The Moberg Family

Category: Pregnancy

  • Everything I Need To Know About Parenting, I Learned From Pregnancy

    Everything I Need To Know About Parenting, I Learned From Pregnancy

    It’s true.

    You have no idea how many times I think this statement every single day of my life. Below is my “Everything.” I’m not claiming I’ve mastered these things (thank God I have actual parenting to help me with that…) 😉 but I sure have taken a pretty good go at them! 

    I’ve been working on this list for months, but in honor of my due date (and no baby yet), I’m ready to post my list. Here they are, in no particular order:

    Number 1: “Babies Change Everything.”

    People say this to me/us ALL. THE. TIME. (Disclaimer: if you are one of the ones who has said this to us, please don’t take the following personally.) And every time someone says this, it takes every bit of grace in me to not say, “No…REALLY?!” Instead, I smile, and say, “Oh, he already has…”

    These are the people who must not realize that I have been throwing up for 9 months, and that was not a part of my daily routine pre-July. That I spent the first 4 months of pregnancy sick around the clock and since then have woken up sick every single morning for the remaining 9 months. These are the people who must not realize that since I’ve gotten pregnant, the most I’ve slept in a row is 4 hours at a time, when I was on nausea meds with a good amount of sleeping aids in them. The majority of my pregnancy I’ve only slept for 2 hours at a time. About 2 months ago, my body decided it needs to wake up every single hour throughout the night. Again, not a habit I was familiar with pre-pregnancy. I’ll let you draw some of your own conclusions about how handicapping two of my basic health needs–eating and sleeping–has literally affected every area of our lives.

    So yes, you’re right folks…babies have–already–changed EVERYTHING.

    Number 2: Life revolves around eating, sleeping, and going to the bathroom.

    Literally, my life is dictated by these three things. I’ll need to nurse my baby every two hours? Are you kidding? That’s CAKE. Right now I have to eat every stinkin’ two hours, and that means I either need to prepare a meal or find the nearest hamburger joint every two hours! At least with nursing there’s not any prep involved! Because I have to eat so frequently, there’s just not much time to do anything else in between but sleep and go to the bathroom. I’m so ready for this baby.

    Number 3:  If it happened in a day, it’s fair game to talk about, especially in regard to bodily functions.

    I have lost all filters for what’s appropriate when talking about bodily functions. Again, when 1/3 of my day (see Number 2) is consumed by going to the bathroom–either to relieve myself or to throw up–why WOULDN’T I want to talk about it? Sometimes my vomiting story of the day is the most entertaining thing that’s happened to me in a week. I have to tell SOMEONE about it… I definitely used to wonder why when moms would get together they would choose to talk about things like the color of their baby’s poop… but now I totally understand. There’s just nothing more satisfying than having a good friend share in my vomiting experience or bathroom accident of the day. And I have to give a shout out to my incredible husband, who has beared with me with the patience of a saint in this arena. The phrase, “Babe! You’ve GOT to come look at this!!” is not an uncommon one in our household these days, and he has been such a champ…totally humoring me as I force him to share in this pregnancy by living vicariously through my bathroom experiences.

     Number 4: Never-under any circumstances-leave the house without snacks.

    Even if I have JUST eaten and I only have a 15 minute errand, I just never know what might happen. And if I cross the 2 hour threshold and DON’T have several snacks in my bag to tide me over until I can get a real meal…well, it’s all over. This baby’s meltdown looks like vomit flying out of my mouth. I know this has been great training for when we have lots of little ones. I will never, under any circumstances leave the house without snacks when I have kiddos.

    Number 5: Always carry a spare $20 in your car.

    There was one particular day, several months ago, when I was SO HUNGRY, and knew I was getting dangerously close to the 2-hour eating mark. We had NOTHING in the house that I could eat/sounded like I could keep down, and so I had to make a special trip out for a cheeseburger. Against my better judgment, I got a few more things done around the house before leaving, so by the time I had gotten in the car I was already well past the 2-hour eating mark. I knew it could get messy quick, but I just gave myself a solid pep talk all the way to Sonic, telling my stomach that it was not going to throw up in that particular moment…that it was about to get food and it needed to patient today. Well I was about 13 minutes into my drive, 2 minutes away from said destination, when I realized…

    I FORGOT MY WALLET.

    OH. DEAR. GOD.

    $3.81 standing in the way of a full tummy and a vomit-free lunch. I’m pretty sure the world literally stopped spinning in that moment. I looked up, expecting an oxygen mask to drop out of the ceiling. MAY DAY. I began to PANIC, thoughts flying through my head of how on earth I could solve this problem. I will just have to BEG Sonic to give me a cheeseburger. I am not above begging. I can give them my license to hold until I have time to drive home to get payment. No wait, I don’t have my wallet. Ugh! What about if I beg them to give me a cheeseburger, and then they can literally handcuff me to the table until Brian can meet me here with the money. I’m sure they’ll understand…I can explain that I’m pregnant and tell them how sick I am and…

    And then I just burst into tears. None of these things were going to work. I called Brian, sobbing, and started giving him my solution ideas and he just so gently interrupted me and said, “My love, they’re not going to give you a cheeseburger without paying for it.”

    THEN WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?! I cried.

    I’ll jump in the car and meet you there in 15 minutes. Eat a granola bar and drink an apple juice…and I’ll see you soon.

    I had forgotten that he had stocked my car with SNACKS!! World’s most perfect husband. He has mastered Rule #4.

    But if I had just had a spare $20 in the glove department…

    Number 6: Accidents happen…don’t plan on getting dressed just once for the day.

    I haven’t gotten to the point of needing to bring a spare change of clothes with me in my purse like I likely will need to do in my diaper bag for the little peanut, but I’ve been pretty close. Luckily, most of my “accidents” happen here in the house, and the ones that have happened in the car, in restaurants, airports, sidewalks, etc., have been manageable. But I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been walking out the door and suddenly I’d thrown up so violently that I pee my pants and require a full change of clothes. I’ve shed a fair number of tears during this scenario, but recently I’ve grown to be much more mature about it and rather than get upset about having to throw my cute shirt and jeans into the washer, I just say: “Eh…accidents happen. No sense crying over spilled milk.”

    TMI? Well, you’re the one choosing to read my blog :).

    Number 7: Plan on allowing an extra hour to get out of the house, and even then–plan on being late.

    It’s just that my body controls me now, and besides that, there are sooo many “unexpected” things that can happen at any given moment. You should see how I have my schedule alotted out for each day…imagine it. Every 2 hours I have to be eating a full meal. Each meal takes AT LEAST 30 minutes to eat, because food still does not go down easily and my gag reflex is sooo sensitive. On top of that, I’ve recently discovered that I have acid reflux, which is why it feels like my food is constantly crawling back UP my throat after I’ve killed it, chewed it, and swallowed it.

    During the days I was rinsing 7 different times throughout the day to try and get rid of my oral thrush, I had to rinse right after a meal because I couldn’t eat for 30 minutes afterward.

    Meanwhile, I’m supposed to be keeping hydrated. But I can’t drink DURING meals because my stomach is too cramped and acid-refluxy to fit all of that in there. Which means I only have small windows to get all 80+ ounces of fluid down in a day. Plus, my bladder is so squished that when I DO drink water, I have to GO…a lot.

    Are you picturing this? Here’s a sample schedule for you:

    1:00 Prep food for meal
    1:10-1:40 Eat said food
    1:40-1:45 Brush teeth & Rinse with two types of rinse
    1:45-2:15 No eating or drinking
    2:15-3:00 Drink lots of water, and make sure I’m in a place where there’s a restroom

    That leaves me from 2:15-3:00 to actually be DOING something other than eating. Do you see how frustrating life is? So showering, getting ready, preparing to leave, ALL has to fall within a 45 minute time frame, WELL before I actually HAVE to leave. If I needed to be somewhere at 2, then I’d have to start “getting ready” around 9 to make sure I could fit everything into my eating schedule.

    Now, imagine everything’s going perfectly according to plan, and at 1:43 while I’m brushing my teeth I accidentally gag, which–always–triggers vomiting. Well, it’s all over. Plan on being late.

    Number 8: I am not in control of ANYTHING except my attitude.
    You can read as many books as you can get your hands on and be more disciplined about following a schedule than anyone, but there is no way to make your days and life predictable. This pregnancy has been, literally, completely the opposite of everything I have ever hoped for and dreamed of in a pregnancy. Nobody dreams of being sick every single day of their pregnancy. Nobody dreams of ending up in the hospital–twice–due to severe dehydration during pregnancy. I could list all of the many, many, many other things that have happened to me and my body during these last 9 months, but it’s not necessary. The point is, the entire time, I’ve had a decision to make every single day:

    To trust my God, and make it through each day with joy, or to turn against Him and be bitter, complaining to anyone who will listen.

    There were (are currently) so many days where something’s occurred that’s felt like, “Are you kidding me? THIS on top of vomiting every single day of my life?” And then I’ll sit before God, gain revelation and peace about His goodness, stand up to conquer the day with joy, when no sooner have I turned the corner that SOMETHING ELSE piles on top… And I just have to turn right back around and get on my face before God to find joy. Because honestly, finding my joy in Him sounds like a lot more fun than being bitter and angry. But that doesn’t mean there haven’t been tears…Oh boy…have there been tears alright. There have been hundreds of times, literally, when I’ve thought–I can’t handle one more thing on top of all this, and then…it’s come. One more thing. Two more things. Three more things.

    Tonight I sit, exactly 40 weeks pregnant, with a chest cold that’s lasted a week and a half, the stomach flu, and a husband who has a 101 degree fever. And so my choice is…to scream and cry and shake my fists at God, or…OR. Or to trust in the One who formed me, my husband, and my son with his own two hands, and trust that He is good.

    I recently heard this at a conference: “Trust in the God who led his perfect son to die on the cross…and then trust in the God of the resurrection.”

    Thank you, God, that YOU are in control, and I am not…you do a much better job of being God than I would… If, by the grace of God, I can grasp this concept now, I have a feeling parenting will be a whole lot easier…

    Number 9: I married the most amazing man in the entire world.

    I could never count how many times I have just cried and cried over the reality of this statement. I really don’t think I would be in one piece if it weren’t for Brian in this season. He has been the constant, steady one, urging me to turn my face towards the King when all I wanted to do was cry, balled up in a corner. He has been the encouraging one, who has picked me up out of bed (literally at times) when I had no strength to do so myself. There have been so many times that I have apologized to him for not being able to be as “excellent” as I desire in this season…and he just NEVER waits a second before affirming what an incredible job I AM doing, reminding me that we’re in this TOGETHER, and we’ll make it through TOGETHER. I have never known a man who has walked with his wife so closely in pregnancy. When I talk about being pregnant, I always say “we” instead of “I” because there’s just not been one second that I’ve felt alone in it, like it’s just MY thing. I may be doing the throwing up, but he’s always–always–insisted on doing the cleaning up.

    I couldn’t be more excited to enter this season of parenting with my husband. I know I get the role of “stay at home Mom,” but I am convinced that I will never be in this alone. Thank you, God, for my incredible husband.

    Number 10: I never knew I could love like this.

    I know that there is sooooooo much more yet to come, but I tell you what…Brian and I just ADORE our son already…I can’t tell you how many times I’ve already cried over how overwhelmed I am with my love for him. Everything–every decision–is so different now that he’s a little person, even if he is still in my womb. Public school vs private school vs homeschool…not just a theoretical debate anymore, but we’re talking about my son. To vaccinate or not to vaccinate…this is my son. Thinking about sending him out into this world before he’s had a chance to root…this is my son. And every sacrifice…is totally not a sacrifice if it has to do with my son. The greatest day in this pregnancy was the day that I started to feel him kick, because then…THEN, I would throw up but feel him KICK afterwards. And this simple reminder each time I throw up is enough to make it all worth it. This is all for my son…and there is no price too high to pay for his health and well-being.

    I love him with all that I am…and I would do anything for him.

    And I never knew I could love my husband like this. And I wouldn’t change a thing about this pregnancy if it means I have a healthy son and an even healthier marriage coming out of this… Because of God’s mercy and love, our marriage has not been weakened, but strengthened with this trial. Our love for each other has grown so much stronger than it ever could have had we not walked through this together. The day before our wedding, someone told us, “Your love is going to continue to get stronger and stronger for one another.” It’s sooo hard to believe that when you are so in love, loving to the capacity you’re capable of, and believe that that capacity couldn’t possibly grow. But wow–how much more you’re capable of loving once you are one! And after each trial, when you realize you, indeed, judged this person’s character correctly on the day you said, “yes”–this man of God is not only everything you thought he was, but MORE…he surprises you every single day by showing you greater glimpses into the character and the mind of God, loving you just as Christ loves the church…by cherishing, not by dominating…just as he promised he would on your wedding day. And at the first trial where you feel completely and utterly worthless…some days unable to get out of bed, let alone SERVE him, he not only stays by your side, but affirms over and over and over how much MORE he loves you now…because he loves your heart…he married you for your heart, not for what you could do. Sooo patient with me, sooo kind to me…the most unconditional love I have ever experience outside of Christ’s…

    And so I have never been more confident than I am now…Everything I need to know about parenthood I learned from pregnancy. Most importantly, that we’re in this together, and our God is in total control of our lives.

    Now, thank God we have the next 25 years to work on mastering these little rules…. 🙂

  • 3D Ultrasound of our little man!

    3D Ultrasound of our little man!

    So a couple weeks ago, we couldn’t help but shell out a bit of cash to get a second glimpse at our little baby boy. The first ultrasound was sooo amazing, and the thought of being able to peek at him again was a temptation we couldn’t resist.

    3D-4D ultrasound is just incredible. There are no other words for it…the fact that we can see a 3D image of our baby while he’s in my womb is almost more than I comprehend. At first his umbilical cord was across his lips like a big mustache, so we couldn’t see the lower half of his face. But later he moved and then it was spread across his neck so we could get a full view of his face. Here are some of our favorites:

    Well, who do YOU think he looks like???!!!

    Isn’t this CRAZY?! There he is!!!!! And no, that’s not a huge growth on his face–he’s pressed up against my placenta, which is that mass covering the right side of his face.  And that dark-ish substance around his neck is the umbilical cord. I just think this shot is so cute :). Isn’t he so sweet?!?

    He’s smiling :).
    Look at how chill he looks! Here, he’s got both his hands behind his neck and you can see his elbows kind of resting beneath his chin. Just chillin’ in Mama’s womb… 😉
    Profile view, left hand behind his neck.
    This is one of my favorites..look at him just crossing his feet like it ain’t no thang :).  (In case it’s hard to tell…this is a profile view of his legs. His knees are on the right side of the photo, and his feet are crossed on the left.)
    Front view without the placenta in his face! The umbilical cord around his neck kinda freaks me out…but the ultrasound tech assured me he’s okay and won’t choke…
    Love this! He still has his hands behind his neck, and now he’s pulled his feet up to his face! Just showing off how flexible he is! 🙂
    His little feet are crossed again…I just think it’s the cutest when he does that!! See all of his little toes on his right foot?? SOOO STINKIN’ CUTE. 

    So there he is, folks! Our adorable little man. We can’t WAIT to see him on the outside. It kind of feels like “cheating” to be able to see him so clearly while he’s still in my womb, but we’ve both discovered that waiting to be surprised when it comes to our baby is not our strong suit. 🙂

    We have 25 more pictures and a 30 minute DVD if you ever have some time to waste and want to come see more of our little man. 🙂

    We adore him…and are counting down the days!

  • Good Morning, 2011

    Good Morning, 2011

    This is what I woke up to on New Year’s Day, 2011. And the words, “Good morning, 2011!” rang through my head. I could see God smiling down at me like he was saying, “Look at this ‘Good Morning’ that I saved for 1-1-11!! Isn’t it beautiful?!? I’m so glad you’re awake to see it…” Yes…it’s simply breathtaking, oh Lord.

    I woke up feeling pretty good, and I remember thinking, “Maybe God’s gift to me this year is no more throwing up!!” I sat, eating my first bowl of cereal while staring at the above view. By the time the sun came up completely I was ready to crawl back in bed for my morning nap, filled to overflowing with hope and anticipation for the upcoming, vomit-free new year.

    When I woke up the second time, I still felt pretty good. So I’m not quite sure why my second bowl of cereal had a hard time staying down… Usually, when I’m eating and I start to gag my next step is a no-brainer–get to the nearest sink, toilet, or bucket as fast as possible. But this time when I gagged, I was so convinced that 2011 was going to be a vomit-free year that I didn’t move. I refused. “No way,” I sternly thought to my stomach muscles, who were gearing up to action. “You stay calm and just let this cereal have its place down there.”

    Wishful thinking, I guess. Because it ALL came up a second later. So much for a “good morning.” 

    I barely made it to the bathroom in time…in fact, a good amount of vomit actually splattered across the bathroom mirror because it was so violently flying out of my mouth, despite the fact that my lips were sealed tight and my hand was covering them for extra reinforcement. I just found that splattered mirror vomit the other day, which is what has triggered this post.

    Because I have thrown up so. many. times. this year already. There are days where I feel like I’m getting worse and I have to remind myself of the horror of my first trimester to put things back into perspective. There is SOOOOOOOOOOOO much to be thankful for….!!!! But my point is, when I saw the vomit splattered across the mirror, my first thought was, “Um, that’s disgusting. How did I miss that when I cleaned up the rest of the vomit mess that day? I wonder who’s come over in the meantime and seen this…?” Gross.

    And my second thought was, “This. Sucks. Royally.” And Shame and Disappointment loudly mocked and criticized the little spirit of Hope that I had woken up with that New Year’s morning. “Who are you to hope? This is your lot–accept it. You’re going to be so sick these last 2 and a half months that you won’t be able to enjoy or anticipate the birth of your son. And you might as well accept the fact now that you will be this sick every time you get pregnant. So forget about having lots of kids. Forget about being a good mom while you’re pregnant with the next one. While you’re at it, forget about ever being able to wake up and say “Good morning” to your husband again. Forget about getting more than 2-3 hours of sleep at a time. Forget about ever being able to eat a meal without gagging again…” 

    The list went on and on. So much so that all I could think about was how sick I am…forgetting about the One who had given me the “good morning” word and the beautiful sunrise to go along with it.

    Thankfully, I follow a God who is so much bigger than all of that crap, who interrupted this worthless monologue and broke into my spirit. “A ‘good’ 2011 has nothing to do with the amount of times you throw up this year. I have provided for you every day so far; do not worry about tomorrow. I will provide for you tomorrow, too.” And the simplicity of that age-old truth reverberated in my spirit. I don’t have to work right now, because God has provided. I don’t have children right now, and so I don’t need to take care of another little human at 6 am. Because God has not given me more than I can bear. And when the fatigue and the weariness are so strong around me that all I can do is cry, God has provided a husband who is strong enough to embrace me in such tender love and remind me of the truth–that God will take care of us. Do not worry about tomorrow, for today has enough troubles of its own…

    So I thought I would have a vomit-free 2011. And that definitely didn’t happen. But health is not my greatest need in 2011. My God is my greatest need. My favorite mentor, Amy Carmichael, once wrote:

    “Not relief from pain, not relief from the weariness that follows, not anything of that sort at all, is my chief need. Thou, O Lord my God, art my need–Thy courage, Thy patience, Thy fortitude. And very much I need a quickened gratitude for the countless helps given every day.” (A Chance to Die, pg.365)

    And so–you know what? It was a “good morning” that first day of 2011. In fact, it was a great morning. Because I have–over and over–been put in a place where I need God to come through day after day more than I need anything else. And is this not the place that is most blessed? 
    I pray for you, too–dear family and friends–that you would be in this most blessed place in 2011. In the place of greatest need and dependency upon the only One who can save you and bring comfort to you.

    Oh, how He loves us…it is a divine, beautiful, glorious love… Thank you, Jesus…

  • Chubby Bunny…Welcome to the Third Trimester

    Maybe it was the restless night of sleep last night that made the circles under my eyes larger than normal or the fact that I threw up for the third time this week this morning that contributed to my slightly swollen-looking cheeks, but for the first time this pregnancy–every time I looked in the mirror today, all I could see was CHUBBY FACE.

    Maybe it’s the fact that I just started wearing maternity clothes this week (I’m currently 28 1/2 weeks) and so there’s no hiding the reality that I’ve crossed over from “Oh, I could still fit into my normal clothes if I wanted” to “there ain’t no hiding this belly if I tried”…and that’s a bit scary…

    Maybe it’s the fact that I eat 8 meals EVERY DAY, including two FULL-SIZE lunches and two FULL-SIZE dinners, and I’ve just been waiting for all those calories to catch up to me and to wake up one morning and realize I AM LITERALLY A COW.

    Or maybe it’s the fact that, for the last 2 months, I have–unashamedly–had a cheeseburger NEARLY EVERY SINGLE DAY–usually for my second lunch, but sometimes for my first dinner.

    Whatever it is though, today I felt B-I-G.

    We were just getting ready to head out the door when Brian told me how beautiful I looked, especially being pregnant. (He’s so good at affirming me all the time, totally unprompted, and though I’ve always been thankful for that trait in him, I’m starting to realize how incredibly blessed I am to know that no matter how chubby I get, I really do have this man who just adores me all the time. He has seen me at my WORST this pregnancy, and if he can genuinely look me in the eyes when I have vomit splattered all over my face, mucus dripping out of my nose & mouth, and pee running down my legs–all at the same time–and tell me he loves me then, then I’m convinced chubby cheeks are not going to scare him away…) But tonight I took the opportunity to press him a little bit…

    “Really? I feel like my face is starting to look quite chubby…”

    “Oh, well, you do have two full-sized marshmallows stuffed in your cheeks, don’t you?”

    And the ensuing laughter, believe it or not, caused me to forget about my chubby cheek fears and we headed out to a concert in the juvenile prison headed up by my dear friend Chrisy.

    We were lovingly greeted by one of our friends who immediately noted the flip-flops I was wearing (it’s about 45 degrees out) and very innocently asked, “Oh, do your shoes not fit you anymore?”

    Ha! Chubby cheeks, and now apparently chubby feet.

    “No–they do,” I said with a little smile, frantically trying to figure out a way I could prove that to her in that very moment. I seriously glanced at every person’s shoes around me, trying to see if anyone looked like they wore a size 8.

    Suddenly, images of me violently ripping shoes off people’s feet and awkwardly bouncing on one foot (me and my unbalanced, chubby pregnant self)  as I tried to jam the coveted “size 8” onto my own chubby foot, frighteningly flashed through my head as the words “ugly step-sister” scrolled through my brain. My feet cried out to me from within, “YOU ARE CINDERELLA!!!” I wanted to believe them, but could find no proof.

    After snapping back into reality and quickly realizing how illogical my little daydream was, I simply explained (trying to stay calm and not sound too defensive), “I just got a pedicure today which is why I had them on in the first place, and I figured I’m so hot all the time anyway that it seemed to make sense to just keep the flip-flops on for the night…”

    Are my feet chubby, too?? I couldn’t help but stare at them the rest of the night in wonder.

    Shortly thereafter a perfect stranger came up to me and said, “When’s your baby due?”

    “March!” I said with a smile.

    “Whoa, you still have a ways to go!”

    “You’re telling me….” I responded.

    “So are you having twins or something?”

    WOW. Chubby cheeks, chubby feet, and now apparently–chubby tummy. All in one day.

    “Nope…just one in there,” I responded. And then my chubby feet and I walked away.

    It’s currently 10:00 pm. I just finished my second dinner, which happened to be (drum roll please)…a cheeseburger. I’m closing out my Chubby Bunny Day with a gingerbread cookie (or four…oops) and the knowledge that my husband adores me and many of my friends constantly affirm how cute I am. And if they’re all just making it up to make me feel better…well, I’ll always have my cheeseburgers.

    🙂

  • The Tale of the Second Chromosome

    The Tale of the Second Chromosome

    I couldn’t sleep last night, because all I did all night long was dream and think about the fact that today we would find out such a special part of who our baby is.

    Today was our 20 week ultrasound, that would tell us if God has given us a boy or a girl.

    I was literally so excited this morning that I’m certain it was my fault that I threw up. Mornings are still quite difficult, and I’m telling you–if I breathe too quickly or say too many words or even look at someone for too long, I will throw up. Well, this morning, I woke up with the biggest smile on my face, jumped out of bed, threw a special load of laundry in (our blue & pink t-shirts!), bounded down the stairs, grabbed my bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios (you’ll all be happy to know that I’ve moved on from the Lucky Charms phase) and sat down on the couch to stare at the gorgeous water and rising sun. At that moment, Brian was walking towards our house after just coming from a run, and I began to wave frantically, bouncing up and down. And it was in that moment that the familiar feeling took over my body, and I realized that I needed to calm down fast. But, like the kid who already has cookie crumbs on his face when his mom catches him reaching into the jar for the second time, it was too late.

    But it was okay! Nothing could steal my joy! I just had to sit in time out for the remainder of the morning until it was time to leave… 🙂

    We each wore white to our appointment, and packed our matching blue and pink t-shirts with us to change into as soon as we found out…

    [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0C3i7XfzTM?fs=1]
    (We’re whispering, so you’ll have to turn your volume way up to hear us)

    I laid down on the table and Brian clenched my hand. You couldn’t have wiped the ridiculous grin off my face. I literally could not handle the suspense for one more second. I had to know if this baby–whom I was convinced was a boy–really was.

    The ultrasound tech had barely put the ultrasound wand on my stomach when she said,

    “You’re having a boy!”
    I gasped and cried and squeezed Brian’s hand so tightly, who also had tears in his eyes. And, ever since that moment, I have been seeing everything in blue.
    Watching Baby MoBoy (the new nickname!) on that monitor was, by far, one of the most incredible experiences I’ve ever had. He was just so cute…the most perfect baby I have ever seen…and the experience was just breath-taking…like watching a miracle kick and stretch and swallow right before your eyes. My eyes were glued to the screen as tears just poured down my face for those 30 minutes of glory. All I want to do for the rest of my life is stare at our son… Our son!!! 
    This was the very first position we saw him in:
    Is he not the most adorable thing you have ever seen?!?! Later he stretched his legs out straight and arched his back…which is when I exclaimed, “Ope! Yep, there it is! Definitely a boy!”
    We could see every bone in his spine, his stomach (that’s the black hole at the bottom of his tummy), his beating heart, the umbilical cord…oh, what a miracle. She counted every toe and every finger (10 and 10!), and even noticed that he had small ears for the size of his enormous head. Then she looked at Brian and said, “Oh yeah–you have small ears, too!” He is going to look just like his daddy, which pleases me beyond words :).




    Here are a few more favorites:




    All glory goes to God, who has kept our little peanut healthy and strong during the last 5 months…The ultrasound tech used the word “healthy” more times than I could count, and when we met with our midwife, she did the same…praise God he is healthy for all my body has been through!! Baby MoBoy’s head is in the 92nd percentile!! Yikes!! His abdominal circumference is 54%; femur length–78%; humerus length–>95%! He weighs 12 oz!! Our little buddy is not so little!! Long arms, long legs, a big head and a normal waist :). He is perfect. 

    The After Tale:

    We ended up going back home to change so I could eat my normal lunch of steak and mashed potatoes before beginning our journey of telling our family and friends. My parents were in Germany at the time, and I was so bummed at the fact that we may not be able to get a hold of them. WELL, I called anyway in hopes of leaving a message for the next time they turned on their phones, and my dad answered!!! It was the greatest blessing in the world…I couldn’t believe it! So my parents were the first people we told and they were in Germany!! Then, we set off in our blue shirts to tell Brian’s family and some of our good friends.

    [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dw3WDyILaZ8?fs=1]

    Here are our matching t-shirts!

    Our first stop was seeing Brian’s mom, who we knew was in the middle of her recess time at school. We hadn’t told anyone that we were getting our ultrasound that day because we wanted to just show up on people’s doorsteps with our matching t-shirts and see if they could figure it out. We spotted Marilyn instantly, and we walked right up to her on the playground. She soon figured it out and was so excited!


    We visited the rest of Brian’s immediate family (with the exception of Angela who is in Spokane) and several of our friends. We have to give kudos to Kevin and Melisa who were, of everyone, the quickest to figure it out without us saying anything. We visited Melisa at her current work. She said, “Oh cute, guys! Matching outfits!! Wait…YOU’RE HAVING A BOY!!!!!” Others, who didn’t catch on quite as fast would say, “What are you guys up to?” To which we’d respond, “Oh, we just wanted to stop by and show you our new shirts!” Then our friends would look at us like we were out of our minds, and say, “Cool, guys………..” and be really confused until they finally figured it out… It was awesome :). We loved it. 


    Well, everyone! Thank you for reading The Tale of the Second Chromosome! We are so excited to share our news with you!!! 


        
  • For Better or For Worse

    For Better or For Worse

    God gave me the most incredible husband on the face of this earth and beyond.

    I’ve thought many-a-times over the last few months, “So this is what they mean when they say, ‘or for worse’….” I’ve heard a lot of people reference vomiting as one of the first “for worses” (I know that’s not a word) that they experience as a married couple. I don’t know what it is about having partially chewed, blended food mixed with stomach acid come back up and into sight again that so quickly trumps every fight, quarrel and difficulty, and qualifies it as a “for worse.” But, it’s true. There have been countless nights of Brian waking up to the sound of my heaving and the familiar splash into my faithful bucket–over, and over, and over. But he’s never ONCE in those moments been awakened from his sleep and ever said anything like, “So this is what they mean when they say, ‘or for worse’.” No, he’s always responded in immediate selflessness, immediate service, immediate affirmation, and immediate love. And you know, you can do anything for a week or even a month. But I tell you what…come month 2, 3… of constant nausea and vomiting, I was so defeated and he was still so strong. I had tried EVERYTHING, but my body is no longer my own…there is nothing I can do to get it back under my control. So when the third throw up of the night would come, all I could think was, “This is the worst…and there’s nothing I can do about it…” And Brian would barely be out of his slumber before he was quenching my fear with truth and hope: “Oh, I’m sorry…you’re doing such a great job! You’re such a great mother to our baby! You’re going to make it…it’s going to be okay…”

    Today, I broke my 10-day vomit-free streak. Brian had just left to go to breakfast with a friend when the nausea that had plagued me for the previous 3 hours finally took over and discovered the outside world by launching itself through my throat and out of my mouth.

    “I’ll always have those 10 days!” I texted him, after relaying the news.

    “I’m so sorry, my Love,” he so gently and lovingly replied.

    He got home from breakfast, came immediately upstairs to check on me, held me for a moment with such tender compassion, and then without saying a word, he picked up my vomit bucket to bring into the bathroom to wash out, a routine he has become quite practiced at the last 3 months. “I haven’t gotten to do this for you in 10 days!” he joyfully declared.

    And with tears in my eyes, I just silently thanked God again for this man He has brought into my life, who serves me with such a gracious love and whose attitude towards this “for worse” could not be better. Without ever being asked to do so, Brian has cleaned out my vomit bucket virtually every single day and night–multiple times–for the last 3 months. And he’s never batted an eyelash. He has held my hair back when I didn’t have a hair tie. He has learned to know what I need when I don’t even know what I need. He knows when to just let me be, and when to distract me from the constant nausea and pain. He knows when to stay clear of me (at times, any little movement triggers the vomiting) and when to gently rub my back or hold my hand. He knows when to empathize with me, to just hold me and listen and tell me it’s going to be okay. And he knows when to encourage me and press me out of my tears and defeat, helping me declare hope over my body and our baby. He stays so strong, even when I have convinced myself and the world around me that vomiting must be my destiny for eternity. He’s always on top of putting a new bottle of apple juice in the fridge when the current one is getting low and buying me more boxes of Lucky Charms when we’re almost out (yes, apple juice and Lucky Charms are my two “needs” first thing every morning…blame it on Baby Moby!). He has picked up my slack in laundry, cleaning, dishes, grocery shopping…driven me to get Vitamin B shots in my bottom when I couldn’t drive myself…beared with me–mostly ;)–when all I craved my first trimester was watching Christmas movies over and over and over again.

    And I’m just finally grasping that this “for worse” has really served as an amazing “for better” in our lives and in our marriage. We have grown so much as a team these last few months; our love for each other has deepened and widened… We have been through this trial TOGETHER… Praise you, oh God for this “for better” in our lives right now! Give me the understanding to see every “for worse” as it really is–as a “for better” in your hands…

  • Officially showing…14 Weeks!

    From the moment we informed people about our pregnancy, people have been saying to me, “Well you look great!” Which, I’ll be honest, has baffled me a bit. Were they expecting me to gain 50 pounds upon conception? I’d BETTER look great NOW or else I’d have a REAL problem in 8 months! 🙂


    I lost a few pounds (thanks to my obsession with vomiting the last 2 1/2 months) and so starting about two weeks ago (at 12 weeks) you could see a small, but definitely pronounced, little tiny baby bump because I didn’t have any tummy left to hide it. So some people at that point said, “I see a little bump…but you look great!” At about that time was the first time I could feel myself needing the “you look great” affirmation, so at that point I WAS thankful for everyone’s kind remarks. But if you didn’t know me you would for sure just think I pigged out at lunch and decided not to hold my belly in. 


    Well, yesterday, EVERYTHING CHANGED. From the instant I walked into our church building, I had friends shout from across the room, “You’ve got a belly!!” Literally–every single person I saw put their hand on my “belly” and awed at how huge I’ve become. No you-look-great’s last night! Only, “Wow, you’ve got a huge belly!” It’s so hilarious that suddenly, for the first time in my life, it’s okay to be fat. I suck in my tummy as far as I can, and my belly still sticks out. I must say, I did have one very kind friend tell me that if you didn’t know I was pregnant, you wouldn’t be able to tell. 


    The most ironic part to me is that today I went in for a check-up and they weighed me. I happened to be in the clinic exactly 10 days ago, and when they weighed me then I was still about 4 pounds under my pre-pregnancy starting weight. Well, today when they weighed me, I had apparently gained back all 4 of those pounds, and I’m now back to my pre-pregnancy weight. I’m sorry…did you catch you that? I’VE GAINED 4 POUNDS IN 10 DAYS. And I’m still throwing up almost daily! How does that happen?!? If I continue at this rate, I will gain 73 more pounds before giving birth! Ah! 


    Anyway, that’s not even my point. My point is this: That, last night, I was (apparently) back at my PRE-pregnancy weight, and it was the first time that everyone I saw commented on how big my belly was. Umm…I’m starting to wonder if people have ALWAYS thought I had a big belly…? I mean, I know I’ve skimped on the sit-ups the last few years, but did I have a weight problem that I didn’t even know about?? Friends, if any of you would like to have a care-front with me, I am open.


    But really, the truth is, I LOVE having a belly :). I cannot WAIT to get bigger and bigger and bigger and actually have a reason to wear maternity clothes! I cannot WAIT to sport my belly with pride! For those of you that know me well, you know that I have ALWAYS loved to push my belly out as far as I can and hold it as if I were pregnant. I can’t even remember ever NOT loving to caress my belly as if it contained a sweet baby. People used to get really uncomfortable when I would do that, but NOW look at who’s caressing my belly! Every friend and perfect stranger that I see! So don’t call ME crazy…

  • August Madness Part 2

    August Madness Part 2

    As if growing a baby, throwing up multiple times a day and being in two weddings weren’t enough challenges for the month of August, we decided to go Mazatlan.

    As many of you know, other than spiders & heights, I’m not scared of too many things. Especially international travel. Let me remind you that I ventured to Mexico by myself at age 17, barely speaking the language, and having no clue what I was doing. But I was I scared? Not really.

    But I was scared to death of flying to Mazatlan at 10 weeks pregnant. Because all I did every day, all day long, was throw up. Throw the idea of a very early morning flight, a plane, and the country of MEXICO into the mix, and I am shaking in my boots.

    The journey to Mazatlan was one I’ll never forget. If you’d like to read about my recount of the trip to Mexico, click here:

    http://www.themobergs.com/2010/08/11/the-journey-to-mazatlan/

    If you have a weak stomach yourself, I wouldn’t read it… If you need a good laugh, I would. 🙂 The very short, much less entertaining version is this: I threw up all the way to Mexico.

    Somehow I had managed to have every friend, family member, and stranger that I ran into before I trip praying for me, and…it worked. I was trying a new combo of vitamin B & anti-nausea meds while there, and during the 4 full days we were in Mexico, I only threw up once. That’s miraculous. So I figured I’d hit the jackpot in the perfect meds combo! That is, until I got home, did the EXACT same thing, and still threw up multiple times a day. It was then that I realized that God must have had His strong hand upon me and all of my fear during our Mexico stay.

    However, once I returned HOME, I got incredibly sick (which was kicked-off by my first restaurant throw-up), incredibly de-hydrated, and ended up in the hospital overnight. Another first for me. So Brian and I had a sleepover at St. Joe’s, which is where we are planning on delivering the baby. It was altogether a great experience, and we were both actually really thankful for it. I learned a lot about ways to keep hydrated, my body, and signs to look for when I’m heading down the wrong path. Apparently seeing stars is not a normal symptom of pregnancy…who knew?

    I’m sure you’re wondering, why on earth did we plan a trip to Mexico in my first trimester?? Well, Brian has been listening to a guy named Lance Wallnau, who is a Christian Business guy (that’s how I describe him…not sure what his official title is…). Brian has been incredibly motivated by his message and has just loved all of his teachings. His basic premise is, if, as believers, we are to be advancing the Kingdom of God, then we can’t ALL be solely working in the church. He points out “7 Mountains” of the world–Religion (the Church), Business, Government, Arts & Entertainment, Media, Education, and Family. Each of these “mountains” needs Christians within them–we can’t all flock to the church, thinking that’s the only way to do ministry. He basically says, “Take your passions, whether they be for the church or for politics, and use them for the glory of God!” Anyhow, it’s a really powerful message and he’s a fantastic speaker. He reminds me of Jerry Seinfeld. 🙂 So, Brian and I both felt this would be a strategic conference to attend, knowing that Brian likely wouldn’t be doing construction forever. He doesn’t want to work just to work…he wants to be advancing the Kingdom of God within the realm of the passions and the gifts that God has given him.

    So, all in all, the conference was really great. Brian got several personal touches with Lance and left the trip really encouraged and motivated. I was glad to be there with Brian, but honestly quite distracted as the morning sessions were the meat of each day, and mornings and I do not mix in this season. So although I didn’t throw up, I was so nauseaus that that was mostly all I could think about. I would sit there and imagine my exit route in case the vomit began to creep its way up my throat. But I really loved the evening sessions!! 🙂

    I’m so glad we went. And I hope I never have to go to Mexico when I’m 10 weeks pregnant ever again.

  • “The Baby Moby Story”

    “The Baby Moby Story”

    So there we were at church on a Wednesday night, and my pastor came up to me and said, “Are you pregnant?” 


    “No!” I quickly responded.


    Without hesitation, he asked again. “Are you SURE?”


    At which point, I paused, did some quick thinking and calculations and replied, “No….”


    And he just shrugged his shoulders with a little smirk and left it at that.  


    Now, a little background: As many of you probably know, Brian and I have each been ready to have kids for years. We considered trying as soon as we got married, but both felt like it was of utmost importance to have a solid first year under our belts before throwing a baby into the Moberg mix! Since neither of us were (really) working for the first 4 months of our marriage, we have been INCREDIBLY blessed to have spent A LOT of time together over this last year. We spent most of every waking & sleeping moment together those first 4 months, which, considering most couples have to work all day and don’t see each other till around 5 or 6 every evening, we figured our first 4 months should count as an entire year!! 🙂


    Anyhow, we’re definitely not saying that our marriage is perfect or that we’ve solved every problem in our first year so we shouldn’t have anymore the rest of our lives…BUT we do feel like we have gotten an incredible amount of “together” time, and we were for sure ready to start building our family. 


    So–back to Wednesday night church–I told Brian what our pastor had said and we both just laughed, knowing it was highly unlikely that I was pregnant. And some point that night someone making announcements said, “Raise your hand if you’re a parent in here.” And Brian and I just looked at each other and giggled and dreamed…


    Well, there was for sure a bug in my ear, and so I began to watch my body (and the calendar) like a hawk. A week and a half later when I was late, we couldn’t even believe it…


    So, the thing is, we HAD stopped being “careful,” but apparently about one minute later we were pregnant. (I guess I got the “Fertile Mertile” gene from my mom…thanks, Mom!!) We were ABSOLUTELY not expecting it to happen so quickly. When we took the pregnancy test and saw the two pink lines I just kept saying, “But how did this happen? Is this really REAL?!?!”
    We’re parents!!!
    Two pink lines!!!

    Look at this photo of my mom when she was pregnant with me! She is so little with just a big bump! I hope I look this good when I’m 9 months pregnant!!

    This is me, attempting to figure out how I’ll look when at 9 months pregnant… I think I look just like my mom! 🙂

    So our pastor intuitively knew before either of us did… Later, when we told him, he just laughed and said, “I knew it! You just had this glow about you!” And I didn’t even know I was glowing!! 🙂


    We kept it to ourselves for a couple weeks until we could get in to the doctor to confirm the pregnancy. At the end of my 5th week it was confirmed, and I was beginning to feel nauseous, so it was feeling a bit more real. The first day of Week 6 I began throwing up, and at the beginning of Week 7 we had an ultrasound that showed us our little baby and his/her heartbeat. Oh, what a miracle. Truly the hand of God… 


    There was a real, live baby growing in my tummy, we had a picture to prove it, and we were finally ready to tell people :). You all found out shortly thereafter…

  • The Journey to Mazatlan

    Here is my recount of the journey to Mexico, taken out of my journal from August 11, 2010:

    As I kneeled over the poop-streaked toilet in the SeaTac Airport heaving and gagging and throwing up the final remains of stomach bile left inside of me, I thought, “You know, this could be a lot worse.” It was about 4:15am, and that was my third throw-up of the day so far. And I’d only been awake an hour and a half.

    But seriously–I was thankful for the seat liner that I had managed to tear out and get on the toilet seat before I clung to it with both hands and vomited. I thought, I’m thankful this isn’t a port-a-potty. That would be a lot worse.

    This has been a week-and-a-half of “firsts” for me. Last Monday I had my first “missed the trash can vomit.” Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself…4 weeks of throwing up every day and I hadn’t once made a mess. Well that opened the door to Friday–a day I checked off three firsts–my first all-over-the-car throw up, my first all-over-me throw up and my first side-of-the-road-while-strangers-are-staring-at-me throw up. They all came consecutively, and it was positively disgusting. Purple Cream of Wheat that seemed to never end…it just kept coming and coming and coming…

    Did I mention that was the morning of Chrisy & John’s wedding? Well, it was. I managed to get my self cleaned up, showered, and to the getting ready location, just in time for the zipper on my dress to break an hour before we were due for pictures. (And I know what you’re thinking, but the answer is, “NO–I was not too fat for my dress! There was PLENTY of room…it was a dress malfunction. In fact two other bridesmaids’ dresses did the same thing right before the wedding…bummer.) So, I had to be sewn into my dress. A big time first for me.
    Sunday was our first anniversary, and I threw up all day. And Brian so graciously cleaned up my vomit all day. What a first year anniversary to remember.

    So that brings us to today. Woke up at 2:45 am, drank my Essentials (liquid vitamins) and threw it up at 3. Got in the car and headed to the airport at 3:15. Threw up in the car–in the trash can this time–around 3:45. I was so proud of myself for making it in the bucket, that I just sat back in revelry, smiling at my small victory.

    When, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the shivering butterfly (see “August Madness Part 1” for the story of the shivering butterfly) resurrected from some unknown place, attacked my face (I’d like to think of it as a gesture of love) and practically scared me out of my skin! I screamed, threw my hands in the air and…you see where this is going…kicked the bucket with my nicely contained vomit! Vomit. Spilled. Everywhere.

    Once my heart attack settled down, my mother’s heart kicked into full gear and suddenly I was ooing and ahhing over my long lost shivering butterfly. In true Susanne fashion, I began speaking words of comfort to my friend… “Hi!! You’re alive!! Oh, are you okay?! I thought you might have died!” I carefully placed him on my finger (without touching his wings, of course), and after a few parting words I set him free in the SeaTac Airport parking garage…praying all the way to our flight check-in that he would find his way to a good home.

    Which is when I found my way to the “this could really be a lot worse” toilet, and then threw up for the third time that day.

    While waiting for our flight, I spent most of the time in the bathroom stall heaving and gagging. Which is when I realized, it’s not so much fun throwing up in an automatic flush toilet. Yep, I’d picked “poop-stained” over automatic flush any day. Every time I’d heave, it would flush on me! Suck the seat cover right down and then I’d have to jump up (the thought of public toilet water splashing up onto my face–or God forbid, into my MOUTH–was enough to not only find the energy to jump up so quickly, but also to–you guessed it–heave and gag over and over again. A horrible, horrible Catch 22 of which I hope to never be part of again. But, you see…I was right…I knew it could be a lot worse.
    My first throw up on the flight to Phoenix was probably the worst. Since I had absolutely nothing left in my stomach, and since I was sitting upright, my first few dry heaves came out like deep, angry “ribbits” from a very sick, very large frog. Over and over–Ribbit! Ribbit! Ribbit!…–and no vomit. Until finally my ribbits were able to reach down to the depths of my stomach and pull out the remaining few drops of stomach bile.

    It was quite a miserable 2 1/2 hours of my life. With every minute that passed, all I could think was, “Ok, Susanne…you can do this. That’s 60 seconds that you never have to re-do again….you can do this…” The funny thing is, when you throw up in a public place like that (especially continuasly) people don’t know what to do. So they just stare at you with the “I’m-so-sorry face.” The flight attendant would just stand in the aisle, staring at me with this hopeless demeanor. I was in such a sick daze, and I remember being so far out of control that I couldn’t even stare back at them with my “Just-stop-staring-at-me face.” They A-L-L were digging through their seat pockets and passing down their barf bags to Brian. I think we collected about 20 barf bags from that flight, which was awesome! They are way better than plastic bags because they’re actually lined and can seal shut. (Things you wish you didn’t have to learn by experience…) Anyhow, I did get smart after my first plane vomiting experience and asked for some Ginger Ale. At least then when it was time to throw up, there would be something in my stomach to come up. Plus it made the flight attendant feel like she was doing something to help. So–my second 2 vomits were lighter on the ribbits and heavier on the Ginger Ale. My first (three) airplane throw-ups.

    By the time we got to Phoenix and I just had the chance to sit on solid ground, my stomach definitely began to settle. It also helped that it was in the 9 o’clock hour at this point. I ate an orange–and kept it down!!

    By the grace of God, there was an empty seat in our row on the flight to Mazatlan, so Brian sat in the aisle seat and I got to lay across the middle and rest my head on his lap. I fell asleep almost instantly and slept the entire flight. And if was sleeping the entire flight, that means I wasn’t…you got it! Throwing up!! It was a miracle!! By the time we landed in Mazatlan, my stomach felt great! I ate a nectarine, a jello pudding and some trail mix…life was looking good!!

    That is, until we boarded the shuttle that was to bring us to our hotel…

    First of all, it was hot. Really hot, and really muggy. Apparently there was some sort of “fan” on our shuttle but I never felt even the slightest breeze… I continued to snack away, happily chatting with the couple in front of us (just so thankful that I survived the trip from h-e-double hockey sticks). They said the shuttle ride would be about 45 minutes (even though the resort was only 7 miles from the airport). We understood why as soon as we got stopped in a traffic jam unlike any other. There are no real “lanes” in Mexico. If you think your car can fit inbetween two others, you just squeeze it in. It was completely stopped, with no hope in sight…

    We were creeping along in this parking lot when all of a sudden, our shuttle driver makes a hard 90 degree swerve to the right, and tears into an alley way. He picks up speed so that he is FLYING through this alley way, pot holes and all, making sharp, fast turns down a maze of alleys… Brian looked at me with big eyes. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, quite concerned. “Yeah! Yeah…I’ll be fine…” I said unconvincingly. I was so determined to not throw up again that I was going to do anything I could to keep that food in my stomach. About 20 seconds later I realized I’d better get a barf bag in my hands in my hands fast, and about 30 seconds later, it all came back up. ALL OF IT. Warm chocolate jello pudding tainted with the smell of peanuts pouring out of my mouth. I thought the smell alone might kill me.

    But, we eventually made it. I have never been so thankful to be on solid, unmoving ground. We got to our air-conditioned room, I crawled into bed, and I slept for several hours…just so, so, so, so, so, so thankful that the trip to Mexico was over. Only one more trip back home left…