36 weeks

Only a month to go until my due date, which I'm still hoping means more like 2 weeks, since I was 2 weeks early with Julian. I feel like my body is designed to labor at 38 weeks, since I can't imagine feeling any bigger or more uncomfortable than I do now. I chickened out of bringing up induction with my OB on Friday. I know she'll just say that there's no medical reason and offer me 39, and as anxious and antsy as I feel, I don't think I'd do a good job of convincing her to induce for emotional reasons. On the outside, I am the image of calm much of the time. At least that's how my reservation and "I'll exhale when the baby's here" attitude must come off to people who don't know me well or never bother to ask how I'm really doing. (As for how DH, a Brit, is doing--the World Cup and the Tour de France are providing convenient distractions. Need I say more?)

Everything went well with Dr. G. on Friday. I think she's starting to wonder if the weekly echos are doing us more harm than good, but the truth is, I like seeing her. She's reassuring, doesn't blow off our concerns, and uses Julian's name on a regular basis. Sure, I hate going to the hospital at 8:30am every Friday, but it sure is a good way to mark the time. We also had an interview with a pediatrician that afternoon, who we really liked. Not only is she affiliated with the hospital, but she knows Dr. G., uses email, and used to see my OB's kids before she moved to the 'burbs. Overall, a good match for us.

So, I'm off work until I return from maternity leave in October. I feel such a tremendous sense of relief that I decided to take vacation until my maternity leave starts. Not only is it better for my physical comfort, but for my emotional comfort as well. People were starting to ask questions. Or not. Which put me in a no-win situation. I was adamant that I didn't want to have to answer a lot of questions, and have been very protective and low-key about my pregnancy, but when it became obvious, it was also somewhat disconcerting to have people ignore it or give me strange looks or get all twitchy around me, but not say anything. (Deja vu? Reminds me of when I returned from my first maternity leave, sans baby). With the exception of a few close colleagues and friends, I didn't hear many "good lucks" or "take cares," but I did manage to sneak out the back door before things got really uncomfortable. More importantly, this time off is better for Natalie, who deserves to be prepared for in a way that I wasn't able to fully prepare for Julian. And she deserves to have a calm, emotionally sound mom who is 100% focused on her.

Natalie's Room

I figured I'd jump on the bandwagon and share a recent photo of Natalie's room. This is my last week at work and I'm busy making preparations. I think I'll actually break down and wash her clothes next week. It's strange--as anxious as I am about bringing her home, the only thing that helps me get through it is to continue to get everything ready for her arrival. I know some people would be so paralyzed by fear that they'd worry about jinxing things.

Let's be clear. I'm scared to death. No amount of scans or tests can convince me of what I know. My first baby died, and I am in the unusual position of knowing more people whose babies have died than have come home. (Yes, this is a true statement. I still don't have a lot of close friends or co-workers with children, I don't have siblings, and DH's friends and family had their children a while ago). It reminds me of my friend, M., who spent her early career working with children with cancer. When she had her son, she was shocked that he was healthy, because all the other children in her life had cancer.

For me, the choice to have another child is a try without a guaranteed outcome. It's a leap of faith, and faith is not something I'm very big on, being someone who tends to rely on a combination of facts and intuition. Every week that Natalie is still with us is a joy and a relief, but pregnancy is still a scary place for me to be and I look forward to the day she is living on the outside, in the safety of the home that has been awaiting her for what feels like years. I hope my OB will agree to induce me earlier than 39 weeks if I am going crazy and ask politely.

Update: Natalie's biophysical profile and fetal echocardiogram were excellent last week, as was my blood pressure, urine, and weight. She currently weighs about 4 pounds, 11 ounces, which I worried was a bit on the small side (I am not accustomed to being in the 20th percentile of anything!), but she's completely normal for dates. Dr. C. asked how nervous I was feeling, and I said I was ready to go, to which she replied, "Let's just get you to 36 weeks." Is this the opening I am hoping for? I'd be happy with 38. I'm sure my mother would be happy with a set date, too, since I think she's worried she's going to miss the birth!

*****

The instructor of our newborn care class made a comment to the effect of, "If you think you've got it bad, just be glad you're not a penguin," referring to the film, March of the Penguins. I thought, "Lady, if you're referring to the fact that lots of penguins don't make it due to the harsh conditions under which they are conceived, let's get something straight: some [human] babies die, too." I rented the film yesterday afternoon and was all weepy, of course. (Morgan Freeman's narrations get me every time.) The film did acknowledge the death of baby penguins, but I was struck that the only thing that was mentioned about the bereft mother penguins was that they were so overcome with grief that they would try to steal another mother's baby, which the other mothers would not allow. I wondered what happened to them after that. Were they shunned from the community? Did they return home without their baby or wait for the father to return to show him what happened? Would this decrease their chances of finding a suitable mate next season? That's the story I'd really like to hear.

Baby overload

I think I am starting to drive DH crazy with my obsessions with baby gear (swing or bouncer, which swing, which pattern, sling or front-carrier, bleach-free diapers, which diaper cream, etc.). Thankfully, one of the teachers at Realbirth on Sunday mentioned that it was completely normal (and serves a biological function) for women to be completely OCD surrounding the birth of their babies, so DH is cutting me a bit of slack. Truthfully, he is just as neurotic, but his neuroses manifest in different ways.

In really exciting news, "Uncle" Joel will be in town next month for the screening of his film, Mansyon, at the 29th NY Asian-American International Film Festival. (I have been dying, by the way, to see this film). He may even get to meet Natalie while he's in the country. Can't wait!

Father's Day

DH and I enjoyed a lovely Sunday together, which is a rare thing given that he usually works on Sundays. We spent the day attending breastfeeding and infant care classes at Realbirth. Both classes were excellent, and much better than the hospital-based classes we took when I was pregnant with Julian. I had left my previous breastfeeding class feeling completely overwhelmed and unprepared, but left the Realbirth class feeling confident and empowered by my own intuition.

While the classes and teachers were great, they also raised some very emotional issues for us, which we discussed through tears on the journey home. For one thing, the issue of SIDS came up in the context of sleeping preferences. Although our baby didn't die of SIDS, and I've only met one woman whose baby did die of SIDS, I felt very self-conscious about the discussion, sitting in a room presumably full of first-time parents who had never experienced the death of an infant. The conversation was fairly light and somewhat dismissive of the risk factors, which made me a little uncomfortable.

The most emotional aspect of the classes, however, was re-learning all the basics of newborn care that are intended to make a baby's transition from the womb to the real world feel as safe and comforting as possible, from the importance of skin-to-skin contact, to breastfeeding, to rooming-in with the baby in the hospital and discouraging unnecessary interruptions and interventions when possible. When the presenter said, "...unless your baby has to go to the NICU..." DH and I pretty much lost it. For most people, their NICU babies become NICU graduates, not babies who get a plaque in the hospital garden in their honor for having lost the battle for their lives in the NICU.

While DH and I know that Julian received the best medical care possible, and that all the interventions were necessary to help him, I think we will always feel very sad and even a little guilty about what he didn't get in his short little life. Forget that he didn't get to grow up--he didn't even get to experience his mother's arms until the day he died. He didn't get to look into our eyes or smell familiar smells or sleep in the same room as his mother, or any of the things we know to be so important during those first few days. This detachment must have been very hard on him, as I know it was, and still is for me. I can't bear the thought of him all alone in a NICU bed, even though I know that we were there. Natalie's upcoming birth will be especially emotional for those reasons. I truly hope we're able to have the best introduction possible this time around.

No news is good news

I feel like I haven't written a serious post in a while, is that why it seems that no one visits anymore? Could you possibly find pictures of my cats *that* boring??? (Don't answer that.)

I guess the weekly visits are starting to get a bit old, and I just want to bring Natalie home. Days like today are always so stressful, and tend to start with bouts of irritable bowel syndrome and extreme agitation until Dr. G. tells us that things look "perfect." DH and I have really been put through it with this pregnancy, and there isn't much more I can say about it, other than that I can't wait for it to be over. For the record, my last several echos have been very good, and while I feel reassured, I won't feel 100% out of the woods until the day my little girl comes home.

My OB wants to see me weekly now, too. Everything looked great from her perspective today, except for that trace amount of protein in my urine that won me my third 24-hour urine collection kit of this pregnancy (ugh!). The good news is that I've only gained 20 lbs. so far. Oh, and I think the baby dropped a few days ago, which I know doesn't really mean anything, but at least it makes me feel like she is truly coming any day now, even if any day is really over a month away.

My last visit with my psychiatrist, Dr. B., went very well. She thinks I'm doing well off the meds, was impressed with the successful way in which I truly have managed to make it through this pregnancy on my own terms (keeping a low profile, and therefore minimizing myself to unwanted attention, advice, or conversations), and best of all, without even knowing the extent of my domesticity, or my mentioning it, recommended that I get a cleaning lady. I asked her if she'd write that on an Rx pad so I could show it to DH. She just laughed, not realizing that I was completely serious!

In other news, I have been busy getting as much ready as I possibly can, so we really only have a few more necessities to pick up and things to line up, and we'll be all set. I really should book that cleaning lady, too...

If you're wondering how I *really* feel...

Check out sillyhummingbird's latest post. (Yes, I am being a lazy blogger).

The new hot spot

Feline 'It' duo Seamus and Sylvester exemplify understated aloofness and sophisticated detached style atop the newly proclaimed hot spot. (Leather sofa by Seaman's, sweatshirt compliments of Daddy).

Celebaby

If you haven't seen the renegade photos yet, I just have to say, Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt is gorgeous. The official photos will be out in People tomorrow. She looks like both her parents, and when I saw the photos from Hello! Magazine a few days ago, it reminded me so much of the first time I saw Julian. After all the speculation about what he would look like, here was this familiar little person that I actually recognized without ever having seen him before. "Of course," I thought, "I have always known you." I am so looking forward to that experience again, when I see Natalie for the first time.

Grief, anxiety, guilt, and small victories

I am nearly 32 weeks and my general anxiety level seems to be through the roof these days. As my due date approaches, I feel more optimistic, but there is also that underlying fear of what could go wrong. To complicate matters, I think reality is setting in and I am also feeling nervous about parenting a baby that lives with me. Then I feel guilty, as though I should feel so grateful for having a living child that I'm only allowed to stress over life or death matters.

In order to feel a sense of control, I like to plan things. I am a planner by nature, but given that all my best laid plans for Julian didn't work out, I worry about planning too much with this pregnancy. The reality is, I live in Manhattan, so here I am, applying for daycare (and therefore pre-school, since I am applying to early childhood programs for children ages 6 months-5 years) over a year ahead of time.

In case you haven't heard, daycare and preschool admissions in Manhattan can be as competitive as college admissions (not to mention that once you get in, the cost of tuition is comparable to college as well). With all the Type A families that reside here, you practically have no choice but to play along, lest you find yourself without a space for your child. For this reason, I wept tears of joy when I read the following response from the admissions director at a local school to an inquiry as to when I should apply for Fall 2007 admission. (She remembered our family because I had applied to the school in 2004 for Julian, and had to break the news that we wouldn't be needing a space after all.)

"I have thought of you often and could not be happier for anyone. We would love to have your daughter and she will have a place here in 2007. I begin accepting applications in September, so once I receive your application, I will immediately place her on our roster."

Once again, I am overwhelmed by the compassion human beings are capable of, particularly when you least expect it, and with everything else going on, it is such a relief to know that there is one huge source of stress that we won't need to deal with. Now I just need to get on with bringing this little girl home!

A foot in both worlds

I just came upon an amazing non-profit organization called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep (NILMDTS). With volunteer affiliate photographers in most states, NILMDTS provides sensitive and compassionate photography services to families experiencing the death of an infant. The photos on this site are moving and brilliant and even hopeful, despite the obvious sadness inherent in the theme of infant loss. What comes across even more than tragedy in the photos is the love and tenderness that each family feels for the child(ren) who died. I found the photos of the children with their living siblings to be especially profound. The photographs show such respect for the families and their children, without exploitation or manipulation, that they reminded me of the Victorian-era post-mortem photography I've discussed here before.

(If you're beginning to worry that I've crossed over into the dark side, rest assured that I have also been keeping myself busy with "normal people" activities like looking into daycare, baby shopping, and nesting--well, I don't know how much nesting I'm really doing in this oppressive heat... I'm just your average bereaved mother, perfectly capable of grieving one child while celebrating the coming of another.)

Birth and death

Seems that Gwen and Ang weren't the only ones to give birth this weekend. Our car's engine has been destroyed for the second time in 3 weeks by nesting rats. NYC rats don't mess around. The first time, mama simply chewed on the wires and filled the engine cavity with bits of paper, lint, glass, and whatever else she could find to provide warmth for her babies. Yesterday, after a leisurely drive, the engine warning light came on again. Upon inspection, it was obvious that mama had come back to deliver and had caused more damage along the way. The engine was again packed with nesting materials, which DH carefully and somewhat squeamishly removed with rubber gloves, revealing several tiny, no longer living babies, whom mama had likely been forced to abandon when we started the car earlier in the day. We were able to exhume all but the two tiniest runts, who were too tucked away to reach without the proper tools. Apart from the $400 we'll have to pay to take care of this (for the second time), we are both feeling quite disturbed and distressed over this incident. What is mama going to think or do when she comes back? We both feel silly, but also a little sad over this latest bizarre incident in our world.

100% girl

One of the residents who works with Dr. G. in cardiology added a little fun to our usual anxiety-provoking visit by giving us another peek between the baby's legs. For the first time ever, we saw LABIA. No doubt about it, Natalie's a girl! It may seem silly, but the image was very exciting, considering that without any visual proof to date, there was still a good chance that all the dresses I've bought for Natalie would end up being worn by Nathaniel.

The good word is that her heart still looks great, no sign of hydrops or anything else of concern at this point, and she's measuring according to dates, weighing approx. 3 lbs., 5 oz. On top of that, my BP was good, and I haven't gained any weight in the past 3 weeks, so I'm still at 17 lbs. total. I might just get through this pregnancy at nearly the same weight I was at the end of my pregnancy with Julian, which isn't too shabby, considering that I was able to lose that weight right away, even without the added advantage of being able to breastfeed.

-----------------------
Stuff to watch:

If you haven't had the opportunity to see the award-winning documentary, "Little Man," it's currently airing on Showtime and is totally worth the box of tissues you'll go through as you learn about one family's struggle with life and death decisions regarding their premature son. The themes are controversial, often disturbing, and at times political, but also deeply personal and profoundly moving. This is a story that rarely gets told. Click here for local airtimes.

In a sub-subplot of episode 10 ("The Baptism") of my new favorite HBO show, "Big Love," a past family tragedy is revealed when Bill celebrates the birth of his new nephew with brother Joey and sister-in-law Wanda, and mother Lois pronounces matter-of-factly, "This one's gon' live."

I just rented the 2005 film, "Junebug," a quirky family drama that unexpectedly delves into the tragedy of stillbirth. The film was nominated for several film awards and stars one of my many fantasy boyfriends, Alessandro Nivola.

Happy dance!

I just found out that one of the most deserving people in the entire world got some really good news today, and I am overjoyed for her and her family! :)

The party is over

I've just had a nice visit with my mom, and a good check-up with the cardiologist last Friday, but I think that other recent events that I won't go into, in combination with my hormones and lack of pill popping have pushed me over the edge into pre-partum depression territory. Just when I thought I was coping so well, I'm suddenly reduced to a puddle of tears. Is it too soon for another vacation? Somebody wake me up in 8 weeks.

P.S. I was struck by the following on the bus the other day and thought I'd share (from MTA's "Poetry in Motion" series):

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in the grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase 'each other'
doesn't make any sense.

-Rumi

More frivolous baby things

To keep my mind off how anxious I have become in these past few days, as we approach the final 10-week countdown, I thought I'd bore you with talk of frivolous, though necessary, baby things. (Please don't think I've lost my mind, I'm just trying to distract myself from the paralyzing sense of fear and dread that could easily overtake me at any moment.)

Our stroller arrived, and we love it! I'll come clean--the stroller is indeed manufactured by Zooper, but I ordered it from (shhh!) Pottery Barn Kids. This particular stroller was made especially for PBK by Zooper, and most closely resembles the 2005 "Swing" and the 2006 "Hula" styles (the biggest differences are the rear wheel width, the fabric, and PBK label, which though subtle, may be offensive to your aesthetic sensibilities--it slightly offends mine, but I'll live with it for the price!).

The stroller is substantial, handsome looking, and easy to maneuver. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the stroller came with extras like a UV cover, infant seat adaptor, rain cover, and boot, which manufacturers like Maclaren and Bugaboo would gladly label as "optional" and charge extra for. It is surprisingly made in the U.S.A. and the customer service office (based in Portland) is amazing. If you are stroller shopping, be sure to check it out, and act quickly--it was a major steal at $129.99 (originally $249.99). I can only assume they didn't do well because lots of parents find it unsettling to buy a stroller from a furniture store, and perhaps it wasn't clear who the manufacturer was. If you need more convincing, the Zooper was a top pick in this year's edition of Baby Bargains (another must have item!).

Holiday in Vermont

We had a really restful long weekend in Vermont despite the non-stop rain. Robert (pictured above with Billings) learned to fly a Harris Hawk, and I had an excellent massage and pedicure. Mother's Day was not without its challenges, but I survived (I still haven't come up with a smooth way to answer the inevitable, "Is this your first... How many.... How old...?" I find that I am not able to lie, but also not able to come up with a one liner than won't lead to further questions--please send suggestions if you have them!). Best of all, we had our weekly echo before hitting the road and Natalie's heart looked great, so we were able to truly relax and enjoy our mini getaway together. Oh, and Robert bought me a lovely gold locket. :)

Mother's Day

DH and I are off to Vermont for the weekend, but before we leave, I'd like to address the controversial topic of Mother's Day. Last year, I felt confined to my apartment on Mother's Day, because I was scared to death that someone would ask me if I had any children, and I was in no state to cope with the public. This year, however, I feel more validated as a mother, and therefore more resolved not to let anyone take that away from me. On Sunday, I intend to honor myself, my children, my mother, and all the other extra-special mothers out there (particularly Catherine, Delphi, Lauralu, Gabesmama, NervousKitty, Sillyhummingbird, Deadbabymama, Kate, Anam, Jill, and other regular readers) who have had to struggle a little harder than most to achieve and sustain their status as mothers, and who experience the joy and pain of motherhood every single day.

Pregnant again

I just had lunch with an administrator who I like, but don't know very well, and haven't seen for a while. As we were walking down the street talking, out of nowhere, she stopped and asked, "Oh, are you pregnant again?" Of course I responded that I was, and before I had a chance to offer my usual qualifiers, she asked how things were going, and I told her the truth, that there have been lots of ups and downs, close monitoring, and unknowns, that this doesn't change things, and that there are no guarantees. Thankfully, she completely understood where I was coming from, yet didn't shy away from asking further questions about me or the baby. This is typical of this person--she is known for her offbeat and rather blunt communication style. I'm sure it's considered tactless by others, but at the moment, I find it particularly refreshing and comforting.

In other news, can you believe I just bought a STROLLER???? I never got around to buying one when I was pregnant with Julian, because I couldn't make up my mind. It feels like a big commitment, but just found one I like at a really good price that made it hard to pass up. I ended up going with a Zooper that is suitable from birth-40 lbs. I had originally been tied to getting a Maclaren, but the Zooper seems like the "indie stroller" in this city full of Bugs, Macs, and Stokkes. The design is actually similar to a Mac, but touted as being more value for money. I hope I don't end up regretting this!

The world is an unfair place

I just learned that someone in our virtual community has suffered another devastating loss. Please send your best to Catherine and her family. Following the stillbirth of her second son, Alex around this time last year, Catherine has lost Baby #3, who was due in September. We mourn with her.

THIRD TRIMESTER!

We're officially in the home stretch (no pun intended, though my stretchmarks seem to have taken on a checkerboard pattern this week)! Only 12 more (hopefully only 10 more, really) weeks to go!

Perfect

After a week of Trying Not To Think About It, yet succumbing to fear and anxiety anyway, I am happy to report that our cardio appointment went very well today. No sign of TR, enlargement of the heart, or any fluid where it shouldn't be. We, of course, were thrilled and relieved, and since Natalie was being especially cooperative and photogenic today, Dr. G. even took lots of pictures and recordings to demonstrate a particular procedure to one of her classes at a later date. My OB appointment went well, too--passed my glucose screen, BP was only 120/60, no protein in my urine, and I've only gained 17 lbs.! I will hit 28 weeks on Sunday and will officially enter the third trimester, which I hope flies by with fewer concerns than the second. Please, please, please.

49 and looking good!

(Yes, he really is 49 this year!)

Happy birthday to the love of my life and the father of my children. May your one real birthday wish come true this year.

Borrowed from deadbabymama

I'm borrowing this post from deadbabymama, because I think it is so perfect.

"Grief is like a well, a well that is so deep you can't even comprehend if or where it might end. You spend a lot of time in it, and eventually make your way to the top, where you hang out, sometimes inside, sometimes partly outside. Sometimes you are sitting on the edge, dangling your feet over the side. Very occasionally you leave altogether and the well just sits at the end of the garden; you always come back to it. Often you come back involuntarily, an incident or image or person drags you back, sometimes even lifts you bodily and throws you down deep. If you are lucky you remember where the footholds are, and where the chinks that your fingers fit in are and you can get yourself out a bit faster and with fewer cuts and bruises than last time. Sometimes you take yourself down to the end of the garden and flirt with the well. You dip a toe in, or lie on your stomach at the edge and peer down. You might throw stones down it, to see how deep it is. Occasionally you throw caution to the wind and step in, hurtling yourself down; afterwards you wonder why you are so cruel to yourself but you also recognize the rewards of remembering. You know that you can't have the memories without the well, so you accept it and even start to incorporate it into the larger landscape of the garden. You plant around it in ways that draw subtle attention to it, it becomes a place you don't avoid but you also don't approach it without awareness. Other people comment on the beauty of your garden, and the worthwhile ones include the well in their assessment. The well is part of your landscape, and you learn to live with it somewhat gracefully, sometimes even proudly; it is no longer deep enough to swallow all of your joy." (Posted on deadbabyblog, 5/1/06).

&*$^$%(*(#$*(!!!

We had our weekly meeting with Dr. G. today instead of Friday. All is still well with Natalie's heart in terms of size, function, etc. but Dr. G. did point out that a very minute amount of tricuspid regurgitation (TR) was present. She repeated several times that she was not worried about this, and that we shouldn't be either, and that it was most likely of a transient nature, but it's hard not to feel anxious and scared. DH and I are not worried, per se, and I know that Dr. G. would not hesitate to let us know if she was truly concerned based on our past experience with her, but it's hard not to become overwhelmed with fear and anxiety over the slightest little blip, when we want so badly for every doctor's visit to be perfect.

On top of that, I have spent the past few days trying to deal with thousands of dollars in medical bills, insurance problems, benefits, claims, referrals, authorizations, etc. No one seems to be on the same page, everyone is giving me the run around and pointing the finger at some other department, and it's starting to wear me down and put me in a nasty mood. Welcome to the joys of high risk pregnancy and obstetrics.

"For sale: Baby shoes. Never worn."

Thus begins and ends what Ernest Hemingway called the best short story he had ever written, the legend of which is mentioned in Daniel Raeburn's "Vessels" which appears in the Personal History section of this week's New Yorker. Robert pointed the piece out to me yesterday. The subtitle, "Irene Raeburn: Born December 28, 2004; Died December 24, 2004" leapt from the page, as did the hauntingly beautiful photograph of Raeburn and his wife, one year into their grief over their stillborn daughter.

I hesitated before reading the piece, although I was immediately impressed and encouraged by the magazine's decision to include it at all. Parents of babies who died share a silent grief (most often silenced by cultural and societal forces), which often goes unnoticed in popular culture and the media, so I'm always heartened by the acknowledgement of this experience as something that can and does happen, and not just to your neighbor's sister's best friend's co-worker. At the same time, I'm often cautious about reading such accounts, because I wonder, "Is this something that I would want to share with someone who hasn't experienced the loss of a child? What if it leaves something out? Will it give them the 'right' impression of what our lives are like? Does it too easily let them (the medical staff who responded inappropriately, the friends who stopped calling, the family members who grew distant, the colleagues who averted their eyes when we passed in the hall) off the hook?"

In the end, Robert helped to remind me that as the piece is a personal narrative, there is no 'right' or 'wrong,' and that every experience is unique and should be honored how ever the parents choose to perceive or process their individual tragedy. That being said, Robert and I discussed the article after we'd both read it, and came to a few of the same conclusions: it was nice to have a father's perspective, but a shame that the mother's perspective was not particularly addressed, as we imagine hers would have been quite different; the story focused on the time period immediately following the birth and death of Raeburn's daughter Irene, but didn't touch on the complicated grief that most likely emerged in the months and years following the loss of their baby, which might give the unknowing reader the sense that parental bereavement has a beginning and an end, which we know couldn't be further from the truth.

In fairness, this is Raeburn's story, not ours, and no one essay can be expected to cover everything we wish it would. All we can do is continue to tell all of our stories.

Oops, she did it again

Celebrity Baby Blog confirmed what we already feared: Britney is pregnant again, only 6 months after giving birth to her son Sean Preston via c-section (I'm sure her OB would not have recommended another pregnancy so soon). Yes, after the driving in the lap incident, and the "he fell out of the high chair" excuse, she's ready to irresponsibly parent baby #2. Don't get me started...

The glass is officially half full

We had a great visit with Dr. G. on Friday, who assured us that Natalie's heart is still looking good. However, she still wants to see us every week until delivery since Julian's heart problem wasn't discovered until very late in my last pregnancy. Fine with us. I wouldn't want them to miss something that could potentially be treated in utero. Now that I'm further along, and feeling that there's a good chance Natalie will get to come home, I'm getting excited about labor and delivery.

Giving birth to Julian was probably the best thing I have ever done, and I can't wait to have that experience again. This time, though, I would prefer that the experience not include the need to whisk my baby away from me before I get to see her, or keep her away from me for extended periods of time. I want to be able to hold my baby girl right away, to bond with her, to feed her. I want my face to be the first one she sees.

I have been worried that I would be robbed of the natural mother-infant bonding process due to the high risk nature of my pregnancy. Although Dr. G. isn't my OB, I trust her and know her a lot better than I know my OB, so I asked her what she thought would happen after delivery, if things continue to look good. I was very surprised and happy to hear that she didn't think that Natalie would need to spend time in the NICU, and would probably start out in the transitional nursery, then go to the regular newborn nursery if she continued to be stable. It was so comforting to be told that she didn't see a reason why I shouldn't get to bond with my baby right away. She also said that she didn't think there would be any need to keep Natalie on medication, but that she would want to see her for an echo before she leaves the hospital, and again at 3, 6, 9, and 12 months. I really did not expect to hear that we would get to experience anything remotely close to a "normal" labor and delivery. I still have 3 1/2 months left to go, but I am trying to keep my eyes on the prize, so to speak.

In other good news, my labs came back and I do not have pre-eclampsia or gestational diabetes at this point. DH and I are both sick with horrible colds, but have been having a great time behaving badly with our dear friend, Mich, who is staying with us this weekend. From celeb spottings at Pastis to a delicious and leisurely lunch at the Culinary Institute of America , to enjoying big art at Dia Beacon , his visit has been a wonderful diversion. This is the most fun I think we've had in ages.

Congratulations, Anam!

While I was foolishly and shamefully posting about celebrity babies, I completely missed out on the news that Anam had her baby. Congratulations on your little boy, Anam!

The subsequent baby boomlet begins!

This just in...

You all must know by now that I have a "minor" celebrity baby obsession. (While I can hardly bear the thought of looking at other pregnant women, babies, or photos of babies of people I know, something about celebrity babies seems to satisfy my not-so-secret baby obsession without the need to get too close and risk falling apart.) Anyway, I have been checking Celebrity Baby Blog several times a day, awaiting news of Brangelina, TomKitten, and whatever it is they're calling Brooke Shields' second baby. I just checked for the third time today, and it turns out that Katie and Brooke welcomed baby girls Suri and Grier today! How ironic, considering Tom & Brooke's ongoing feud over post-partum depression. Check CBB for updates, if you are so inclined.

15 weeks to go

I can hardly believe I'm 25 weeks already. Only 15 more (and 15 more echocardiograms) to go! Well, only 14 if you factor in the fact that my OB said she'd be willing to induce me at 39 weeks, and 13 if you take my master plan to go into labor naturally at 38 weeks into account. We'll see.

Given that we've had a few more good echos, I've been feeling more optimistic about the chances we'll actually get to bring our baby girl home. I've bought a few more clothes, and even "came out" to a colleague over lunch yesterday, who asked if I thought I would have any more children. I began with "Well, actually..." and before she could get too excited, I warned her that there were "concerns." She was very kind, responded appropriately, and was shocked to hear that I am as far along as I am.

Funny, because I have been really conscious of how obviously pregnant I look lately, to the point of employing various techniques used by wardrobe and makeup staff on TV shows where the actress is pregnant but the character is not (creating angles and distractions by drawing attention upward, interesting placement of scarves and other accessories, appearing to be engrossed in magazines and newspapers, sitting behind a desk...you get the picture). Good old DH looked at the extra-long Pucci scarf I awkwardly draped around my neck the other morning and smiled as he commented, "No would would ever know" and sent me off to work with a kiss.

So long, Byron

We received sad news yesterday that DH's best friend's dog, Byron, had been hit by a car and died during their weekend trip to the country. I've had many dogs in my life, all of whom I've loved, but even I have to admit that Byron was the best dog in the whole world. He was handsome, charming, sweet, well-mannered, and loved by everyone in the neighborhood. He was a wonderful friend. Yesterday was a hard day for all of us. Goodbye, old chap. We'll miss you.

My other babies...

...Sylvester and Seamus, who fight over who gets to sleep with mommy.

On stress

Poor papi woke up with a horrible rash on his back on Tuesday. My guess that it was shingles was properly diagnosed by a doctor yesterday. On top of the discomfort of the rash itself, he's also got a horrible cough and flu-like symptoms that typically accompany shingles. The doctor says I should be okay since I've had chicken pox (shingles can only occur in those who have had chicken pox, and is only worrisome for those who have not been exposed to the chicken pox virus). Still, it's not pretty, and just goes to show how stressed DH truly is.

On the theme of stress, I'm happy to report that we had another good ECG this morning--Natalie's heart is still looking good, and the rest of her is measuring according to dates. The doctors were nice enough to see us before the office opened at 8am, so we were out of the hospital by 10:30am, once I'd had my glucose challenge test (the screening test for gestational diabetes, which involves drinking a bottle of disgusting syrupy sweet liquid, then having a blood test an hour later). I'm not worried about GD, but apparently the doctors are worried about pre-eclampsia since I had it at the end of my pregnancy with Julian. Even though my blood pressure wasn't too worrying and there was no protein in my urine, I got sent home with the 24-hour urine collection kit for the second time in this pregnancy, which means I know what I'll be doing on Sunday. Ugh.

I've noticed lately that, although my coping mechanisms are set on high in terms of dealing with stress, instead of "not sweating the small stuff," my responses seem to be the opposite. I can handle the life and death stuff. I've been there before, and that kind of stress has become like an unpleasant, but familiar dark tunnel. It's life's daily challenges that send me into a tizzy. Making minor decisions (chicken or fish?), scheduling meetings, and trying to find a cleaner who will wash my down comforter are enough to send me over the edge (apparently, it's easier and cheaper to find someone to wax my nether regions than it is to get someone to wash a freaking duvet in this town). DH and I hadn't planned on a vacation during this pregnancy for safety reasons, but I'm starting to think one may be in order before I go too crazy. After all, I've already deluded myself into thinking that if I walk really quickly and wear lots of makeup and jewelry when I'm unable to avoid showing my face, I'll have this baby and no one will be any the wiser. I may not be fooling anyone with my attempts at "passing," but I'm happy to say that this approach has helped me to avoid a whole other kind of stress. So far.

Three's a charm

I'm so happy to report that we had our third problem-free fetal echocardiogram this afternoon, and we only needed to spend 3 hours in the hospital today! In other good news, Natalie has been very active lately, and I've been feeling a little less nauseous from the medication (still a bit spacy during the day, though). In case anyone wants to know, I also had success in procuring a minimally painful bikini wax, done by a very nice older Eastern European woman who was quick, thankfully kept her chatter to a minimum, and didn't ask too many questions about the baby. Score! Keep sending those good vibes our way, everyone!

I'm not crazy

So I went to see my shrink, Dr. B., yesterday, to fill her in on what's been going on these past few weeks. I should say here (psychiatry gets such a bad rep that I feel like I have to stick up for it) that Dr. B. is great--she is one of the only Black female psychiatrists here in the city, and I've known her for several years, so she takes my whole person into account, not my post-Julian self. Anyway, our time together always feels like a conversation about current events between two educated, rational people, never anything creepy or manipulative as Tom Cruise and his friends might have you believe. She asked if my team of doctors felt that there was any problem with my taking Zoloft and I said no, but that I had some concerns about taking it during my third trimester, given recent studies that show that newborn Zoloft babies are often shaky and irritable. Julian was certainly crabby during his brief life, and required sedation, but I suspect that had more to do with his bad heart and not enjoying all the medical intervention he was subjected to. Dr. B. suggested that I cut back to 25mg for the next several weeks, then to 12.5mg, then finally wean in my last 6 weeks. I have to say that I am a little surprised that she finds me sufficiently un-crazy enough to wean at this point. I thought for sure she's say no way, and I'd be like, oh well, I tried. Now that she's given me the go ahead, I'm a little nervous. What will I do without "mother's little helper?" Here goes nothing.

I hate goodbyes

I had my last acupuncture session with Janine today, and inevitably got very teary-eyed when we said our goodbyes. After all, I've been spending more quality time with this person for the past eight months than anyone else I know, with the exception of DH. She is one of the most genuinely compassionate and peaceful souls I have ever met (must be her Buddha-nature), and I am really going to miss her. She hugged me and wished me and the baby well, and I know she was moved too. She left me with the dietary advice to eat chicken hearts (some Chinese medicine cure for weak hearts). Um, yeah, I'll get right on that.

In other news, I am trying to focus on remaining calm and hopeful about bringing Natalie home. I think I am doing a pretty good job, but I have curbed my baby shopping for the time being. I just can't bear it right now. It makes me feel foolish. Instead, I spent $200 on cosmetics this weekend (doh!). I may feel like crap, but at least I will look good! Speaking of which, I fear it's time for the dreaded bikini wax (forget about DH, this is just so I can stand myself!).

Signs of good things: I have been having lots of dreams lately, two involving me babysitting the same baby (a certain infant heart transplant recipient/local celebrity) and really enjoying holding and caring for him, despite my real-world vow that I will not hold another baby until my next one arrives safely in my arms. The second good sign is that my replacement driver's license arrived today. This is the last of the replacement items I have been awaiting since my wallet was stolen 3 weeks ago. The DMV said 4-6 weeks, but it only took 2. It's amazing how quickly everything was resolved. I also found a new wallet at an extremely low price to replace the stolen fancy-schmancy wallet I searched so long for. It's not ideal, but it will do.

Six:

The number of new white hairs found on my head in the last two weeks.

Still Natalie

After 6 long hours spent in various parts of the hospital (summary: 1 fetal echo, 1 EKG, 1 blood draw, 1 abdominal ultrasound, and 1 transvaginal ultrasound--fun!), I am happy to report that Natalie's heart is still looking good, her hands appear to be normal, and there is still no sign of a penis. Dr. G. recommended that I stay on digoxin, but suggests that I try splitting the dose between morning and evening to see if that makes a difference in the nausea and dizziness I am feeling. We're still on for weekly visits, most likely until delivery. (DH thinks he has acquired the skills of operating both echo and ultrasound machines, after carefully studying the hospital technicians for several weeks at this!)

Thanks to my friend, Pam, for the thoughtful gift of Preggie Pops and Ginger Chews, to Lisa for the cookie basket, and to all of you for your continued thoughts and wishes for us and our little girl.

Girl, boy, polydactyl??

As if we didn't have bigger issues to worry about, my OB's office called yesterday to tell me that they'd scheduled an ultrasound for me after my echo on Friday (tomorrow). Since they didn't say why, and I've already had two ultrasounds and two echos in the past few weeks, this unexpected news really freaked me and DH out. I spoke to the nurse practitioner this morning and she told me that during last week's echo, someone thought they saw "something on the baby's hand." "Something, like what?" I asked. "An extra digit," she replied. WTF? The cardiologists performing the echo last week even commented that we shouldn't trust anything they had to say about any other part of the baby's anatomy, because they could say that the baby's left butt cheek was larger than the right and it wouldn't have anything to do with anything, since they aren't experts in this area. So why are they going around telling people that my baby may have six fingers? Ugh! I am oversimplifying everything, and I really love all umpteen doctors we find ourselves involved with and know that they are trying to give us every possible reassurance, but c'mon. So tomorrow we get to spend another several hours in the hospital to a) make sure Natalie's heart is still okay and b) find out if she has six fingers or five fingers and one penis, which my mother suspects may be the case. The suspense is killing me!

Digoxin daze

It seems that some of the unpleasant, yet common side effects of digoxin have started to kick in big time. The diarrhea has subsided, thankfully, which I attribute to Kate's helpful pineapple juice suggestion. However, the nausea, headaches, and vomiting persist, as does the most fun side effect of all: confusion. Huh? I feel a little dizzy, my brain feels fuzzy and slow, and I generally feel pretty out of it.

The "didge," as Dr. K. affectionately calls it, has been around for over 200 years and is derived from the foxglove plant, digitalis, so I feel pretty comfortable taking it, especially if it is helping Natalie (mother=martyr, as my friend A. put it), but these next four months of feeling a little dazed and confused are going to be interesting, to say the least.

What I am listening to

I love Beth Orton's appropriately titled "Comfort of Strangers," particularly the song, "Conceived." Check out the amusingly quirky and happy-making video here.

Conceived (Lyrics by Beth Orton)

Want to keep your dream alive?
Can I keep it with mine?
But I'm no good for you I suppose when you get a cold idea
You still hold me close at night
Never liked you any less
And the world’s not such a friendly place, is it?
It can grow very cold, very quickly, and for a very long time
If the sun, with some twist of fate, starts giving out it's shine
Some of the time the future comes right ‘round to haunt me
Some of the time the future comes 'round just to see
That all is as it could be
Like it's there to remind me
We've got to wait and see
Can I still be conceived
In a loveless embrace
Still we learn to be a warm sun
Around a very cold galaxy
It's just like you said it could be
Oh, it's like you said it would be
Some of the time the future comes right 'round to haunt me
Some of the time the future comes 'round just to see
That all is as it should be
Like it's there to remind me
We've got to let it be
Some of the time the future comes right 'round to haunt me
Some of the time the future comes 'round just to see
That all is as it could be
And it's there to remind me
We've got to wait and see
We’ve got to let it be, yeah
Wait and see, wait and see

Our girl, Natalie

Thank you, George Burns.

And thanks so, so, so very much to all of you for your collective good will, thoughts, prayers, finger crossing, emails, calls, cards, offers of help, and overall positive energy. Here's what we know as of today:

1. Natalie's heart looks better today than it did last Friday.
2. Collective good will works wonders.
3. Digoxin may be having a beneficial effect on Natalie's heart.
4. Doctors don't know/can't explain everything.
5. Geneticists may have a tendency toward pessimism.
6. Doctors who truly care for you may be moved to tears and emotional displays if they find anything that suggests a less than perfect outcome for you and your family.
7. The head of the pediatric heart center at the #1 hospital in NYC is no "Miss Mary Sunshine," and while he could never give us a clean bill of health based on his knowledge of our history and what he and his colleagues saw last week, he doesn't think we should walk around assuming that the outcome of this pregnancy will be the same as the last. He hasn't ruled out the possibility that Julian's condition was genetic, or that Natalie's heart will worsen, but felt that what he saw today was the best we could possibly hope for.
8. I will still need to continue taking digoxin and having weekly fetal echocardiograms, but for today, we'll take any good news we get.

Still not okay

Thanks so much to everyone for your collective good will, as Laura put it. You have been amazing, and we really appreciate all the positive thoughts, care, and concern being sent our way.

I don't have any new information to report, but after speaking to the geneticist this morning (who also happened to work with Julian), we are feeling less hopeful than we did over the weekend. Although we were initially told that our chances for recurrence were only 2-3% because genetic disorders were ruled out in Julian's case, we were also cautioned that sometimes the only way to know for sure if something is genetic is if it happens again. It sounds like if the doctors were betting money on it, they would say that this is one of those rare cases. If so, that means that our chances of recurrence are more like 1 in 4, which doesn't bode well for our chances of raising a healthy biological child. That, and the idea of interrupting this pregnancy are two of the worst things I could ever have imagined, and here they are staring us in the face.

The only thing we can do right now is wait and hope, but hope seems to fade the more we think things over and talk to the doctors. I started the digoxin, which I seem to be tolerating okay, minus the nausea, diarrhea, and headaches (which may also be caused by my emotional state), and on Wednesday, a team of 50 doctors will be reviewing our case. We go back on Friday for a follow-up ultrasound, fetal echo, and EKG for me to make sure the medication hasn't had any ill effects on my heart.

Stay tuned.

Everything is NOT okay

Dr. Glickstein's happiness to see us today soon turned into caution and worry. After an hour of being poked and prodded by three different people, Dr. G. was not able to tell us what we wanted to hear. Although the baby's heart is structurally and anatomically normal, there are some "leaky valves" in her heart (I believe this is technically called tricuspid regurgitation, or TR) that concern Dr. G., given her knowledge of our history. She admitted that she just didn't know what could be causing this, but that it wasn't great, and that it could be nothing, or it could be a sign of a trisomy of some sort, or it could be an early sign of cardiomyopathy. The fact that she cried was not a good sign. I am being put on Digoxin in hopes that it will pass the placenta and help the baby's heart, and we are now back to December 2004, when our weekly care was put in the hands of a team of doctors, including geneticists, cardiologists, obstetricians, and sonographers, and we just have to play a waiting game. The doctors' main concern at this point is getting us all the information we need before I reach 23 weeks and 6 days, the deadline for you know what. I don't even want to think about it. I am numb. I don't know what else to say or what to do with myself.

Debbie Downer

That's me. I just had my wallet stolen, unbeknownst to me, until I went to pay for a cab home. I know I didn't lose it, because I don't lose things, and it was right in my bag where it belongs until it wasn't anymore. I'm so mad! So, why does that make me a Debbie Downer, you may ask? Because apart from it being a total drag to have to cancel my cards, reorder new IDs, and replace my best wallet, I can't help but think of this as some kind of omen. Like on Sunday, I knew something was going to happen to Tony on the "Sopranos," and I knew that Dana was going to die on the "L Word."

I know these stories are just fictional, but sometimes I think life works like that too, foreshadowing and all. The day Julian was diagnosed with a fatal heart condition, Robert and I missed the bus and had trouble getting a cab in a spot where there's never a problem. The sun was shining, we were both in terrific moods, then we were late to our appointment and everything went downhill from there. I have been doing a good job ignoring tomorrow until now. I just have to point out that even if everything looks fine tomorrow, it still won't be enough, because everything looked fine with Julian until 10 days before he was born. And that's not just me being all doom-and-gloom, it's a simple fact.

Back to reality

You may have noticed that I have been in some sort of la-la-land lately, what with the shopping sprees and what not. Perhaps this has been my way of keeping my mind off seeing Dr. Glickstein on Friday for our first of several fetal echocardiograms that Natalie and I will be subjected to over the next few months, and probably Natalie's first year.

Julie Glickstein, pediatric cardiologist, is one of the most forthright and compassionate physicians I have ever met. She was tremendously kind and helpful to us when she diagnosed Julian with cardiomyopathy in utero, and was there for us during the days following his birth, and months following his death. Although she has pretty much seen it all, she was clearly shaken by the rarity and timing of the onset of Julian's condition, and vowed never to let that happen to us again. Realistically, DH and I know that there is no way for her to guarantee us a successful outcome, but I also know that we trust and respect this woman's judgment immensely after pretty much having put our son's life in her hands.

We haven't seen her in over a year, so I expect that the meeting will be filled with anxiety and emotion. A few weeks ago, DH said that he hoped Natalie would grow up to be a doctor like Dr. Glickstein. While it's pretty moving in a Lifetime movie sort of way to think that Natalie could devote her life to curing the disease that killed her brother, my biggest hope for her at this point is that she grows up, period.

By popular demand...

Here are Natalie's three prettiest dresses: (left to right) purple velvet cap sleeve dress by Petit Bateau; striped wrinkle textured dress by Alibama; yellow and aqua sleeveless dress by da-di-da. (Dear Natalie, now that you have ears, I know that you can hear me when I tell you that you are already one very much loved and spoiled little girl, and that you MUST come home so you can wear all the lovely outfits mummy and daddy picked out for you.)

Officially half pregnant!

20 weeks today! Natalie's official crown to rump length and weight are approximately equal to that of a container of Eden Organic Gomasio, which I know because I weighed everything in the kitchen to give DH a good point of reference. I also listened to her heartbeat (a healthy 157) and was able to hear her making lots of loud big movements, which I should be able to feel any day now.

This was a nice reward after spending Thursday and Friday in jury duty, until eventually, the judge let me off due to my high risk pregnancy and associated time constraints. I probably wasn't likely to be chosen to serve on this particular jury anyway, but the trial was expected to last 3-4 weeks. He was very kind, and expressed his sympathies for my loss (there's a section on the juror questionnaire where you are asked to enter the gender and age of your children--I wrote "one son, deceased"), and wished me luck this time around. I did a pretty good job of holding it together, then ran to the bathroom and cried for 5 minutes before leaving the courthouse. After that, I went to Century 21 and bought Natalie an Italian designer dress to wear on her first birthday--the first of five dresses I bought her this weekend.

More random thoughts

Getting dressed in the morning is becoming a dilemma: would I prefer to look like a hippo or a half-prego? This morning, I decided on hippo. Modern maternity clothes are stylish, but all about showing off your "bump" (can I just say that I hate that term? I look like I am carrying two footballs instead of a basketball), and I really don't feel like being "out" at work, so I will just let everyone think that I'm letting myself go for the time being and wear my non-maternity fat clothes.

I have been feeling fairly okay lately, thanks in part to DH, acupuncture, ADs, getting past the first trimester, the weather, my blood pressure monitor, my SPALS friends, and fellow bloggers. Also, I think I have gotten to the point where I've accepted the fact that I have no control over the outcome of this pregnancy. What is the equivalent of "Let go and let God" for non-theists? That is pretty much how I feel. At least for now.

DH has been super-cute lately. He is so excited about his little girl, and has mentioned several times already how he can't wait to have her in his arms. (Neither can I). It's looking to me like Natalie is going to be one spoiled little princess, and it won't be anything to do with me! We went to the Carter's outlet to buy some girly basics to supplement the gender neutral wardrobe we already have lined up, and DH was not pleased with any of the selections. I ended up getting 5 outfits for $25, but I know he was less than impressed. I guess he will just have to shell out the $$ for Oilily. He was never this picky about boy clothes.

Lastly, for my weekly vent, I would like to say that I wish well-meaning friends would think before they speak with regard to my current pregnancy and/or the baby. I feel like I'm venting about this all the time, but I haven't yet this week, so please excuse me. Examples of comments that have bugged me recently: "When you have a baby..." (we already had a baby), "Be careful what you wish for" (speaking about living children, as if we should feel lucky that our son died because kids can be a pain in the butt sometimes), "I hope you don't expect another present" (if meant as a joke, it was not funny), and a whole bunch of other silly comments I don't have the energy to remember that seem to deny that this is my second baby, that I have already experienced childbirth and motherhood, and that I've already thought about things like parenting and childcare, even if I didn't get to raise Julian.

It's a...

[drumroll, please]

...GIRL! The ultrasound today was a bit anti-climactic on several levels, actually. Firstly, DH and I and everyone we know were already pretty convinced it was a girl. Secondly, she wasn't very active this morning, so the ultrasound wasn't very much fun. Well, it was as much fun as getting poked in one's fat gut for 30 minutes can be, anyway. Finally, after talking it through and wondering if we were horrible parents for not being all giddy with excitement, DH and I realized that we were both a little sad. After all, in a perfect world, we would have a boy and a girl.

Analytical stuff aside, of course we are thrilled. Maybe all parents are a little more blase the second time around. It certainly doesn't mean that I don't love both my children equally, because I absolutely do.

I know that choosing a name and/or sharing it so early on might seem a bit taboo to some, but I believe that everyone deserves to have a name, no matter what. So, since I promised to share, please give a warm pre-welcome to Natalie Juliana. We can't wait to meet her!

My second favoritest quadroon

I'd like to take a pop-culture time out to give a shout out to my favorite Jewish-Native-Black-Italian fashion designer, Santino Rice. I've seen the Fashion Week photos, and his designs were FIERCE! Go, Santino! (Dear Santino, if you win Project Runway and you read this, I would love to take you on a date to Red Lobster! xoxo)

There's a first time for everything

Firstly, thanks to everyone out there in Bloglandia for having my back with regard to my last post. I don't know how I would have made it this far, nor would I like to imagine how I would make it through these next several months without you all!

So, last night I was invited, along with a few of my fellow alumni, to a small dinner gathering of students from our alma mater who are here in the city this week for a brief internship program.
When I first got the invitation, my gut reaction was, "Oh no, a gathering of strangers. What if someone asks if I have children?" I quickly dismissed that thought as irrational, as did DH. After all, why on earth would some stranger ask me such a question, especially out of context?

Well, guess what? Someone asked. And as I pondered the many possible responses to that question in my mind (one, one and a half, two, but...), what came of my mouth was, "Uhhhh........no." It was a little awkward, but not nearly as traumatic as I imagined it would be. I only had that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach for about a minute afterward.

In the past year or so, I have never been faced with the need to deny Julian's existence, and when the topic has come up on discussion boards, etc., I could never imagine a situation where I would feel comfortable replying, "No, I don't have any children," or "Yes, this is my first pregnancy." In the past when I have been asked, I have always replied honestly, even if I knew it would make the other person uncomfortable or bring me to tears. My response last night just felt more comfortable at the time, and I didn't feel guilty about it, just a little sad.

Oh, and then someone passed around a photo of her baby girl, which I wasn't expecting either. I didn't look. I guess there's just no getting away from this stuff, even in situations in which you would least expect it to come up. Sigh.

It's my party...

It seems some people think I should play the role of the (need I point out, stereotypical?) strong super-woman, or the stoic survivor. Since it's still technically February, I'ma go 'head and play my bonus race card: can't a sister (or half-sister) show some emotion without being perceived as angry? In the past year, anger has had its turn as my most prominent feeling, right there along with fear, anxiety, resentment, sadness, isolation, guilt, and despair. However, I wouldn't say it's been as dominant lately. Not that there would be anything wrong with me if it were.

I know Gwyneth, Gwen, Katie, and Brooke would all be, among other things, pissed if any of their babies didn't make it, causing their friends to disappear, their families to distance themselves, their colleagues to avoid them, and their lives to practically fall apart before them. And I know they'd be just a tad miffed if Angelina, Christy, Jennifer, and Ashley didn't bother to do so much as send a card, or speak their baby's name, or treat them as though they were still mothers.

...and I'll cry (or feel whatever) if I want to.

Only 160 days left to go!

Firstly, I just have to say that anyone who knows me well will know that the baby countdown ticker I have added to my blog is meant to be just a tad ironic. In fact, I have some issues with the whole concept, as I know too well that a slightly distasteful graphical countdown doesn't guarantee that I will end up with a perfect and perfectly healthy mixed race baby in my arms at the end of 40 weeks like the image would suggest. But something happened to me this weekend. For the first time in a long time, I felt impossibly giddy about having another baby. I want the baby here NOW!

That being said, I still don't feel like telling anyone at work, which is starting to become difficult since I think I started showing last week, and I am already starting to walk funny. I wasn't anticipating this as I didn't start to show until much later with Julian, as I recall. Someone at work who I told about my pregnancy in confidence told someone else, who actually had the nerve to congratulate me, even though I hadn't told her personally. I gave her a look of death that asked why on earth she would dare approach me about something so personal without my mentioning it first. She backed off, but it made me realize that there are probably a lot of other people who know or have guessed as well. If so, at least they have the sense to keep their mouths shut.

The wonders of technology

Listen to baby N's* heartbeat at 16 weeks, made possible by my BabyBeat Doppler and EarlySounds Recorder.

*Yes, the baby has a name, which will be officially released in 2 weeks when we will hopefully learn that things are progressing normally and get to take a peak at the baby's girl or boy parts!

Frivolous post about frivolous baby things

I am pleased to report that I may have reached a point where I can be excited about frivolous baby things. At least where my brand new Tumi Baby Messenger Bag in Yam (pictured above) is concerned. I never got around to buying a diaper bag when I was pregnant with Julian because I couldn't make up my mind. You could say that I've been researching and testing various baby bags, ranging from your basic $30 Do-It-All Diaper Bag from Lands' End to the ridiculously priced $450 Burberry Novacheck diaper tote, for the past two years. Although it may seem like a minor issue to some, I do feel like a diaper bag is the one personal accessory that mothers of babies and small children can use to express their pre-baby style when budget allows.

I find Coach bags too heavy, and Kate Spade bags too fussy (plus, I can't stand the velcro). I have also considered the trendy celebrity favorites, such as OiOi, Reese Li, Petunia Pickle Bottom, Timi & Leslie, and Fleurville, but have been disappointed with certain features, such as non-adjustable straps, fabric that stains or snags easily, lack of organization, cutesy design, etc.

My new Tumi bag is amazing and perfect for the following reasons:

• It has a magical no-fuss magnetic closure (no velcro!).
• It's lightweight and easy to clean.
• The adjustable strap is long enough that I can wear the bag across my body, leaving my hands free.
• It is in proportion to my figure (i.e., big and bold enough that it doesn't make me look like a hippo).
• It's roomy with lots of organizational features, and comes with a changing pad and "dirties" bag.
• It has a very professional appearance, consistent with Tumi's other collections, making it perfect for a working mom.
• I got it for half off the retail price of $195 at the Tumi outlet (which explains why I got it in orange instead of black, in case you were wondering. I am trying to convince myself that it's much more stylish than the black version).

Breathe in, breathe out

I got my blood pressure machine the other day and let me tell you, it is the best thing ever. First of all, I am so relieved to see that my blood pressure is totally fine when taken in the comfort and safety of my own home. Secondly, aside from it being a monitoring device, it is also an educational tool. I have been using it to help myself understand what I can do to help bring it down by observing when it tends to be higher than usual.

I feel so much better just knowing that there isn't a physical problem with me (or the baby, as my trusty BabyBeat Doppler suggests) and that my blood pressure can be controlled by managing my stress. If it is high in the doctor's office again, I can point to "white coat syndrome," armed with my home measurements taken over time.

In case you think this might useful for you, too, after extensive research, I ordered the Omron HEM-780N2 Auto Inflate Blood Pressure Monitor with ComFit Cuff (fits up to 17" arms!) from Amazon.com for $66.52.

While I was at it, I also ordered the following meditation CDs, which got good reviews:

• Guided Meditations: For Developing Calmness, Awareness, and Love, $14.95
• Health Journeys: Meditations to Support A Healthy Pregnancy & Successful Childbirth (Health Journeys), $17.98

The gift that keeps on giving

Check out this story on NPR. Apparently there may be more good reasons to reproduce. Researchers can't prove it yet, but I like the idea that Julian may have left behind some of his cells to protect me.

Is it July yet?

What a week. I don't know if it's hormones or what, but I have been so agitated and irritable that I can hardly stand the sound of DH's voice, and that's not like me at all. Especially considering the emotionally turbulent week that DH has had himself, due to a miserable cold, and a luncheon with the author, Julian Barnes on Tuesday. I won't go into it too much, because it's DH's deal, but being at an event where the guest of honor shared a name with our dearly departed infant son turned out to be a bit more than he could cope with, hearing people speak his name over and over and so forth. Plus, being in the book business, he had always planned on having new books signed "To Julian," so it's understandable why he nearly broke down when Julian Barnes asked who he'd like his copy of Arthur and George made out to. It broke my heart when he called me at work to tell me what had happened. Needless to say, it was a very tough night.

The good news is that the doppler has definitely helped calm some of our anxieties about the baby--it works like a charm, and the sound of the baby's heartbeat makes us smile even on the worst of days. The bad news is that I think I've replaced anxiety about the baby with anxiety about my own health and well-being. My blood pressure has been higher than usual, and that worries me since I had pre-eclampsia at the end of my pregnancy with Julian. So, I ordered a blood pressure monitor. Pretty soon, I'll have my own medical supplies center.

14 weeks - I made it!

I finally made it to the second trimester! I thought I'd never get here. The other night, I had a dream that I woke up to learn that I had miscarried the day before I reached the second trimester. I was obviously upset over the unfairness of the whole thing, considering that statistically, most miscarriages occur in the first trimester. Anyway, the point is that I'm here now, and as Martha would say, that's a good thing.

P.S. Can I just say for the record that I think this baby is a girl? I could be wrong, but I'm basing it partially on the amount of stress she's already caused me! We should be able to find out four weeks from now, but I want to put it in writing in order to prove that I knew all along. Bets, anyone?

TurboTax and Uncle Sam

Last year, we were able to proudly declare Julian on our federal tax return, since he was born alive within the calendar year. (As if mothers of stillborn babies don't feel cheated enough, the federal government acknowledges parents whose baby lived long enough to breathe at least one breath, but not those who carried a baby to term and lost him or her prior to, or even during childbirth). I obviously knew that we wouldn't be able to claim him again this year, but I didn't expect filing my taxes to be the emotional chore that it was.

I was filing our joint taxes using TurboTax last night in the kitchen while DH was cooking dinner, and one of the first questions that came up on the screen was something like "You claimed Julian as a dependent last year. Is this information accurate for this year?" I knew I would have to say no, but my only option was to click the "Delete" button to erase the entry from this year's return. DH was reading over my shoulder and asked if I was okay--he saw this coming. I thought I would be okay, but having to physically click the "Delete" button on my son's life was momentarily traumatic. I know DH was affected by it, too. A small part of me expected there to be a pop up window asking me to explain my action. But the system didn't ask, "What happened?" or "Did your child die?" or offer "I'm sorry for your loss." It just deleted Julian from its memory. Computers (and the IRS) can be downright cruel.

The verdict

I decided to go ahead and rent a doppler. I went with the Legacy display model from babybeat.com, based on the many recommendations I got from others. It was $123 for 3 months--a small price to pay for my peace of mind. Strangely, I feel better already, just from being able to make a decision and feeling like I have some control over something. I think three months is a sensible, not-too-OCD choice, since by that time, the baby will be big enough that I should be able to feel him or her move. (Then I will have the option to drive myself crazy with kick counts.) It should arrive on Monday or Tuesday. I'll let you know how it goes!

To doppler or not to doppler

I never thought I'd say this, but after this past week's episode, I am seriously considering renting a doppler. I am nervous about mentioning this to my doctor, as I have a feeling she might discourage it for fear that it will drive me crazier than I already am. (I swear I will talk to her about it, mom, don't worry!)

In the meantime, I polled the women of SPALS and received the following recommendations that may be helpful to someone else out there. If you have other recommendations, please let me know!

-9 out of 10 rent vs. own

-1 owner recommended a product by Nicolet Vascular, which can be rented from storkradio.com (physician Rx required)

-The following companies were recommended for rental:

• babybeat.com (7 recommendations)
• dynamicdoppler.com (1 recommendation)
• sweetbeats.net (1 recommendation, physician Rx required)
• bellybeats.com (1 recommendation)

-Rental fees range from $22-$49 per month. Multi-month pre-paid rentals andmonth-to-month rentals available. Most companies will apply rental feestoward the purchase of the doppler if you end up wanting to keep it.

(Not so) random acts of kindness

My husband's lovely co-worker, J, who is a regular reader of my blog, sent him home with a gift of delicious Jacques Torres chocolates to give to me, because she knew I had a trying week (thanks, J!). Of course, I was moved to tears over this simple act of kindness, generosity, and compassion, and it got me thinking about how conflicted I am at times about what kind of support I need to get through this pregnancy.

I typically don't enjoy discussing this pregnancy with most people (exceptions include my husband, my mother, my mother-in-law, my sisters-in-law, my doctor, my therapist, my friends who are therapists, other grieving mothers, and of course, anyone reading this), for fear that any memory of Julian will be lost in others' excitement about the new baby. On the other hand, I do appreciate emotional support, and respect for the fact that I am simultaneously grieving my first baby while looking ahead to my hopes for the next one. I'm not usually a very needy person, but hugs, chocolates, flowers, cards, and baked goods are always appreciated! :)

Emotional breakdown #1

After my fun Sunday at home, peeing into a jug, I got up early and headed to the hospital for a drop-off and to get my BP checked. I was seen by a nurse rather quickly, and was very surprised to learn that my blood pressure had shot up to 140/80 since Friday when it was 120/80. However, my urine tested negative for protein, although it had tested positive on Friday. There's always something.

The nurse practitioner, who I really like, came in to talk to me and reassure me that everything was still fine, and at that point I asked if she could check the baby's heartbeat because I was getting a little freaked out, and over the weekend had worried that my symptoms were disappearing. She was so kind and could tell that I was getting worried, and said she'd check my blood pressure again, too. She spent what seemed like an eternity trying to find the baby's heartbeat. All the while, I was staring at the ceiling, thinking about how I'd have to take this week off work to schedule a D&C.

Eventually, she called in a nurse, who seemed to have a special technique, and found the heartbeat very very low on my left side after a few minutes (good thing I waxed yesterday!). They both seemed very relieved and reached to comfort me, at which point I had my first major emotional breakdown of this pregnancy. I had my blood pressure taken again a few minutes later and it had gone down to 128/80.

The nurse practitioner rubbed my back and reassured me again that things were okay, and confirmed that yes, this pregnancy is going to be full of these ups and downs, that every test is going to cause my level of anxiety to go up, and that it will basically feel like the longest 9 months of my life.

UPDATE, 12:30pm

Just got a call from the nurse practitioner with the official results of my early risk assessement for Down's and Trisomies 13 and 18. And the results are: 1/10,000--as good as it gets.

Jug-o-pee

After a protein-in-my-urine scare at my 12 week check-up on Friday, I got sent home with a huge jug labeled "24 Hour Urine Collection Kit" and "Biohazard" to fill over the weekend. That was fun to bring home on the bus. Because I had pre-eclampsia (pregnancy induced hypertension) during the last few days of my pregnancy with Julian, probably related to polyhydramnios (excess amniotic fluid), my doctor is being extra cautious. Protein in the urine this early is likely a fluke, thus the need for a 24 hour sample to rule out anything scary. Even knowing that she is just being cautious, and this is why I am seeing a high risk OB, it is still scary. Tomorrow will be my third visit to the hospital in a week and I am only 13 weeks. Maybe I should love the attention, and it will all hopefully be worth it in the end, but its tough to have this pregnancy treated like a serious medical condition, compared with my blissfully ignorant pregnancy with Julian. On a positive note, I did get to hear the baby's heartbeat on the Doppler on Friday, which was surprisingly easy to find and was in the 150s. I'm going to ask the nurse to listen again tomorrow when I drop off my jug-o-pee.

Something else to check off the list

The screening went well today, despite the typical 1 hour long wait, followed by 45 minutes of being poked and prodded, then finally a blood draw. Nuchal fold measurements of my uncooperative, Mexican jumping bean of a baby were taken via abdominal ultrasound by a technician, who then decided that she needed to do a vaginal ultrasound to get a better picture since I am "thick" (thankfully, she did not use the word, "fat"). Eventually she called in a doctor (never a comforting sign), who was a little more confident in his poking and prodding, and concurred with her measurements. It's good that he was there, actually, because he was able to assure me that the measurement was normal, and not indicative of Down's, which the technician wouldn't have been able to speak to, either way. Luckily, I didn't feel the need to vomit until I was on my way out of the hospital. Success!

12 week update

Well, I'm feeling a little better since my last post, probably due to a combination of the following:

1. extra 25mg of crazy pills
2. acupuncture treatment for anxiety and morning sickness
3. bigger belly = evidence of a growing baby + passage of time (can you tell I am impatient?)
4. no more holidays or anniversaries for a while, no more 2005 ever
5. attempts to focus on the supports I do have, rather than those who have disappointed me
6. realization that I have the choice not to tell anyone about this pregnancy until they absolutely need to know, which will probably have the bonus effect of making the pregnancy seem shorter since I will have less time to worry about potentially idiotic/unhelpful/hurtful comments/questions/advice

I have my FASTER (First and Second Trimester Evaluation of Risk) screening for Down's Syndrome and other aneuploidies tomorrow (also known as a nuchal translucency test). Wish me luck!

Like a Calgon commercial

I have been feeling very stressed and grouchy since returning from vacation last week. I'm sure a lot of it is hormonal, but I also have this strong desire to go into hibernation for the next 7 months, to avoid everyone and everything until I wake up with a baby in my arms. What's keeping me sane is knowing that I get to start seeing Janine, my acupuncturist, again next week. She and the treatments really help take the edge off. I got a message from her during the holidays, checking in to see how I was doing and how my appointment with my new OB went (the new doc is great, by the way). I spoke to Janine today, and she was genuinely excited to hear from me and to know that things are going well so far. She is so kind to me that it makes me cry. When I was seeing her when I was trying to get pregnant, I completely fell in love with her and truly felt that she was the only person on the face of the earth who was making any attempt to help me whatsoever. (That's not really true, but I was feeling dramatic.) The fact that her magic needles and calming presence actually worked make me love her all the more.

Hang in there, peanut.

So far, so good (phew). New EDD (based on LMP) = 7/30/06.

I am a bird now

In loving memory of Julian Innes Fader (12/20/04 - 12/23/04)

"Still Here" - Jill Scott

I am a boisterous river
I am a mountains story
I am a quiet feeling
I am a fragrant flower
I am a moonlit evening
I am a peaceful night
I am a writers thinking
I am a wealth unfathomed
And if you don’t recognize my presence, I am here
And if you don’t recognize me, I am here
I am a source of power
I am excited journey
I am the rock of patience
I am a whisper singing
I am unbridled freedom
I am the thought from thinking
I am a love unshattered
I am the great orgasm
And if you don’t recognize my presence, I am here
And if you don’t recognize my presence, I am here
And even if you don’t recognize me, I‘m still here
And even if you don’t recognize me
And even if you don’t recognize me, I‘m still here
And even if you don’t recognize me, I am, oh, I’m still here
Even if you don’t recognize me, I’m here, I’m here, I’m here

[The title of this post is taken from one of this year's most powerful albums, by Antony & The Johnsons.]

Happy birthday, Julian

Our beautiful son Julian came into the world a year ago on 12/20 at 7:10pm, with a head full of dark hair and beautiful brown eyes. He weighed 6 pounds, 3 ounces,and measured 19 inches long. I spent my whole pregnancy trying to picture what he would look like, but when I met him for the first time, it was likeI had known him for my whole life. It was at the same time the proudest and the saddest moment of my life because I knew that the time I would have with him would be limited. Julian struggled to be with us for 3 days before he died of heart failure caused by dilated cardiomyopathy. He only gave up the fight for his life when my husband and I held him and told him we loved him and that it was okay to let go, that he didn't need to be strong for us.

My husband, Robert and I spent the day together in quiet reflection (slightly distracted by the NYC transit strike). We are so thankful for each other and for the handful of family and friends who did manage to acknowledge Julian on what would have been his first birthday.

What not to say to a SPALS mom

I am only 5 1/2 weeks pregnant and already, I have been making a mental list of "What not to say to a subsequently-pregnant-after-a-loss mom." People can be really clueless. In no particular order, here are my new guidelines for how to behave around a SPALS mom such as myself:

1. Don't keep asking a woman who has suffered through pregnancy or infant loss if she is "pregnant yet." Planning a subsequent pregnancy is not exactly a joyous experience (especially when it doesn't happen quickly), and constant inquiries only add to the stress and isolation she feels on a daily basis.

2. If and when she does inform you of her subsequent pregnancy, be happy for her, but not overly celebratory. If she lost a full-term baby, she is bound to feel very vulnerable and anxious during her subsequent pregnancy, and knows too well that a positive pregnancy test doesn't automatically guarantee a successful pregnancy or a live healthy baby at the end of 9 months. She needs your care and support, but not a cheerleader. If you're unsure about the appropriate tone, follow her lead.

3. Don't perceive her new pregnancy as a sign that she has "moved on" or is "over" the baby she lost. She will never be over it, and will probably struggle a great deal with how to celebrate her pregnancy and bond with the new baby, while continuing to grieve for the baby who died.

4. Similarly, if you haven't done such a good job of listening to, supporting, visiting, or staying in touch with her since her baby died, don't take the announcement of the new pregnancy as a signal for you to try to resume your friendship where you left off before she lost her baby, as though you are relieved that she is "normal" and back to her "old self" again. Not only is this a false perception, but she may resent this kind of fair-weather friendship and may even be reluctant to tell you about her pregnancy for fear that you will respond in such a way.

5. Don't assume that she no longer wants to talk about the baby who died. Most SPALS moms love it when you remember their babies, especially (but not only) on anniversaries and holidays.

6. Don't assume that she now wants to hear about other peoples' pregnancies or other peoples' babies. Despite the fact that she is herself pregnant, she may feel very removed from those who have had an easy time of getting pregnant and bringing home a baby. Try to continue to be as sensitive and mindful about what you say to her (and within earshot of her) as you hopefully would have been during the months immediately following the death of her baby.

7. Please do try to keep your feelings about God, religion, etc. to yourself in relation to her pregnancy and/or the baby she lost (i.e., references to "God's will," "God's plan," "angels," or her "faith"). It is possible to offer secular or non-religious responses that sound more sincere and authentic than those that may be meaningless to her, depending upon her beliefs. Otherwise, there is a risk that your truly supportive sentiments may be clouded by religious imagery that she may be offended by if she is an agnostic, atheist, or has a nontheistic worldview.

Baby #2, EDD 8/3/06

Something else to be thankful for... Finally, a BFP!

Giving thanks

We passed on our usual Thanksgiving with friends in favor of hanging out alone together in the city and seeing a movie. I just couldn't bear the idea of being around a bunch of happy people who seem to have everything in the world to be thankful for at the moment. I decided long ago that I didn't want to participate in any sort of holiday celebration this year, especially not the kind that involve the concept of family, generosity, good will, cheer, or the entire month of December.

That being said, I know that I do have a lot to be thankful for. I have an amazing, sensitive, kind, protective, and loving husband, who I wouldn't have made it through this last year without. I have a wonderful mother and stepdad, caring and supportive in-laws, two great cats, dear old friends who have managed to stick around, and treasured new friends who accept me for who I am today. Best of all, I have the joy of remembering the day we welcomed our beautiful son into the world, albeit for a brief time. Lots of people don't get to experience that much.

Babies Memorial Service

The hospital where Julian was born hosted a bilingual memorial service for babies who died after spending their brief lives there this afternoon at 2pm. I have been experiencing a constant, low-level anxiety all week leading up to this event. I guess I wasn't sure what to expect.

Apart from a few minor annoyances (way too many children, one of whom threw up too near to me; slight lack of organization; unnecessary and offensive opening remarks from the hospital chaplain who compared our collective loss to his golf game [did he really say that?] and claimed to know our pain because he has two children in their twenties [huh?] who were born in the same hospital), the service was very nice.

When we walked in, there was a board with a list of all the babies who had died in the hospital over the past year, as well as a board with photos we had submitted. I think about 50 families attended the service. There was also a program with writings many of the mothers had done for and/or about their children. The service included a few readings, some by parents, some by hospital staff.

One of the NICU nurses read the poem I wrote for Julian, which was quite moving. A woman with a lovely voice sang while her partner accompanied her on the piano. Then there was a candle lighting ceremony in which all the babies' names were read, and the families were invited to come light a candle in honor of their child(ren). The candles were decorated with the name of each baby (see above). Following the candle-lighting ceremony, we went out to the garden to plant bulbs around a tree dedicated in memory of all the NICU babies who didn't get to go home.

It was emotional as well as life-affirming to see all the children, the surviving siblings, enthusiastically plunging their hands into the soil. Of course, the downside is that we were also saddened by the fact that most of the other families had one or more living children, and we do not...

We drove home listening to Rufus Wainwright.

The Rules

[Borrowed from GabesMama. To see the complete list, go here.]

Rule 1: This is the mamma of all rules. If you could just do this one tiny thing, then I would be happy: don't get pregnant.
Rule 2: Almost no one will follow rule 1, so I will proceed from here.
Rule 3: Don't get pregnant two weeks after my son's funeral.
Rule 4: Don't show your amazingly beautiful belly off.
Rule 5: Don't tell anyone at work if you work in my office.
Rule 6: Don't have a shower of any kind.
Rule 7: Don't allow your co-workers to talk about how easy or hard they heard your labor was.
Rule 8: Don't e-mail your baby pictures to your co-workers so that they may get circulated around the office.
Rule 9: Don't put up pictures in your cube of your baby, and don't bring your baby into the office!
Rule 10: Don't have a baby with brown hair and brown eyes, that just hurts.

Cross-stitch from Rosemary

A very beautiful and touching cross-stitch by my sister-in-law, Rosemary, from the UK, using words from a poem I wrote for Julian.

Requisite celebrity baby rant

Sorry, but I have to take 2 seconds out to rant about the celebrity baby boom. Gwynnie is on #2, Donald Trump's new trophy wife is preggers, there are rumors about Angelina and Brad, Bennifer II is due any day now, and now Katie Holmes and that lunatic, Tom Cruise, are expecting. I take some comfort in the fact that the media gave us all a bit of a reprieve by completely ignoring the birth of the Spears-Federline baby (an obvious snub, since the baby was born via a planned c-section, which had been scheduled months ahead of time), but this is the last straw. Nicole Kidman and Jennifer Aniston must be devastated. And that poor JLo. When's it gonna be her turn? I'm right there with you, 'manita.