A few pics...and one inappropriate one

A Couple of Hunks

My feet started itching right after the last guest left. I looked over the stash of presents that had been given to me by friends and family, and the excitement for our new baby grew. Presents sometimes make things feel more real, don't they? I figured my feet itching was just a side effect of being 7 1/2 months pregnant, walking around in barefeet and the heat of the summer.

I had taken the velvet ropes down to show all the guests the baby room, and the "oohs and aahhs" were gently filling up those wounds of long ago...wanting a baby. My itchy feet and I put the finishing touches on the room with our new gifts and I slumbered peacefully that night. Finally, a baby shower for me.

I mentioned to the doctor the next day that my feet and hands were itching pretty bad and maybe I had something called PUPPS that I had heard about. I offered him advice of giving me some kind of cream, salve, anything because the itching was getting worse. He said I didn't have PUPPS, but that there was a liver problem that can happen in pregnancy called cholestasis. He hadn't seen a case for 25 years since medical school. Oye. So they took my blood and sent me on my merry way.

I got a call within a couple of hours asking Andy and I both to return to the office. That's never good is it? I did have cholestasis and it can be dangerous. The baby starts to show signs of distress usually and there is a higher chance of stillborn. Was he freaking kidding? We went home in a little bit of shock.

We took the drugs he suggested, and nothing. The itching got worse. And worse, and worse. Blessing after blessing was given. The itching was worsening, and sleep was a thing of the past as the itching would not allow for one minute for my eyes to close. I spent nights in a cold tub, itching myself to the point of bleeding. Crying to the point of mania. I was exhausted and still we were a good while from the due date.

We went into the doctors office almost everyday to check on the baby, and to see if he could save me from this state of crazy I was now in. Everything on my body itched...everything. Nails, eyelashes, knuckles, mouth. Andy pleaded for something, something to make it go away. The only light was getting the baby out. And with him coming out the liver would return to normal. But it was too early.

I trusted my doctor, he was the best. An old LDS friend of the family. He knew his stuff, and I had faith he and Heavenly Father were having a secret pow wow as to how long to keep my itchy self in its sleepless state. Three amnios were done, day after day to see if the lungs were developed. We knew it was a long shot, since it was over 6 weeks to the due date.

On the night before the next amnio (Labor Day 2006)...I went to a place I've never been. Madness. Itching, horrible. Husband, desperate. No sleep in almost 2 weeks. I cried hysterically as Andy tried to calm me down and offer solace by reading out of the baby name book. Just in case we should name him something other than the planned, Alexander. He read over the "N's" and said "Noah." We both paused. The crying stopped briefly. I loved it, and he loved it.

The next day as we waited for the news if the lungs were developed...prayers were given, and when the phone rang, I cried. "Be here in a couple of hours, he's coming out." We were warned that he would need to be in the hospital since he was 5 1/2 weeks early, and so we prepared for the long haul.

The c-section was what it was. Noah had turned himself completely around that day and he was strangled in the cord. He NEEDED to come out that day. He HAD to come out that day. He was 7 + lbs. No mere preemie. He was a hunk. And I'm lucky enough 3 years later to know I have two hunks. Two great hunks that I love. And when I look back, the itching wasn't so bad.

8

So these two goofs have been married 8 years today.   Can't imagine those 8 years with anyone else.   Go Team Biddle!

In the meantime...

I am not pregnant.   I am really depressed about it.    This was essentially the end of the road for us.   No more pills, no more shots, no more doctors.  My body can't take anymore.

As I was filling yet another tub of clothing that Noah has outgrown, I was sad, really sad.    These tubs have been in reserve for the next baby.    "Just in case" tubs.    And although I am sad, I am sad for Noah.    He loves other children.    He gets excited when we drive past the neighbors in the hopes that Sam and Luke will be outside.   He grabbed Jillian's hand at church on Sunday as to say "let's go buddy..."    It breaks my heart to pieces.

I don't understand why this has been our trial.    I don't understand why it worked once, and then not again.   

So I might burn the pills, melt the shots and shred my 500 page stack of doctors files.    Or I might put them in one of the tubs for safekeeping.     In the meantime...I still believe in miracles.

Abilities and Pellet Ice

Its been a long time since I've blogged...I think Facebook has addicted me for the time being.   However, I want to try to journal what has been going on in our lives other than a few quick updates for the masses.

Life in the Biddle house is good.    We are still trying to get pregnant one more time, but it just hasn't happened for us.    After this month we have to make some tough decisions, since I just can't be on the drugs anymore.   They not only make me crazy, but I have a ferocious appetite and well...did I mention CRAZY?!     Even I know they are making me a little nutso.   But all for the good of a pregnancy, so I can handle 3 more weeks.   

We took a trip down to Cali for a family reunion on Andy's side of the family and to see his Aunt Pat.   It was a lot of fun to see everyone, spend time together as a family, and especially to see our friends the Devericks.   I didn't want to leave!    They live in the most beautiful place, and I missed just talking to them and laughing together as friends.   I told Andy I was going back soon!    Soon soon!

My mind has been full of thoughts as I wrap up this round of baby trying drugs.    I had a realization about a week ago that this was it...the end of my ability to have a baby on this earth. Now while that might sound dramatic, I never thought that age or circumstance would inhibit me from having a child.    But in our case it really does, on both counts.   I cried a little when I thought about the way I feel inside...that of a teenager...and that hope and dream to have a few children.    To see your future as endless.    The reality is that women have an expiration date.   Some are never able to have children.    Some, one.   Its a very strange emotion....makes me sad. And I don't need to type about the miracle that is Noah.   I know.   I know everytime I look at those big browns and crazy red hair.

So while I try not to wallow in my disappointment or hopefully joy in another miracle...life is good.    Really good.    I have a great life.    And our local Shell station now has pellet ice.   Is there anything better?

New Moon

So I got up at the crack of dawn this morning (Noah standard wake up time) to see the most beautiful new moon outside my kitchen window.   It was huge and orange and a wash of joy came over me.    Simple beauty.

As is this cute face.

Upgrades

Every now and then I look around our house a little disheartened. The paint has chipped a lot from wear and tear.    It wouldn't be an easy fix, it needs to be re-done.   The dog has scratched the paint off the window sill.    The master bedroom bath needs to be updated as does the kitchen.   We can't stand our kitchen.   Its older, isn't a good use of space and you bang your head if you are trying to talk to someone in the great room.   Our old house was all brand new...beautiful and dreamy.

But we know where our money has gone.   It went to getting HIM.   The Freets.    And for the second I feel disappointed that the house doesn't look the way I think it should...I think of HIM.   

I think about this being his first home.    I love that we can see the fireworks off Lake Washington from our front lawn.    He plays in his little wading pool off the back deck in the summer.   And that Cabo now sleeps outside his bedroom next to the scratched up walls.     The house is beautiful because of HIM.    Its our home, and all the upgrades can wait.   It was worth the money.