, surgeries and Xrays. My heart wretched every time Riley vomited because I didn't know what was causing it. I never seemed to get more than an hour at a time at night. It was a miracle I made it through each work day at all. I felt more delirious than after a long party night of drinking. Add being almost 8 months pregnant on top of that, and I was extremely out of it. I've started to notice that Brady's patterns are different now. He used to kick and squirm like clockwork. I started to notice that he was moving more during all hours of the night. Most likely due to my getting up to either check on Riley or to clean up his mess. I started to realize it was unfair to not let Kyle protect his family. We were starting to worry that my crying and stress was affecting our baby.

I dreaded this morning. I did not want it to come. I knew it was inevitable. No matter what we tried, we were not going to be able to save our baby boy. I felt so helpless and useless. I still feel that way. I went to work today. I watched Kyle play with Riley's tire with him. I took a video of it. I wanted to remember Riley that way. He loved his tire. He loved to catch and to play. Lately, he barely has interest in things he used to. His favorite blue ball was too much work to look for, playing and running around the house was a lot of work. At least we could get him to play with his tire. He was really great at catching it in the air and would usually out run any throw. I took a few pictures of him while he played. That's when Riley is Riley. Then, since we had to fast him for twelve hours before his vet visit, we could not feed him. I had to hide the fact we were feeding Monkey. I felt so horrible.

Last night, after a few hours of gurgling in his stomach and wheezing, he vomited. It had a smell of fecal matter. I really think that it was just the beginning of more possible problems he would have had to face. Megaesophagus is said to be a result of another underlying condition. If he had a neurological disorder forming, it was only a matter of time before something else took his life. I sometimes feel like I am just trying to convince myself that we did the right thing. I think more about what we did do for him and how hard we tried. I think of the different routes we went for him. If Dr. Stenzel had not been able to diagnose Riley, we would have went to another vet and another vet.. Until we found out what it was. We could not go on hearing that nothing was wrong with him based on tests, but he was still vomiting and losing weight. That was almost more stressful than hearing what the disease was.

Some websites that I have researched say that Mega E can be managed. Some dogs get this condition and can survive with it. I believe that to be true. I believe in miracles too. I just don't think that was in the cards for Riley. We did what the sites suggested we do. We fed him and held him upright for every meal. We went as far as to burp him. No amount of burping or talking to him, or walking, or letting him sleep, seemed to help him. Food was just not going to go where it needed to. I feel that maybe his condition was worse than we initially thought, as this seemed to progress rapidly. He started just regurgitating from time-to-time after eating. We thought that was caused from eating too fast. Then he began to regurgitate a short period of time after eating.. we thought he might be sick. It seems like just a week later he was vomiting all of the time. Nothing was staying down. Then after all the ultrasounds and surgeries before our final diagnosis, we saw it worse than ever. He threw up at least 5 times a day. We did have one day of no vomiting.. but it only lasted 19 hours and we didn't really feed him much, out of fear he would get sick again. One slight trigger of water from a bowl on the floor and he threw up all he had in his body over the course of the night and next day.

Our boy has been missing now, spiritually, for at least a month. I look back at some pictures I had taken over the past few months to look for clues. I had no idea he would get so sick so fast. I had no idea that we would ever have to decide to let our four-year-old puppy go. I had no clue how much I could hurt over our puppy. He will always be a puppy to me. I choke back tears just thinking of how much we loved him and how much he loved us in return.

I try to believe that maybe he was going to get this disease no matter what. When we picked out the little boy puppy with the fish collar (they called him "fish boy"), it was meant to be. We would show him more in four years than a lot of dogs would have seen in a lifetime. Maybe it was God's way of giving him a quality of life. He could have very well have been adopted by another family. Not to say we gave him the best life ever, but we did do our best to always include our boy in things when we could. I find peace in sayings that quote "it's not the quantity of a dog's life, but the quality".

In Riley's short life, he's been to Norfolk, VA (largest Navy base in the world) and to the Chesapeake Bay for a swim. He saw his first snowfall in Norfolk. He learned how to walk properly without sniffing all over the place in Virginia. I still chuckle over the memory of Kyle getting so aggravated with his puppy behavior during a walk, that he picked him up and carried him, muddy paws and all, on his shoulders back to our home. He learned to love his tire there. He took care of me when Kyle had deployments and went underway for days, weeks or months at a time. He helped me to not feel so alone. We'd have staring contests. I swore he could understand me.

We moved to Iowa and Riley got to learn to be a snow blower and push his nose through the white fluffy snow. He loved when it snowed. He got to be our best friend when times were hard. Kyle had a hard time finding a job and Riley kept him warm and cuddled on the floor with him when it was cold. Riley was there to party with us when we were too broke to go out, and too bored to just sit and stare at the wall. He was a party animal with us. He went to his very first dog park in Des Moines. He loved it. Socializing was something he needed a bit of training in, as he thought it was appropriate to hump every dog that came his way.

We left Iowa for Clearwater, Florida, and Riley came with us here. He was there to squish in between our seats in a Budget truck that carried our whole life of belongings. He curled up in a ball and never once annoyed us. He was such a good boy. He got to swim in the Gulf of Mexico and the Tampa Bay. He's been swimming in a pool. He's lived a dog's life.

I think, in the end, we were really each other's best friend. He was there for us. I hope that he realizes that we tried so very hard to be there for him. I couldn't be there for him today as he laid to rest. Kyle took him for me. He promised me that he would let Riley ride in the front seat of the truck so he could hang his head out the window. He promised he would say nothing but kind words and "good boy" to him today. He played tire with him. He said he would go in with him for his final shot. He would comfort him and let him know he loved him. As the vet lay Riley down to sleep, I hope that Riley realized we loved him. I hope he felt no pain. I hope it was quick. I hope he's in Heaven now and will wait for us.

There is no handbook for the right thing to do. The more I talked to people about this painful decision, the more I learned I was not alone in having to decide. It has to be done sometimes. It's just such a shame he had to go so soon. Then, again, it would be no easier if he left us a few years from now. I would love him no less.

I know that I will miss him a lot. Our family is empty without him. He is our Boobies and he always will be. There will never be another Boobies. I will not allow it.

Gemini

5/21 – 6/21

Overview

Whether or not your realize it, your actions affect the world around you. The patterns of your behavior cause ripples around you, and influence how other people behave -- especially today, when you are with people who can be very, very easily influenced. Take this responsibility seriously and don't do anything that could set a bad example for others. This shouldn't be very difficult for a good person like you, but it should be something to keep at the front of your mind.

25 Tid Bits

1. I am pregnant with my first son, but this is not my first pregnancy. I lost my first one a year ago... It will be almost a year exactly from when Brady is expected to be born. I like to think that things go full circle and Brady will be born to represent the love we have for him and for our first conception.

2. It irritates me when people say the word "height" with the "TH" at the end, instead of the "T". You wouldn't say weighth, now would you?

3. When I was a child, I wanted to be an artist. When I learned you can't make money with art, I wanted to be a pediatrician. Now, I'm neither, and still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

4. I am a total dog person. Big dogs are my favorite. The bigger the better.

5. I LOVE sports and beer. My favorite sports are NFL, College football, and baseball. Pair a sport with a Bud Light and I'm in heaven.

6. I bite my nails. Have been since I was a child. I was never a thumb sucker.

7. Symmetry is important to me. An off-center picture on the wall will really bug me. Things have to be aligned and straight. Funny thing is, my two front teeth are crooked and I don't care.

8. I can watch design shows on TV all day long and never get up from the couch except for food and bathroom breaks.

9. Music is so important to me and so many songs have a way to speak straight to my heart. I love a good country song with a great story line.

10. Sometimes I miss CT, VA and IA. Then a calm winter experience in FL makes me grateful to be where I am. I have conflicting thoughts about where I live at least once a week.

11. There is a reason for everything, and just because I can't see it, doesn't mean that things won't work out how they should. I always try to find the silver lining. Dwelling on difficult situations really only makes them worse.

12. I would love my husband no matter what he did for a living. If he was a professional manure scooper or a top-notch lawyer, I would love him the same. As long as we have a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and electricity for warmth, I will be happy. I might want more, but I know that sometimes all you really need is just what you have, and no more.

13. Even though I just stated in #12 that I know we don't need a ton of money to be happy, Kyle and I still play the Lotto every once in a while to daydream about what we would have if we ever won.

14. I really miss Margaritas. It's been almost 8 months now, since I've had one. My family thinks that I am joking when I say that I want one as soon as Brady is born. But I'm serious.

15. I am so grateful for all the great people in my life, far and wide. I have been supported so well by my friends and family from far away states in such ways that I have never felt alone.

16. My grandmother is truly one of my best friends. I love her so much and am really glad she's so young and only in her sixties. She will be in the delivery room when Brady is born. This will be her first birth experience, as she was put under for her children, and has never been to the births of her grandchildren.

17. I get on breakfast kicks. I can eat grits everyday for months and it won't bother me. Then I'm tired of it and will eat waffles everyday, then bagels. The only exception is weekend breakfast, where anything goes.

18. We really only eat Cracker Barrel when we are with my Dad and Dorothy. I don't think I've ever had it without them. It's a great place, but I think subconsciously I reserve it as a tradition with them.

19. My sister-in-law, my Gemini twin, is pregnant for the first time. We are doing this "together", even though we are thousands of miles apart... Although, she's got double duty. She's carrying twin girls and I couldn't be more happy for her. We're starting a family generation together.

20. I love Taco Bell, and could probably eat it everyday... Give me a bean burrito and nobody gets hurt.

21. Now that I'm pregnant, I don't think Tom Cruise is as psycho as I thought he was when he bought his wife an ultrasound machine. I find myself constantly wondering what the heck Brady is doing in my belly.

22. I love that I am from a large family. I think that when my dad got remarried to Dorothy, I was truly blessed with a group of wonderful people. I love my step siblings as my own brothers and sisters. We may not be blood, but we are family. I think it was a divine marriage of the two families. My half brother from my mom's remarriage is more proof that sometimes it is better for unhappy parents to divorce and find love again.

23. I'm a tolerant conservative. Is there such a thing? I might not agree with what you do, but I try my best to not judge.

24. I am NOT an 80s music fan. I dislike most of it.

25. When I was little I wanted to be a twin and for my name to be Samantha. So glad there's only one of me... As for my name, I love that I'm A-MAN-da! :)