Rants, Recipes, and Running

 Dear Baby Namaste, **Warning, moderately graphic and mildly offensive story ahead** But this is how I cope with discomfort...finding humor in it. I return to letters to you, after my pause to discuss all things career-related and school. Your mama has had quite a day, but as long as I stay super distracted, nausea seems to stay away. So I am writing to you to continue my distraction.  I write this letter to you as a lesson, and maybe someday you'll wake up on the wrong side of the bed and want to throw up your hands and say "forget this day!". And I can tell you, don't. Don't let those first few minutes dictate your attitude for the whole day.  I have a pretty solid example for you. And I think it also is proof of how much I already love you. Of all the things in this world your mom avoids and hates, it is vomiting. She would rather sit in fetal position feeling nauseated for days before she chooses to just throw up.  Yesterday was a tough day. I was nauseated an...

In my previous posts, I alluded a little to a career change. I am writing this for myself as a reminder to always stick to where your heart is at... 1 year ago, my liver transplant program had to go inactive and it was very stressful for me. I had to find new transplant centers to list my patients and had to have some very hard conversations. Some of my patients did not have the financial resources or transportation to go to another city to get their transplants.  When you are a transplant coordinator, you become more than a nurse to your patients. You become a sort of a familial extension. You learn about their extensive social history, marital struggles, their grandchildren, their addictions, their sacrifices, their blood pressure, and everything in between. A transplant is more than surgery. It is a lifestyle change. I always explained to my patients that preparing for a transplant is like pregnancy, the surgery is like birth, and then you have a life of taking care of that orga...

A non-pregnancy related post. I am writing this so hopefully I can some day look back on this phase and laugh. Or something .  Since I am blogging again...I may as well be blogging again ;). But as I am getting back to regular posting, there is a high probability I go missing over the next few months. I'm still alive. I was not kidnapped. On Wednesday I begin my MSN Capstone that will last 8 weeks. This is basically the biggest, most important paper I have written. I have been preparing for it over the last 2 years of this program, and now I apply my theory/project to the workplace and complete the large "novel" where I write about every aspect of it.  The challenge is with COVID, I am working remotely - so I will have to get creative.  The goal is the write and present my work to the college of nursing, have it peer-reviewed by a board of professors, and if it's "good enough" get my work published. But honestly, at this point, I just want to get this over w...

Dearest...er....Sebastian, First of all, I would like to apologize for my absence in letters recently. You have been on my mind 24/7, but your mom was in the final week of a grad school class, interviewing for new jobs, and feeling a little under the weather.  A few things going on.  Before we continue down the path of "why are you changing jobs, again, lady?" Let's talk about your name. You see, we already explained why I chose "Sebastian". But let's get to why I was picking a boy's name. Most of your cousins are boys. Therefore, I always kind of figured I'd have a boy.  However, strange story that perhaps is on the edge of being an "old wives tale". Your dad worked on F16 jets before he became a pilot, and every single man in the shop he worked with birthed a family of girls. Unit BBQ's were a parade of sugar, spice, and everything nice. We often wondered if there was some effect from the radiation exposure of the jet that messed with...

Dearest Sebastian,  This will be a more sobering letter, but I don't think I can write about my pregnancy without addressing the big elephant in the room.  I write this letter to you in grave hopes that by the time you're old enough to read these letters, COVID-19 is something you read about in your history books. However, by the time you're taking history classes, I am sure you won't have textbooks. I'm sure some robot will tell you about it.  I hope that you go to a busy, bustling school with activities, contact sports, and choir. (all things that currently don't exist). I hope you had a childhood where you could play tag. (currently banned). I hope you have school pictures where you are making faces at the camera that is not hidden behind a mask. But given the current state, your mama is not so sure what kind of world she is bringing you into. At this point, all I can tell you is that I promise your Dad and I will travel with you and make life as special as w...

Dear B.S., This may be one of my more crude letters to you. But realize your mama has sort of a blunt/dry sense of humor. I was also an ER nurse in a different life - and we can be a tainted breed. But I promise this is all in good fun.  I call you "B.S." in this letter because I cannot count how many times in the past 6 weeks I have muttered "this is bullshit!", as I lay on our couch curled up in a ball with the room spinning, while your dad enjoys a plate of tacos and a crisp, cold IPA.  One of the most prominent "joys" of pregnancy I have been blessed with is 24/7 nausea. I call 8pm my "witching hour" lately. Around that time I find myself laying down with my mouth filling with saliva, trying all sorts of strange positions to lay in that may help relieve my nausea. And then I run to the toilet and hover over it taking audible, dramatic deep breaths for a long period of time.  Some day I will show you a movie about a little lady name "Emil...

Dear Baby Sebastian,  First of all, I realize that in a few weeks when our NIPT testing results come back, I may have to change the name I have provided you with. You're probably wondering "Why Sebastian?" As much as I do appreciate "the Little Mermaid", that is not the cause of your namesake. I have been dreaming about baby names long before you became an embryo and eventually a fetus. I also have an intuition I have XY chromosomes floating around in there, but I could be wrong.  When your Mama was approximately 14, I really thought I would someday marry a boy named Sebastian. Sebastian was going to be cool, smart, musical, and probably wear glasses. He was going to be calm and collected with no criminal record. He was going to be well-dressed, and different from all the other boys with brown eyes. I did not end up marrying a boy named Sebastian. I married your father, Ryan. Your dad was an exceptional candidate for the qualifications of marriage, even though h...