Sam-isms

Sam cracks me up. He makes me laugh constantly, and usually I'm so involved with trying to keep up with his antics, that I don't have time to write them down. But someday, years from now, when he brings a girl home to meet us, I better have a written record of his Sam-isms. So here's just a few sweet, cute, funny, and just plain Sam moments.

Nic's parents bought this really cute Fisher n' Price Christmas play set. It has a little Christmas tree, a sleigh, a reindeer, a Santa, etc. that Sam can play with. Nic was handing each of the pieces to Sam and asking him what it was. Sam's vocabulary has skyrocketed so we were getting "reindeer", and "Christmas tree". But when Nic handed Santa to Sam, Sam said, "Papa!" With Papa J's full white beard, we had to admit that Sam was right--there is quite the resemblance!

A couple of months ago, I decided to be brave and take the boys to Beauty and Beast being performed at a local high school. Nic had other things going on, so it was just a mommy and her boys date. We were doing really well at first. I brought snacks for Sam and alternate activities but we hadn't even broke into those yet. Sam was sitting next to me, enthralled with the production, and I was holding Mark, trying to get him to go to sleep. Suddenly Mark let out some very impressive canon fire and produced an epic diaper blow-out (of which I will not recount the details) that will go down in the records. I was trying to be discreet (with deadly sulphuric fumes coming from our section) and wait until the end of the song then quietly make our exit to deal with things. Sam, however, was not in on this plan. Sam immediately called out, "Baby toot! Ewww, gross! Baby pooey!" To whomever we were sitting by who happened to be filming the show, we apologize.

Last night we were at my parent's house hanging out. It was just my mom, my sister, Sam, Mark, and me. Well, for Christmas, we had given the cat, Sanders, some little play mice. At some point, I looked in the kitchen and saw the cat playing with what I thought was a toy. Then my sister saw him, and declared that it was a real mouse. I didn't believe her at first but as Sanders moved toward the living room, I could see the mouse, still alive, wriggling, as Sanders carried it by its tail. Pandemonium ensued--screams, climbing on furniture, calls for help. Finally, my sister was brave enough to try to get cat outside amongst my mom and me yelling at her not to make the cat drop the mouse. Mission accomplished, my sister, the brave warrior, returned to the living room only to fall on the floor laughing. We all looked at Sam, who had been silent through out the entire ordeal, and he was just standing there with his eyes and mouth open as wide as he could get them. He looked so funny! The perfect impersonation of the painting, The Scream.

We have a plastic Precious Moments nativity that Sam is able to play with. The other day he was going through each piece and naming it: the shepherd, Mary the mommy, Joseph, the donkey, the sheep, and Baby Jesus. Later, we were told that they were all sleeping and discovered the entire nativity set laying face down, rumps in the air, which is how Sam likes to sleep.

Nic surprised us by getting Christmas lights put up on our house. When Sam first saw the lights, he said, "Oh, pretty! Thank you, daddy!" And now, every time he sees the lights, he says that same thing.

Sam is pretty darn smart, and we like to show him off whenever we can. He can count to ten, sing the ABC's up to Q, and various other 'smart' things. The other day my parents were impressed by how many animal sounds he knew. They were trying to show Sam off to my Uncle Jerry, but Sam wasn't feeling like a performance. They kept asking him, "Sam, what does an owl say?" But he wouldn't respond. Finally, I guess he got tired of them asking, because he responded with a flat, slightly agitated, "It say hoo-hoo!" and then went back to playing without missing a beat.

Now for a tender moment: Christmas night, we were driving home from Nic's parent's house. We live close to an LDS temple, and as we drove past the temple, we could hear Sam in the back seat singing, "The temple is a house of God, a place of love and beauty..."The words and tune were so clear. It was a great reminder that Sam is listening and that I have the best present of all, my family forever.

Learning to Hold On

Click here to view this photo book larger

This is a book that I've been working on. I think/hope it's finally done. It's something that I've been thinking about for quite a long time. Let me know if you might be interested in purchasing a copy. (I'm self-publishing!) Also let me know if you see any editing issues.

Happy Veteran's Day

The kindness of a stranger

I will catch-up someday, but for now I will share a moment from today.
Sometimes (daily), I have these what-were-you-thinking motherhood moments. Today's great idea was to take the boys for a walk. We needed some groceries, the boys needed some fresh air, and it would kill some time before nap time (less time for Sam to destroy the house keeps the mom/maid happy). The grocery store is only about a mile from the house, and it seemed like nice weather. This all sounds good, hypothetically. I did not take into account the force or direction of the wind, however. As we made our way uphill toward the grocery store with a strong wind pushing against us, it felt like a major feat to push the stroller even one foot forward. Let it be noted that the stroller is like a tank and weighs about 130 lbs with Sam and the baby strapped on it.
So picture rosy-cheek Sam up front laughing into the wind, baby Mark on the back all bundled up in his carseat, and me huffing and puffing while pushing with all of my strength against the wind, tears streaming down my face and sweat running down my neck. I was starting to wonder what I was thinking when a car pulled up next to me. This guy explained that he had seen me crossing the road and that he wanted to thank me for all the hard work mothers do. Then he handed me five dollars and told me to treat myself and my kids to lunch or something. I was so taken aback by this stranger's kindness that I didn't know what to say. But I thanked him and smiled against the wind all the way to McDonald's where Sam discovered the joy of Happy Meals and an indoor playland.
On the way home, we crossed paths with an older gentleman who stopped me and, pointing to the boys, said, "This is what is important in life. Don't forget it." He gave my arm a squeeze and then was gone.
Did these two men know that yesterday I was feeling overwhelmed and burned out as a mommy? No, but Someone did. And I am so grateful for the encouragement. I hope all moms out there get this encouragement when they need it because being a mom really is something special. And you know, sometimes those what-were-you-thinking motherhood moments can turn out pretty darn good!

A Birth Story

Mark Emmitt Clay
born August 23, 2011
7 lbs 4 oz, 20 inches long

It has been a month since baby Mark was born, but here is the story of his grand entrance into the world (to the best of my recollection).

Let's begin this story the day before his birth. It was August 22nd, and I was a hormonal, emotional wreck. Because my little brother was getting married on Sept. 9th and giving me only two weeks from birth to wedding, and because Sam had shown up after his due date, we decided to induce on our due date. We could have been induced a week earlier, but I wanted to give the baby his full time in "Casa de Mama". For some reason, knowing the date and time of going into labor was really freaking me out. The baby was following the same patterns as Sam did in his final weeks...basically my boys like my luxurious womb (I'm pretty sure there is a big flat screen in there along with a Love Sac and possibly a pingpong table, thus explaining my enormous belly), and aren't in any rush to drop down and get into position for birth. Back to the emotional wreck. Nanny Manda was witness to my wreckage. She had arrived the week before to stay with us and help take care of Sam. I think she ended up taking more care of me! A bit of advice--the post-partum chapter in What to Expect When You're Expecting that everyone tells you not to read until after you have the baby should really not be read before you have the baby. I read it the day before and suddenly all the memories of the 'after' having a baby came flooding back. So the silly thing was I wasn't terrified about the labor and delivery (give me an epidural, and I'm fine), but instead, terrified about all the after stuff. I was a walking zombie after I had Sam. I was really sore, sleep deprived, and completely shell shocked by the big changes in my life. I think quitting my job as a teacher and becoming a stay-at-home mom was a bigger adjustment than I had anticipated. And I think I had some bouts of post-partum depression that manifested as paranoia to leave the house and insane insecurities about my abilities to be a good mother. And did I mention that I was really, really sore?

Anyway, these memories left me sobbing at the kitchen table on and off through out the day. I remember touching my giant belly through out the day and thinking, "In ____ hours I am going to meet this little guy". It was hard to think about anything else. I also kept hoping that I would just go into labor naturally, but that just wasn't happening. For my last supper as a pregnant woman, Nanny made us Hawaiian Haystacks (yummy and light), and then we spent the evening watching Soul Surfer and trying really hard not to think about the next day.

D-day: August 23, 2011
I had to call the hospital at 7:00 a.m. to find out if they had room for me to come in and to find out what time to come in. They told me to come on in. I got up and quickly got ready. It was so surreal to think that I was getting ready to go have a baby. And I remember not being very patient with Nic. It seemed like it was taking him forever to get ready! Nic gave me a priesthood blessing and then we said an emotional good-bye to Sam. The poor kid was probably so confused by all the tears. It was scary and exciting for me to think about how our little family of three was soon going to be forever changed.

We arrived at the hospital, and I continued to feel like I was in this surreal state of mind. It was so weird to think I was casually going to the hospital to have a baby much like if we were going out to grab a bite to eat. We got checked in, I changed into the figure-flattering hospital gown, and we were ready to go, physically anyway. First thing up: the IV. The first attempt, the nurse, Heather, struggled to find a good, strong vein. I have the worst veins! And I am a wuss. The second attempt was successful until I jerked my hand away and pulled out the IV. On the third attempt, we got it and I held really still. But then I started to feel really woozy. I told Heather that I didn't feel very good. The last thing I remember was her saying something about a cool washrag. The next thing I remembered was waking up with a cool washrag on my head, and Nic saying something about not falling off the bed. Apparently I went as white as the sheets and passed out. "Great!" I thought. "If I can't even handle the IV, how I'm going to deal with the labor?!"

I was hooked up to the monitors to watch my heart rate and the baby's. And they began the Pitocin. Around noon, they broke my water. That was such a weird experience because I think my water didn't break until I was pushing with Sam. It just felt like I was continually peeing my pants. I kept apologizing to the nurse because I wasn't sure that I wasn't. She kept reassuring me that I was fine and that it was all part of her job. Wow, nurses are incredible people! I can't imagine dealing with what they deal with on a daily basis!

Shortly after that, the anaesthesiologist came in to do my epidural. She was good at what she does! I was a little nervous about the epidural and was trying to decide if I should wait until the contractions got a little stronger before getting the epidural. I remember with Sam that the contractions were painful enough to distract from getting a huge needle in my back. But once I was dilated to a three, I decided that that was enough. I was starting to remember just how bad contractions get as you climb that dilation scale and decided that I really didn't want to feel that again. We explained to the anaesthesiologist what happened the last time with my heart rate dropping and me passing out, we told her that I had already passed out once that day, and she put together my very own special "starter" epidural that worked perfectly. No passing out and no pain. Yay! After the epidural was in place, we began our waiting game.

Our nurse, Heather, was amazing! She was a lot of fun, encouraging, and calming. She was spunky and kept giving us a hard time because we didn't have a name for the baby yet. She was sure that the baby didn't want to come out because we didn't have a name for him. "I'm just going to call the little guy Mutt then!" She told us and then spent the rest of the time cheering Mutt on to make his big arrival. However, the baby had other plans. Every time I would have a real strong contraction, the baby's heart rate would drop. I felt like that scene from E.T. where Elliott and E.T. are both sick. Just before the baby's heart rate would drop, I would feel a little woozy and my heart rate would go down a little. We ended up decreasing and increasing the Pitocin over the next several hours. Once again, we were going for a longer labor.

Nic's parents dropped in a couple of times during that time and my mom was there. Nanny Manda was home with Sam waiting for the cue to come to the hospital. My doctor's office is on the third floor of the hospital, so he was able to drop in occasionally and check on me. Mostly, we just sat there and waited. I was feeling anxious about the baby. I didn't like watching his little heart rate drop so much. I just wanted him to come out and to know that he was okay.
At some point, Nic and his dad gave me a blessing. It was interesting because with Sam, I was given a blessing and instantly things started to working out and Sam was ready to come out. This time, however, it wasn't an instant answer. But I did receive instant comfort and strength. We still had a bit of a long road ahead of us, but I knew that it would all be okay. Another interesting fact: the most recent scripture story I had read was in Mosiah in the Book of the Mormon where it talks about two different groups of people that were in bondage. One group prayed to escape from bondage and were immediately given divine help to escape. The other group also prayed to escape bondage but instead of immediate delivery (I could make a pun here with my situation that I'm comparing to...), "the Lord did ^astrengthen them that they could bear up their ^bburdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with ^cpatience to all the will of the Lord." Through the rest of the delivery, I still worried when I would see the baby's heart rate go down, but I also just felt a great peace that we were being watched over.

Finally, around 6:00 p.m., the doctor and nurse decided to try and challenge the baby. We would keep the Pitocin and contractions going and really watch the baby's heart rate. Everything really picked up at this point. The doctor decided we were going to need to use the baby vacuum and so all of a sudden all this equipment arrived in the room. Kind of a funny story--I had decided when I first found out that I was pregnant, that for the delivery, I just wanted Nic, me, and the hospital staff in the room. I didn't want any family in the room, because I wanted some time with the new baby, just us. I had informed all of our family of this plan, but I think my mom was trying to override it. When things were starting to pick up, I noticed her sitting quietly to the side. I didn't want to hurt her feelings but I also really wanted the time alone with the baby. So I told Nic to tell her that she needed to leave (the joy of delegation!). Nic turned to my mom and said, "Mom, you've been voted off the island!" I had thought he would have done it a little nicer! Oh well. My mom looked slightly irked, but she left. The doctor told me to push while he tried to position the baby and bring him down. So I did some pushing. The doctor did one little suck with the vacuum, and suddenly told me to stop pushing. Apparently, the baby was out! While I thought we were still just positioning, I delivered the baby. He just popped out after only ten minutes of pushing. We discovered the reason that he didn't want to drop down and why his heart rate kept dropping was because his umbilical cord was wrapped twice around his neck. Whenever a contraction would push him down, it would tighten up the cord. What a miracle that he came out okay! Nic cut the cord and then we got to cuddle with our new beautiful baby and take some pictures. He was such a beautiful baby. Baby Arliss was born with a head full of platinum blonde hair. All of the nurses kept commenting on his hair. I guess it's common for dark haired babies to have lots of hair, but not blondies. Nic says that he was born already needing a haircut!
Heather ran interference for us with the anxious family outside the door by telling them that the room needed to be cleaned up before anyone could come in. Nic and I spent half an hour with our new son just loving him and welcoming him to the world. It was wonderful! We sang I Am a Child of God to him and told him all about his new family. It's always such a surreal experience to meet your baby for the first time, to meet the little one who has been growing and kicking and wiggling inside of you for the past few months. And you really can feel the bits of heaven still clinging to a new baby. It's hard to describe the feeling. And it's amazing the love that you feel. I mean I love Nic so much and I love Sam with all of my heart and somehow I love this new little guy with all of my heart too. You never realize how much you can love until you're holding that new little one in your arms.



Pretty soon it was time to introduce the baby to his family. Once they were allowed in, they exploded in! Both sets of grandparents were there along with Nanny Manda and Sam. Sam wasn't too sure of what to make of all of it. He was happy to see Nic and me again and was really clingy with me. He could tell something big had happened. He just wanted to sit on my lap and be held. At first, he really didn't want to have anything to do with the baby. Then he wanted to hold him, but only for two seconds. Then he would yell out, "Noooooo! Mommy!" So he might not look too excited in those first family pictures. After the initial meeting, Sam discovered there were lots of buttons to push in the room, so he was a happy camper again.

After the family left, Nic's brother, Mark and his wife, Elivania, showed up for a visit. It was fun to introduce the baby to his namesake. We had decided at the beginning of my pregnancy that we wanted to include Mark's name in the baby's name. We hadn't decided on any of the particulars yet, but we did get to tell Uncle Mark that this new little guy was going to be named after him. I think that Uncle Mark was thrilled (though Uncle Mark's thrilled is hard to recognize--he has a great poker face!). Once they left, we gave the baby his first bath. This was around 11 pm, and we were all exhausted at this point. Heather was so sweet. She stayed hours after her shift was over just to make sure the baby was okay and to make sure we were all set up and good to go. Nic finally left to go home and take a shower. He was planning on coming back, but ended up falling asleep laying across the bed with one shoe on and the other still in his hand and didn't make it back until the morning. Because Sam had ended up in the NICU, I was determined to have the baby with me in the room the entire time this time around. But then I ended up being so exhausted and he kept choking on left-over amniotic fluid, so the nurse asked me if I wanted to send him to the nursery, and I conceded. We were all pretty much exhausted from such a long, wonderful day!

So that's about it. That's the baby's birth story. Here's just a couple of highlights from our hospital stay though:
-Nic attended a breastfeeding class with me the next morning, and I really feel like that made such a difference. Baby and I were able to get off to a great start with nursing, and I think Nic's support and help was a big factor in that.
-We loved all the family and friends who visited. We had so much fun showing off our new little one!
-The hospital gave us a fancy dinner one night with a decorated table, good food, and carbonated apple juice in champagne glasses to celebrate our new baby.

-ALL of our nurses were AWESOME. We didn't have even one not-nice nurse.
-And, of course, the photographer came around to take the baby's picture, and we ended up spending lots of money because 1) hospital baby pictures have come a long way since the baby mugshots of my day, and 2) our baby is absolutely adorable!

--The naming of the baby was quite the process. In fact, we ended up staying at the hospital two hours after we were discharged because we couldn't leave without giving them the baby's name for the birth certificate. We wrote down the names on the nurse's white board in the room and slowly whittled the list down to the top ten and then the top five and then the top three. It was quite the ordeal. Like I mentioned earlier, we knew we wanted to name the baby after his Uncle Mark and we knew we wanted to name him after his Uncle Clay (our good friend who is more like family). With Sam, we gave him two middle names, after both grandpas, because we wanted to honor both grandpas and weren't sure if we would have anymore children. We decided that having three names will be our own little tradition in our family. And so we needed a third name for the baby. We finally decided on Mark Emmitt Clay. Emmitt isn't a family name or anything; it's just a name we liked, and I like that it gives the baby a little bit of his own uniqueness. I think Sam's name sounds like a politician or lawyer or something like that. Mark's name sounds like a movie star. We'll see someday! For now, he is my little movie star, and my wonderful, sweet miracle.


Going home:

When we got home, we were surprised to find that Nanny Manda and Sam had decorated the front yard to welcome us home and had gifts and balloons for the new baby.

I'm still alive!

From the looks of this blog, it appears that I've fallen off of the face of the earth, but, no worries, I'm still alive. Just nine months pregnant (which is the equivalent of falling off of the face of the earth). I remember a few months after I had Sam, it was like coming out of this fog, and suddenly I was finding out all of these things that happened over the past months while my world was completely devoted to baby--waiting for baby, having baby, caring for baby, loving baby. I was amazed to discover that the rest of the world didn't stop just because I quit paying attention to it. So-and-so got married?! Who died?! There was a war?! What?! I have a feeling it is happening again. I am withdrawing into my little cocoon, and it is hard for me to think about much except for this giant belly of mine, and the much-anticipated little guy who will hopefully arrive sooner rather than later.

Things are going really well. It has been a busy summer. Having had Sam in the fall, I did not realize that it would be significantly different, and more difficult, to be at the end of my pregnancy in the summer. Mind you, it has been a mild summer for the most part, but it is crazy how much the heat just zaps my energy levels. Poor Nic. This is what it is like at night: I crank the AC down to an obscenely low number, crawl into bed, and drape as much of my body as I can toward the vent at the head of our bed. I don't even like to have a sheet covering me because it's too hot (much to the feasting joy of the three mosquitoes that currently dwell in my room and whom I have not been able to locate and kill. I am like a smorgasbord to them and look like I have the chicken pox or something). Meanwhile, Nic is bite-free because he is completely wrapped like a corn dog in all of the sheets and the quilt. Mind you, this is a guy who wears shorts in the winter. He doesn't get cold...usually. Then, if Nic even tries to cuddle with me or crosses the line onto my side with all of his body heat, I react with fists swinging. Through out the night, to add to Nic's sleeping pleasure, I flip-flop from one side to the other constantly, start kicking out wildly when I get charlie horses, and have to get out of bed numerous times through out the night to use the bathroom, which entails much effort and groaning. I guess if I'm not going sleep well, neither will he!

But the pregnancy is going well, and I can hardly wait to meet this little guy. The joys of having a newborn are starting to come back to me (the lack of sleep, the constant feedings, changings, etc.) but I'm also starting to remember and look forward to the absolute wonderfulness of holding a newborn baby, just arrived from heaven. As Wordsworth puts it:
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!

I love that phrase "trailing clouds of glory." And it is so true that heaven lies about a newborn. I just need to be patient, but I am so excited and can hardly wait! I've had a few nights of Braxton Hicks when I've thought that maybe it was time, but no such luck yet. Patience.
I don't think Sam realizes fully what is in store for him. Nic says that he almost likes it better not knowing what is in store with the labor and all of the first weeks adventures. I think Sam has an idea that something big is on the way, but he's not quite sure what. He has been getting a little more prone to tantrums lately, and I don't know if it's because he's nearing the terrible two's or if he's starting to anticipate his de-throning or if he's just stir-crazy from hanging out with his lazy momma all day. But even though he's begun the tantrum phase and even though he likes to yell 'momma' when he's mad or wants something (which is constantly), he's still completely adorable and wonderful. Here's a little update on Sam: I am amazed out how much he is learning and how quickly. He is in the mimic phase of life, our little parrot. He picks up new words every day. When he went in for his 18 month check-up, I made a list of words he knows and uses, and it was around 20 basic words. In just the few months since then, he's doubled his vocabulary, expanding to words like tractor, cookie, cracker, cool, hat, shoe, and hot. Funny story. He went and spent a few days with Grandpa Dee and Grandma M out in G-ville, and grandma introduced him to the joys of cookies. Ever since then whenever he sees my mom or hears her voice on the phone, he says, "Cookie!" So we call her Grandma Cookie now. Then a few days later, Grandma J was taking care of him and taught him all about crackers. So now she's Grandma Cracker!

Sam loves to be outside. We now have a wonderful new yard, thanks to my amazing husband. So in the afternoons, I'll turn Sam and Gus loose in the backyard, find a shady spot, and read or work on projects. Sam loves dirt, bubbles, trucks, and working on things. It's cute to watch how Sam tries to copy his daddy. He likes to use tools to work on things just like daddy does. I have to watch carefully though, because sometimes he uses his tools to dismantle things too. Yesterday Sam and Gus developed a new game where Sam pulls up some grass and then chases Gus around with it. Gus will run away from him and then turn around and charge at Sam. Gus will turn right before he reaches Sam, stop and bark at him, and start the whole game again. Sam just laughs and laughs. At first, mommy was a little freaked out that Gus had lost it and was going to hurt Sam, but then I figured out their little game.

Anyway, this is just a basic update. In my next post, I will either give some more specific updates of our summer adventures (with pictures), or I will be telling you all about our new arrival. Hopefully, the next post won't be months from now!

Pregnancy Phobias

I am a phobic person as is. Add pregnancy hormones, and I become borderline crazy with random fears. I think most women have their share of pregnancy phobias. I just like to take it the extra mile! For example, for some reason, when I can't get a hold of my husband right away, I instantly jump to the conclusion that he has been in a fiery car crash or something like that. This crazy fear had me close to tears about a month ago when Nic was a little late to a doctor's appointment and his phone battery had died. I don't know why I always jump to the worst case scenario, but I do! Sometimes a pregnant woman will become almost superstitious in her fears. If I hear that a friend ate a chocolate shake right before she went into pre-term labor, I won't touch a chocolate shake. And I have my share of good luck items that I hold onto and bad luck items that I avoid like the plague. Then there are all those rules and suggestions that are found in pregnancy books--from hot dogs to sandwich meats to lying on your back...when you're pregnant and have a little growing baby inside of you who depends on you, the world suddenly becomes a very scary place.
Well, today I overcame a fear. I went to the dentist. I know that pregnant women go to the dentist all the time, no big deal. I know that all the books say that visiting the dentist is a good thing. My doctor told me that it would be a good thing for me to do, and I trust my doctor. Fact: Gum disease can lead to pre-term labor and other problems. However, I have had this insane fear of going to the dentist. I didn't have this fear as a child necessarily. As a tween, I had braces and thus had monthly appointments with the orthodontist. This led to a great dislike of all things dental, but not an irrational fear. I will admit that shortly after I graduated from high school and flew the coop, I didn't go to the dentist again for over a decade. I will not incriminate myself by saying exactly how many years! I will also admit that I'm not the best at flossing, but I know that I'm not alone on that one! Finally, I went to the dentist when I was pregnant with Sam. I told the dentist how long it had been since I had seen a dentist, and he was very impressed with the state of my teeth, despite my lack of dental visits. No cavities. No problems. (In an attempt to make myself feel better about admitting to rarely going to the dentist and to keep you from thinking less of me, let it be noted that in a college science class we did the old swab your mouth and see what's growing under the microscope experiment, and the professor complimented me saying that "I had the cleanest mouth with the least amount of bacterias" he had ever seen. Just so you know!)
Anyway, when Sam was a few months old, I received a terrible text from one of my good friends that she had lost her baby at 28 weeks. I remember just holding Sam and crying. It was such a devastating thing to happen. This is when my fear of dentists was planted deep within my heart. The last time that she really remembered feeling the baby move was when she was at the dentist. She doesn't know why her baby died, and it is highly unlikely that it had anything to do with the dentist, however, right then and there I vowed never to see a dentist when I was pregnant.
But then I kept reading about the importance of seeing the dentist, and my doctor recommended it, and then my dentist sent me a postcard, and I was starting to feel like maybe I should just do it. I realized that my fear had no foundation and was irrational, but it didn't make it any easier to make that appointment. Finally, when my dentist's office randomly called me the other day to see if I wanted to come in for a check-up, I figured it was a sign that I needed to overcome my fear and just do it. So, this morning I brushed my teeth, flossed for the first time in a long time, had my husband say a prayer with me to calm my nerves, and headed off to the dentist. And, happily, all went well. It was actually a pleasant visit and once again, the dentist said everything looked great. No cavities. No problems. He told me to come back after I have the baby so that he can do some X-rays just to be sure, but, otherwise, things looked good. And as I sit here typing this, Arliss is kicking away. All is well. I feel like I have accomplished a great triumph today, though who knows what will come along next that will have me shaking in my boots!