The Fourth Go-Round

Seven weeks ago, I was eight weeks pregnant.

Six weeks ago, I wasn’t.

Yes, I have had another miscarriage. Labs, an ultrasound, and talking to the doctor revealed that it was a ‘false pregnancy’. It started out normally but something happened and the pregnancy just stopped developing. There’s no way to tell what went wrong but the doctor is confident that I will have a normal one the next time round though she recommended I go back on the progesterone pills.

In the recent weeks, as a way to keep my mind occupied, I’ve researched possible causes of progesterone deficiency in hopes of finding a way to fix it. I discovered that I am severely deficient in zinc and iodine. Along with my struggle to lose weight and three prior miscarriages, this points to a possible thyroid problem which is a leading cause of hormone imbalances. I am currently working with a nutritionist and my doctor to see if a diet change and the addition of some new multi-vitamins will correct the problem. So far, I am seeing positive results after only a month. I feel more energetic, I’m eating better, I’ve lost weight, and I sleep better at night. I feel hopeful that we found the cause of my hormone issues. It’s encouraging to me and I can only hope that this keeps up.

For the moment, I am focusing on me and getting healthy, figuring out a lifestyle that works best, and drawing up plans for our house addition. It’s enough for now.

Baby's First: Creeping

Yep, my little man is scooting around now. He can't quite get to his hands and knees but V still manages to move around the house. Time to baby-proof the bookshelves and sweeping the floor multiple times a day. Time to figure out how to keep V away from the door and the bathroom and from under the bed. Time to wonder where the last eight months have disappeared. He is no longer content to stay in one place. All too soon, he'll be walking. 'Dada' is his favorite person at the moment (unless Mom has a bottle in her hand) and the dog is a really interesting animal that he can watch for hours. He loves his oatmeal and banana for breakfast, eats more than I do some days, and is already what's on Mom and Dad's plates tastes better than his own food. Today he's creeping and scooting and almost, but not quite crawling. I just hope he's not walking tomorrow.

P.S. For those who are interested, his last doctor's visit showed that he is following his growth curves for height and head circumference but had a VERY large jump in weight. Doctor was quite pleased.

Out of the loop

Sorry for not posting in ages but our computer is so virus laden that it takes five minutes to load pages and I just don't have that kind of time. So, until our new modem arrives (the old one was fried, again, during a thunderstorm) and our computer is virus-free, I will be on sporadically when I am at the library.

Quick update on everything else:
-V is 7 months old! Yikes, where did that time go? Summer is nearly over, Fall Freshening is fast approaching, and I am the mother of a little boy who can roll over, sit up, and babble.

-I started my first canning project. 8 pints of bread-and-butter pickles are now in the cupboard and I own my very first canning pot. I still have one more batch of pickles to put up and tons of other garden produce to finish putting up.

-Green beans (2 gallons so far) are in the freezer and carrots are next. My garden is doing awesome this year! I have so much produce and we did better on the weeds than we have ever done. I am loving this. Nothing like sweet corn fresh from the garden for supper.

Bye Bye Bossy

Because I grew up in town, even though I now live in the country, I still tend to look at animals as pets rather than just animals. I'm getting better and certain aspects of farm life no longer phase me. It's just that I get this little pang for awhile when we send a cow to the sale barn.

We sent one just this morning. She was one of the older cows in the herd, had developed a slight limp, had a high SCC number, wasn't bred, and wasn't producing as much milk as she used to. Still, for some reason, I've become attached to that particular cow.

Perhaps I was attached because she was one of the first ones I could always pick out when I first started milking. She just stood out in my mind. Maybe it was her placid temperament. (In other words, she went into the parlor first without complaint, had a nice big bag with large straight teats, and didn't kick at you or the milker.) It could just be that I liked that cow for no reason at all. For whatever reason, it was still bittersweet to say goodbye.