Adelle Sophia Knepper

Tuesday, May 29, 2012
12:06 p.m.
7 pounds, 15 ounces
20 inches
So far? Looking pretty healthy.
And cute.

If Peeing Your Pants is Cool, Consider Me Miles Davis.

Billy Madison?  Anyone?  No...?  Oh well.  Hey!  I'm nine months pregnant.  Which is, like, suuuuuuper pregnant in case you didn't know. 

I don't know if I got lucky when I was pregnant with Olivia or what but I loved that shit.  I could not get enough.  I wanted to go fully to 42 weeks, I felt so fantastic.  But my other two pregnancies have turned me into some sort of crazy miserable homeless-looking/smelling hag that is virtually unrecognizable.

First of all, I smell like pee.  Because I pee my pants a little all.day.long.  It started around 29 weeks and is going strong at 38 weeks 5 days.  This is amazing to me because I pee approximately 148 times a day and yet there still seems to be some amount of pee left to make me seriously consider a package of Depends on my next shopping trip.

Then, the swelling.  Not to be confused with The Weight Gain ZOMG.  I held on to a good 30 pounds from my last pregnancy, and I've gained just shy of 30 this time, which is fine.  I'll lose it.  But add that together with swelling and I look like Gwyneth Paltrow in Shallow Hal.  I look in the mirror and it looks like someone added fake fat padding to my face and ankles.  I'm only 5"1' so, things are getting muy rotund. 

(I know how much some people looooove when pregnant people complain about being fat.  I also don't care.  I can barely move at this point.)

So anyway, the swelling was getting to be epic by noon every day, so I started to wear tennis shoes with my business casual outfits at work everyday.  I was, like, two pounds away from being a total mall walker.  And nothing says professional like a mall walker handling your official business.
Good thing I have been on maternity leave since the beginning of April.  You know, super high blood pressure and super swollen feet and a little bit of protein?  After you delivered your last pregnancy (identical twin, stillbirth, raging preeclampsia OH MY) with much drama at 32 weeks?  Will buy you maternity leave at 31 weeks.  It has helped, too.  My blood pressures and protein with more rest have been normal.  The swelling, though...not so much.

I'm fairly certain that my OB (who I love seriously) thinks that I am completely cray cray ridiculous.  I was telling him a month or so ago about my crotch pain, which I call Lightning Crotch.  You know, those horribly sharp pains that come from nowhere like someone is stabbing you right in your Lady Business?  A term which he found to be pretty funny.  He says that he is going to go on using the medical terminology which I think is stupid but, whatever.

It is hotter than hades in my part of Ohio right now, which is completely fun and awesome especially when I am down to one pair of pants and 4 shirts that fit.  My belly has dropped so low that, no matter what I wear, about 3 inches of my newly stretch-marked stomach (seriously, I had a TWIN pregnancy with zero stretch marks) hangs down and out in all its glory.  Yesterday, I had a desperate need to go to the store and buy fruit, I had to wear an old sun dress with yoga pants and tennis shoes.  And then I didn't even bother to fix my hair or look at my face because why bother, at that point.

So basically the message now that I'm full term is: GET OUT OMG GET OUT.  Yes, I'm glad to be full term with a pregnancy that required no sort of science, no I don't want a preemie or any NICU time, and insert whatever the appropriate disclaimer is for this statement but still.  GET.OUT.

I've had two days where I had ouchy but irregular contractions that got me all hot and bothered for the official baybee eviction but that ultimately went nowhere. I have a c-section scheduled for Tuesday morning which feels like a million years away.  Olivia wants to play with me nonstop and I am so uncomfortable that I can't which she doesn't understand because she is three and wants whatever she wants right goddamned now. 

(Which, come to think of it, I am acting very much like my three year old regarding this whole GET OUT thing.) 

Yesterday I ate 6 ice cream sandwiches.  Today I might eat 6 more.  I should stop buying ice cream sandwiches so that I don't look like Gwyneth in Shallow Hal.

I am ready to meet this baby.  Hopefully I don't eat it, too.

The Good Memories

When it became obvious that we would have to let Ainsley go, there was no question in my mind that I would hold her and be there for her and talk to her.  I had to.  I had to do this one last thing for her even though it was sure to be awful.

And it was.  Awful. 

I mean, she was as comfortable as possible and felt the least amount of pain possible.  A group of caring people were with us to make sure of it.  It was fast, because she was very sick.  She had very sick lungs. I had almost a year and a half with Ainsley and the part that is sticking with me are those last few minutes while I kissed her face and said goodbye to her.  I hate it.  I hope that changes over time, ya know? 

I basically took pictures and videos of Ainsley nonstop every time I was there.  Because she was funny and cute and I couldn't resist.  And now I am so glad that I did because every time I picture The Awful, I can pick up my phone and watch a happy Ainsley.  Here is one of the last videos I have of her.  She was cracking up just because I was cracking up.

I don't think people understand what it was like to be around Ainsley.  How could they, really?  The tubes, the wires, the equipment...it all looks very intimidating.  I didn't even notice the tubing anymore when I looked at her - it was as normal as a paci or something.  We could pick her up and swing her around and nibble on her cheeks just like any other kid. 

She was delayed, yes, but she was otherwise a very normal little 16 month old.  She was fun and played with toys and she was a flirt OH MY GOD, she was a flirt.  They would sit her in a stroller or exersaucer or even just on a mat on the floor in her doorway and let her interact with people in the hallway.  She would make people clap, or tell them no, shake her booty, or cover her face if she didn't know someone.

She got to play all day with a room and crib full of fun toys.  And everyone who came to see her smiled at her and played with her.  She had a fan club, almost literally, at the hospital.  If she wanted to sleep, she did!  If she wanted to watch a movie, she did!  She was just surrounded by fun and love all the time.  It is sad that she is gone, but while she was here things were fun and happy.  A lot.

This is the last video I took of her, that same day.  It is a pretty good one too - she smiles, laughs, dances,  sneezes and eats her own snot. 

I was looking through pictures and found a set of Olivia and Ainsley playing.  Olivia was playing with Ainsley's toys, and every.single.toy that she picked up, Ainsley reached her fat little paw out to take from her. 

So then Olivia decided to just watch a movie, but Ainsley kept closing the DVD player and then laughing when Olivia would protest.  It was so funny and to me it was just so...ordinary.  Normal.  Sisters getting on eachothers nerves. 

I think I need to remind myself that we did every single thing we could to make her life happy. It wasn't normal for most people, but to her it was normal.  Ainsley lived a good and happy life.

I don't know why I am putting this all this mess on mah blog because really it is kind of all over the place.

Interim Normal

There are a lot of hours to fill in a day when we are not splitting our time between Olivia at home and Ainsley at the hospital and work. We are just trying to adjust to what was normal a year and a half ago...or fill the time between now and when this new baby arrives.

Wii bowling.  In a bathing suit.
Totally normal.

Here's a little placeholder post to let you know that we are all ok.  And that we appreciate all of your thoughts and prayers and kind words.

Ainsley's Memorial

Memorial calling hours will be held for Ainsley this Wednesday, May 16, at Shorts-Spicer-Crislip Funeral Home in Streetsboro.  Visitors are welcome from 5-8 p.m.

Location information and directions can be found here, as well as the obituary and the information to make a memorial donation to Akron Children's Hospital.

Thank you so so much for all of the comments, thoughts, prayers, and support.  We are still laying low but please know that we appreciate every one.

Peace for Ainsley

I can't believe that I am posting this...

Ainsley passed away early Saturday morning.   After almost seventeen months, her poor little body was just so tired from fighting  for so long.  We held her and kissed her and told her how much we loved her over and over until she left us.

The last time she was awake was Monday, May 7.  This is a picture of her from that day.  Happy as always despite her struggles.  This is how I will always remember her - my happy, silly, smiley little Ainsley.  My little meatloaf.



The sweetest, happiest baby.  Ever.

 

I am grateful for every minute I had with Ainsley and I would have sacrificed anything if it meant that I could have more time with her.  I guess I never really understood the saying, "Rest In Peace" until now.  No more sickness, no more struggle to breathe - just peaceful rest for our sweet girl, who deserved everything good and happy in this world.

 

She changed our lives in all of the best ways.

 

Tell me how you care for your skin, and win $50!!

Oh yeah, it's another sponsored post and giveaway. I'm on a roll with these!  They are pretty fun, and I get to try stuff and give my honest opinion and give something away to you guys. 

I received a bottle of Olay® Total Effects Tone Correcting UV Moisturizer to try and review. I was pretty skeptical because I have skin like a freak of nature. I get dry and peely really easily, and my cheeks turn bright red if I use a product that doesn't agree with me. 

Quite honestly, this review would be a lot more amusing if my skin went bat-shit crazy while using this stuff. Sadly, it did not. I actually really liked it a lot!

My skin is crappy, as previously discussed. I have giant pores on my nose and T-zone, and I have a big ugly sun spot on my right cheek. I'm starting to notice the dreaded fine lines around and between my eyes. I have zero skin-care routine, so when this Olay opportunity came up I was all over it. This product is supposed to help minimize spots and fight the appearance of discoloration, while also combating the seven signs of aging. 

So let me tell you what I really think about this product, and then I'll tell you how you can enter for a chance to win a $50 Visa Gift Card.

I'll go over the seven signs of aging and review the product based on each sign (I've combined a few of the signs).

Line Minimization: I can't say that I've noticed a big change in the appearance of my fine lines. I've been using the product everyday for about two weeks, so it might just take more time. Sometimes I notice that I have breakfast Nutella on my face at around noon, so I might not be doing a close enough inspection. 

Nourishing Moisturization & Dryness Defense: I am really picky about moisturizer because my skin is dry in places and oily in others. I really like this product for moisturizing! I don't know that it would work for me during the brutal winter months, but for spring and summer it would be perfect. It made my skin soft without making it oily, as some other anti-aging products have done.

Tone Enhancement: I've never used a tinted moisturizer before. I usually moisturize and then use a foundation. I worried that the color would look blotchy over my dry skin, and that the combination of a tinted moisturizer with foundation would make my skin look too dark. This went on really smooth and I do feel like my skin looked a bit more even after I used the moisturizer with foundation on top.

Gentle Exfoliation & Eye Puffiness Reduction: Meh. I didn't notice any sort of exfoliation. And my eyes definitely do not look less puffy. However, I am hugely pregnant and puffy all over the place. So perhaps I should reduce my salt intake and stop blaming this face lotion for not making my eyes look less puffy?

Free Radical Defense: This stuff has an SPF of 15, which is what I like. It does smell like sunscreen at first, which isn't my favorite, but the scent faded as it dried. So ... that's what I think about Olay Total Effects Tone Correcting UV Moisturizer. I like it and would buy it, especially for the warm spring/summer months when I need a lighter moisturizer.  

Now the good stuff: How to enter for a chance to win a $50 Visa Gift Card! Just leave a comment telling me about your skincare routine. How do you care for your skin? What products do you like for cleansing and moisturizing?   

Rules:

No duplicate comments.

You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods:

a) Leave a comment in response to the sweepstakes prompt on this post

b) Tweet about this promotion and leave the URL to that tweet in a comment on this post

c) Blog about this promotion and leave the URL to that post in a comment on this post

d) For those with no Twitter or blog, read the official rules to learn about an alternate form of entry.

This giveaway is open to U.S. Residents age 18 or older. Winners will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by email. You have 72 hours to get back to me, otherwise a new winner will be selected.

The Official Rules are available here.

This sweepstakes runs from 4/9 - 5/16

Be sure to visit the Olay TE page on BlogHer.com where you can read other bloggers' reviews and find more chances to win! While we're on the subject of looking good, you might want to check out the "Looking Your Best" posts in the Life Well Lived section of BlogHer.com. There are some great tips and expert posts!

I was compensated and provided free product for this post.  The opinions expressed herein are my own.

Easter Bunny Made A Mess!

That's what Olivia said as she saw the path of eggs left by the Easter Bunny.  She may look like her mom but she's getting a cleanliness complex like her dad.

I was surprised by how much Olivia understood the difference between her basket and Ainsley's basket.  I was afraid she would want all of the toys to herself but she was actually really excited to give them to Ainsley.

Stupid Potterybarn with their Stupid Cute Expensive Baskets and Stupid Cute Liners.
Also, Stupid Pillow Pets.



Ainsley had a very encouraging few days on a Portable Ventilator - you know, the kind that can be used at home but are not called home ventilators - but when we walked in to the hospital today it was just very clear to me that she was feeling terrible.  However, she was such a trooper and played with Olivia and laughed and smiled for a few pics - you know, before she went directly down the respiratory shitter.

Ainsley finds Easter to be very amusing.
However, this portable vent can suck it, I guess.

I would like to note that my 15 month old former preemie is wearing a 12-18 month dress that could not be buttoned up the back.  It was wide open like a V.  And people wonder why I want to call her a meatloaf??  She smiles so big her cheeks make her eyes squinty!  I love it.  My little side of beef...the opposite of my teeny little Olivia, who I fear may blow away in a strong wind and who could probably rock that very 12-18 month dress as an adorable tunic with leggings.



Olivia: Look at this balls for ya!
Ainsley: OK, and also I can't breathe but yay Easter!

Olivia loves to go see Ainsley, and Ainsley seems to be mesmerized by Olivia.  They get along pretty well.  I hope that it carries over to the days when we eventually all live under the same roof with two ridiculous dogs and another little lady Knepper.



Best of, like, 300 attempts at a family shot.
Olivia acts like being photographed is corporal punishment.



Age 3 is still an appropriate age for me parents to eat all of the candy from the plastic eggs, right?  You know, only so Olivia doesn't get a belly ache.

--

One Year Ago:  Ninety Nine
Two Years Ago:  Should Have Purchased Three Sets of Ears
Three Years Ago:  Mister Yuck, Look Out!
Four Years Ago:  The Longest Post In The History of Infertile Whining

NICU Graduate

Just not the way that we hoped!

Much like George and Weezy, we have moved on up to a de-luxe apartment in the sky.  And by that I mean that we moved up two floors in the same hospital.  From NICU to PICU.*

Around the end of February, we started thinking about moving to PICU.  Because at 14 months old, Ainsley was obviously not a newborn anymore.   She is a toddler - a toddler who doesn't toddle, but still.  Does this giant meatloaf look like a newborn to you?

Gettin a toof.

So the thought was that, maybe, she should be in the PICU where 14 month old residents are the norm, and not the depressing exception.  Where there are lots of bigger kids on ventilators.  And so we asked to be moved and apparently that is a big deal like, whoa.   Apparently?  There is no way to say to this group of people who have kept your super sick kid alive for the past 14 months that you want to take your critical illness elsewhere, without feeling like somewhat of an ungrateful douche.

This giant meatloaf rolls over now.

The scariest part of the move was getting to know all new nurses and staff.  For us and for Ainsley.  Ainsley can be a bit of a snob if she doesn't know you.  Everyone in the NICU knew that you had to make friends with Ainsley before you approached her.  And almost everyone in the NICU made friends with Ainsley because she is a giant attention whore and would perform for anyone willing to watch.

Ainsley's de-luxe apartment in the sky.

Surprisingly, the move went really well.  Ainsley didn't mind the change in scenery at all, and has made fast friends with lots of PICU people.  Her room is right across from a break room where people come and go all day, and she spends the entire day shaking her head no, dancing, and smiling at people to get attention.  She's got some new, fabulous primary nurses, and her NICU friends come to visit her all the time.

Big Room = Big Sister Dance Party

It has been interesting to watch the new doctors get to know Ainsley.  The first few days were a bit rough but overall necessary.  A few aggressive changes were made, and in typical Ainsley fashion, the bottom fell out after a few days.  Ainsley will try her best - she will chug along for days doing something that she doesn't like, and then all of a sudden she will stop doing it. 

For example: breathing.

Within the first week, the PICU people were introduced to my ugly cry and Ainsley's drama.  I was joking that it would be so satisfying for a NICU doctor to stand off in a corner and say, "SEE?!  See what we were dealing with?  HA!"  This child does not tolerate fast change.  Lesson learned.

HEYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

But Ainsley won back her (super, ridiculously, insane) high ventilator settings and was her cheerful self in a few days.  And by cheerful, I mean ZOMG HAPPY!  She is such a happy and silly toddler, who doesn't toddle.  She's 15.5 months old and aside from not being able to breathe on her own, like, at all?  She is fantastic.

The cuteness.

We are hopeful that someday we will get her home.  But today is not that day.  Not tomorrow, either, or the next day.  But hey!  We have a super fun baybee so things could be a lot worse.

*I may have been in a hospital for too long, but I was surprised by the number of people who asked me what the difference between NICU and PICU is.  NICU is Neonatal Intensive Care Unit - for wittle newborn baybees.  PICU is Pediatric Intensive Care Unit - for kids of all ages, big giant teenagers included.

Perhaps I should bathe more often?

Our office moved to a new building...oh, 5 years ago? Maybe even 6. I don't even know what happened 17 minutes ago, so this is my best estimate: 5 or 6 or whatever years ago, our office moved to a new building.

Every spring, these trees bloom all over outside of the building.  They are all around the building.  Aren't they pretty?

Looks pretty.
Is lying whore.

And they are pretty, but they smell like cat pee.  Like burning cat pee, actually.  Like pee from a cat on fire.  Or, pee from a cat with a urinary tract infection.  Or, pee from a cat with an STD...a naughty little kitty (or maybe an unfortunate virgin kitty who failed to use the proper protection?). 

Anyway, every year these pretty but skanky trees bloom and every year, for five or six or whatever years?  I mean, every.single.year. without fail, I walk out of the building on the first nice, sunny day and immediately smell the burning cat pee and I think it is me.  Every year.  I get as far as doing the covert armpit sniff - like, hey, let me casually brush my hair out of my eye while looking to the side and breathing in a fresh breath of burning cat pee.

And then I smell the sweet smell of Secret Shower Fresh and realize that, alas, I have been tricked by a motherfucking tree.  Again.  Am clean but stupid.

I'm not sure why I would smell burning cat pee and automatically assume that I am the offender.  I bathe, I swear.  Regularly, even.  I'm thinking I should bathe more just in case I smell like Cat Pee STD though. 

If I start thinking that the smell of the fresh mulch is me, I am going to do a full sink bath every time I wash my hands in the office restroom.  Because my psyche is too delicate to handle the stress of thinking I smell like fresh cow shit.