Saturday, February 21, 2009

First post

Welcome to the latest flavor of The Kil Empire! The Shutterfly photo site still exists, but I don't think I'm going to continue updating it. Not that you ever did, you say sarcastically. Yes, I know, I reply nervously, but I hope to do better this time.

I've been thinking of starting a blog for a long time...this particular space has been reserved and sitting vacant for three months, after I thought about signing up with Blogger for a couple
years. It seems like an excellent venue for keeping in touch with far-flung friends and family. By the way, friends and family--if you've recently noticed your blog getting a lot of hits from a particular area, it's me. I've been scouring your blogs in order to steal all your ideas and try to make mine as good as yours.

Well, onward. I will give you what you're here for: Ike.

(You can click on any picture to see it larger.)

On November 2nd (his 11-month birthday), he started walking--well, drunkenly tottering and mostly falling. Within the week he was walking all over the house, chin down so he could watch his feet, fat belly sticking out, chuckling and hooting with pride. It was as if he dreamed of improvements and woke up each day with new skills. He soon progressed to running, and now the soundtrack of my day is the incessant pitter-patter of little feet.

This all means that the world (well, the first three vertical feet of it) is now his oyster. Our house is minimally baby-proofed. I bought some cabinet locks, but it turns out they won't fit our cupboards without some labor-intensive modifications. I've been neither ambitious enough to practically rebuild the cabinets or seek out locks that fit, so Ike spends large portions of his day banging the doors open and shut and rummaging within, and I spend large portions of my day saying "NO!" Most of the stuff is okay for him to play with--Gladware and measuring cups--but damn, does he love to make a mess.

December 2nd was Ike's first birthday. He did his best to pretend he was not the subject of a photo sitting at JC Penney (although, to my amazement, most of the proofs were great), and later we went out for dinner, but it was easy to tell that he thought the highlight of the day was birthday cake.

Birthday cake mosaic

Actually, he loves to eat in general. He rarely turns things down, with a few notable exceptions--he actually
cried when I merely offered him some Thanksgiving turkey, but he enjoyed the leftovers the next day. He's quite the omnivore--peanut butter toast, avocado, pasta, apples, and, apparently, lemons:

Eating a lemon at my former employer's Christmas party

Ike loves to read:


This happily coincides with his aforementioned love of mess-making. Every day he throws all his books on the floor in his room. Then he strews his toys around. Sometimes he pulls his clothes out of his dresser and flings them about. (Occasionally, he puts them in his hamper, as if to help me with the laundry. So cute! Yet so frustrating!) Then he proceeds to litter the rest of the house with sundry baby toys and accessories.

He likes to have books read to him as well. He excitedly gets into my lap and puts his little hands out, fingers spread, in anticipation of turning the pages. I have to be mindful of the word-to-picture ratio, however. If the words outweigh the pictures, I have to create a CliffsNotes version on the spot, otherwise he'll lose interest and wiggle away.

Ike loves to play:

Ike and his can of Lavazza espresso

Especially with things that are not actually toys. (That's a can of espresso he carried around for about an hour on Christmas Eve.) When he learned to crawl, it was his joy to raid the Tupperware cabinet, stack all the containers and gnaw the lids all day. His Uncle Nate gave him a "Runaway Bunny" gift set. It came with the book and a soft stuffed rabbit. All Ike cared about was the box it was packaged in. I've quieted him in a middle-of-the-night cryfest by letting him play with a little plastic bottle of anti-gas medicine.

Ike's loud and opinionated (in some language that's not English) but he balances it with a sense of humor. A couple nights ago he kept falling face-first into a pillow, laughing at himself and looking up to make sure we were laughing, too. Dave tells me often, "I love my baby. He's so great."


On January 13th, I had a strange inkling. So I peed on a pregnancy test (or 5, but who's counting?). The second line was faint, but it was still a line. Was it very early pregnancy, or residual hormones from the recent miscarriage? Was that even possible? At my post-D&C checkup, my doctor said he wanted me to come in right away if/when I got pregnant again. He said it was likely that, should I choose, I would go on to have successful pregnancies, but he also said there were some things that could be done very early to minimize the chances of another miscarriage.

I went to my doctor for a blood test on the 15th. I was supposed to be able to call for the results the next afternoon, which was a Friday. The day dragged by. I called about 1 P.M. and was baffled to get the office voicemail service. I called about six times before noticing that the message stated they closed at noon on Fridays!

So I bit my fingernails all weekend and studied, an informative site that I cannot believe exists, or that I'm admitting that's how I spent the weekend. On Monday I called the nurse, and she confirmed that I was pregnant. My hCG (the "pregnancy hormone") level seemed low, so she wanted me to get my blood drawn again and see if the numbers had gone up (hCG levels double every 72 hours in early pregnancy).

I was surprised but didn't allow myself to get excited. Dave kept reminding me not to get excited. My pregnancy with Ike was so normal and uneventful that we were spoiled and assumed subsequent pregnancies should be no different. The miscarriage kind of took away that innocence.

I got all set to bundle Ike up and drive up to Grand Rapids. I called Dave to fill him in. "You can't go anywhere," he told me. I assumed he meant the roads were bad (Michigan winter, you know) and started yelping about how I was an excellent driver. But no, he meant I literally couldn't go anywhere. His car wouldn't start that morning (flat battery), so he'd taken my truck to work. I had to wait until tomorrow.

The next morning, Ike and I drove up to a clinic in Grand Rapids. I'd forgotten about Obama's inauguration until I turned on the radio. We watched part of the ceremony in the waiting room before my blood draw. They said I could call my doctor's office for the results that afternoon. We met up with Dave for lunch at a very quiet, empty Red Robin and half watched Obama's speech. I suggested that, if there was a baby in there somewhere, we might name it Barack.

Late in the afternoon, I called the nurse, and she said my hCG levels had risen exponentially. I hung up, swore (mildly), and told the embryo that I was excited and counting on him/her now. I had to figure out how to keep myself sane for the next three weeks, until an ultrasound to confirm a progressing pregnancy.

It was a very long three weeks. But on February 11th, we saw a little bean with a heartbeat. Afterward we indulged in a healthy lunch of hot dogs, soda, and French fries. I imagined Ike was so happy because of the good news, but I know he was really just digging the French fries:

Hot dogs and French fries

When I had my initial blood draw, I'd also had a culture done to check for something called "ureaplasma." (Don't start Googling it or you may needlessly horrify yourself, as Dave and I did.) It's a bacteria that's present in a lot of people, usually without causing any symptoms or problems. There is a theory that it can possibly cause miscarriage, so my doctor started me on antibiotics as a precaution. It turns out the culture was positive, so I have to take antibiotics for 10 days per month until the 20th week of pregnancy.

I'm coming up on 10 weeks. The due date is September 22nd. I haven't really wanted to tell anyone about this, as if saying "I'm pregnant" will jinx the baby. But to prove to myself that I'm not superstitious--and because I feel like I'm gigantic already--guess what, I'm pregnant.


  1. Congratulations, Sarah.
    (Amy & Brian.)

    (I had an inkling at dinner the other night...)

  2. Ah, late night blogging! Melody & I were just saying last night that we thought there was another Kil coming. Congrats!

  3. 1) Congratulations!!!

    2) Yay! Regular (or occasional?) (or sporadic?) updates from one of my favorite people!

  4. You are a funny girl, Ms. Blogger. You just told the world! Sept. 21 is so much the better. Good luck! Better start preparing Ike to share his kingdom!

  5. Wonderful News!
    Love you guys!
    Jme & Patti

  6. Sarc,

    You rock! So glad to hear the news (publicly). I am very excited. And your blog is much better & more exciting than mine. You can teach me. Love you! Danibell

  7. Hi Sarah! Hope you're feeling well. Ike just gets cuter & cuter. Can't wait to hear what he thinks about having a baby brother or sister. Give Dave our love. Take care. Aunt Patti

  8. You did great on your blog. I am so glad to hear everything is going well with your pregnancy. Ike is just about the happiest baby I've ever seen (except mine of course)! keep adding to the blog I love reading them.

  9. I am so happy for you.
    Giving life is great, teaching/educating that life is excellent, motherhood priceless!!

    Momma D. (Give Ike a hug!!)