What have I done?

I was going to make a post tonight about it being a year ago today that we traveled to Atlanta, and while that is on my heart today, it's not what's bothering me the most tonight.

I am worrying about Tessa and what having this baby is going to do to her. First of all, let me preface what I am about to say with this: I love my daughter. She is the light of my world, and I would die for her. But, she can be difficult at times, especially with me. My parents were always very, very hard on me growing up, expecting perfection most of the time, and I always swore I wouldn't do that with Tessa. So, I've never been a strict disciplinarian with her at all, and she knows I'm not and takes advantage of it at times.

She's also high-spirited, strong-willed and a drama queen, and truth be told, I've spoiled her, even though I hate that term. Food spoils; kids don't, is what I usually say, but Tessa is really used to getting her own way with me. Now, don't take that to mean I let her get away with dangerous or age-inappropriate activities. She's safe with me, but she knows I will let her stay up 15 minutes later than normal or give her an extra serving of ice cream.

We have been working on getting her to accept the fact that when I say no, I mean it, but it's been a slow go. She knows it with Brian, my aunt (who babysits her), at school, but with me, I think she knows that no matter what she does, I'm always going to love her, so she really lets go with me.

Also, she is used to spending a lot of time with me. In the evenings, we read, watch television together and sometimes I even lay down with her as she's going to sleep. Usually, it's just the two of us because Brian has to go to bed so early for his job. I do everything for her, and I usually can get whatever she wants right away. Honestly, we've been working on her independence issues a lot over the past year, and now, if she wants a snack, she can get it herself and doesn't expect me to do it. But, I've heard kids regress when a new baby is born, so I'm expecting her to lose some of this independence. I know that would be the normal thing to happen.

Now, I hate that I've made her out to be some kind of little monster, because she's not. I love her spirit, and I love how close we are. At times, I don't even mind the drama queen bit, because it's just her personality. It's a part of her. My friend at work once told me that his daughter reminded him a bit of that poem about the little girl, the one that went, "When she was good, she was very, very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid." Honestly, I hate using good or bad to describe her, because bad or good behavior doesn't define her, so I like to say about Tessa, "When she has good behavior, it is very, very good, but when she has bad behavior, it was horrid."

My aunt who babysits her, her teachers and even Brian when he's with her by himself often say how she is no trouble whatsoever, so it's really just me. And, I know I brought a lot of it on myself by not being strict.

My family knows how she is with me, so they've all been warning me about how bad it's going to be when Ella gets here. They've told me she's going to be so jealous of the new baby, that Brian is going to have take care of Ella while I deal with Tessa, that she's going to regress so much, etc. They also said it would much, much harder on her because of how old she is. Others, who don't know Tessa as well as we do, have said she'll be fine and a little mother, but I just don't know.

I know she's going to be jealous. I was hoping it wouldn't be so bad, but I had a nightmare last night and then something happened this afternoon that made me think I might be wrong.

Last night, I dreamed Ella was here, and Tessa was so mad at me. She yelled and cried and said she hated me and the baby and wished Ella would go away and never come back. It was awful. I was crying, she was crying and the baby was crying. I woke up in tears.

Then, today, when I went to pick her up after work, my nephew was there. He's about 18 months old and wanted to sit on my lap because Tessa was sitting there, too. She didn't want him there and starting crying when I told her she needed to let him. I've been talking to her about how it's going to be when the baby gets here, so I think it might have come from that.

I just don't know what to do. I want to make this transition as easy on her as I possibly can, and honestly, I want to make it easy on all of us. I don't want her to hate me, and I don't want her to hate her sister. Sometimes, I just feel like "What have I done?" when it comes to our family changing. Don't get me wrong. I want Ella more than anything; I just don't want adding to our family to make Tessa hate me.

Maybe it will sound stupid to some people, and maybe some will say I'm worrying for nothing, but I can't help it. It's even taking a lot of my focus away from the grief I know is coming over Jenna's death. I don't want to be afraid of what's to come with Tessa. I want her to be overjoyed about a new sibling. I told her last night that Ella will be her best friend someday. Does anyone have any experience about adding a new baby to the family with a much older sibling (six and a half years old) who is high-spirited and strong-willed?

Judgmental much?

I haven't posted about this in a long time, but I feel like I need to tonight. I was reading some posts on a Web site I visit, and someone made the comment that she didn't understand why those who chose to terminate a pregnancy due to poor prenatal diagnosis a loss since they chose to end their baby's life.

I didn't post in the thread, didn't call her out, although I could have. Someone else did, and she said she had gone through it and decided to carry to term. Why does she have to be so judgmental? Why do others who have made the decision to carry to term feel the need to be judgmental to those who have made the opposite decision?

In the last year (this weekend is the year anniversary of our disastrous trip to Atlanta), I've only seen one or two people who made the decision to carry to term who weren't judgmental of those who decided to terminate. I read one blog who said it was the easy road to take, another who said those who terminated just wanted perfect babies and then this post tonight which basically said they don't have the right to grieve for their babies.

Someone please answer this question for me and tell me why they are so judgmental. Those of us who terminated and those of us carried to term all have been in the same position; we just took different roads. One is not more difficult than the other; just different.

I have never told a parent who made the decision to carry to term that they needed to re-think their decision. I've never told them God doesn't grant miracles. I've never said they didn't care enough about their babies to keep them out of pain, and I've sure never said that their sick baby is a punishment for something they've done wrong.

But, when I was making the decision to travel to Atlanta last year, I did hear I needed to re-think what I was doing. I was told God grants miracles, and I should wait for my miracle. When it didn't happen, I was told I didn't pray hard enough or want it bad enough. I have also been told I was selfish and only wanted a perfect baby, not that I wanted to keep her out of pain. I was also told the reason she didn't live and we didn't get our miracle was punishment for traveling to Atlanta and attempting to terminate the pregnancy. All of these comments came from women who made the decision to carry to term.

I've said it before; I've been both places. I've come about as close as you can to terminating without actually having gone through it, and I attempted to carry to term, even though we didn't get that far. I just can't understand judging either side of it, not at all.

Why can't we support each other through our losses? Why do people, especially those who made the decision to carry to term, feel the need to judge and criticize? Why can't we be there for each other despite our different ways of handling the situation?

I'm hoping when I finish my degrees, I will be able to support women who make either decision. I don't judge. I cheer for those babies who live and thrive in spite of a poor prenatal diagnosis. I grieve and offer support to those who carry to term only to have their babies be stillborn or die in their arms, and I am there for those who are making or have made one of their hardest decisions ever.

Why can't others do the same?

A little scare today

This morning, when I woke up and went to the bathroom, I wiped, and there was blood on the toilet paper. I checked to see where it was coming from, and it didn't seem to be vaginal. It seemed more like it was coming from my urethrea.

I figured I might have a urinary tract infection, even though I didn't have any other symptoms, but I was still scared. Any time you see blood during a pregnancy, it's scary, so I called the doctor. They had me come in at 11 a.m.

By that time, the bleeding had stopped. She did a urine culture and a swab to see if it could be a yeast infection. Both came back clear. She's sending the urine specimen off to see if anything shows up that way.

She said it was probably just a fluke if the long test on the urine doesn't come back showing an infection. It definitely wasn't vaginal blood, and my cervix is closed. Ella's heartrate was very strong, and she even kicked the doppler. Tessa did that once, too.

They told me to come home and take it easy today and call if we have any problems. I asked about going on our trip to my inlaws this weekend, hoping to get out of it, but she said it would be all right if nothing else happened. I don't want anything else to happen, so we will be going on our trip. Brian was all for canceling it, though, and he might still decide to do so. I'm leaving it up to him.

Well, I'm doing it

After much deliberation, I have decided I will start school at MTSU this fall if we can get my student loans in order. Thanks to a blog reader, I found out about the school's online psychology program, so I can actually do it even though I'm pregnant.

I was looking over the course list, and I believe I have a lot of the basics already out of the way. The online schools said I should only have to go a semester or two, but I've had trouble believing that. I've been thinking it might be like three or four, but if I can take a heavy courseload, I might be able to finish sooner. I'll find out more when I talk to an advisor.

This is just one step closer to reaching my goal of helping out other women who have experienced a poor prenatal diagnosis or a pregnancy loss. I also hope to help out those who are experience postpartum depression, especially after the recent disturbing news that was released yesterday about a mother in Texas.

I am super excited and really hope everything goes through with my student loans. Wish me luck with that.

We have a name

I think when you are pregnant choosing the name is the most important part of it. Your child is going to be saddled with it for the rest of their life, unless they decide to take the steps to change it, and believe me, over the years, I've seen some names I would change if my mom had given them to me.

A few weeks ago, I even wrote a column about bad baby names, and the rules I would make if I were Queen Baby Namer of the World. Here's a link in case anyone is interested.

http://www.t-g.com/story/1545282.html

We've been discussing names since we got the second line on the pregnancy test. In fact, we were even discussing names before we ever got pregnant. To me, being able to give another person their name is a huge honor.

So, we had a list of names we were considering for girls this time. The ones we both liked were Ella, Emily, Elizabeth, Sophia, Colleen and Caroline. I loved the name Norah, but he didn't. He loved the name Julianna, but I didn't. So, both of those were vetoed right away.

We made a list of our favorites, and in my head, I tried them all out. My favorite by far is Ella. I just can't see me calling her by any other name. Brian loves it, too. So, for right now (and I'm pretty sure forever), her name is Ella. Now, we just have to decide on a middle name.

Radiologist report

I'm actually beginning to believe I'm going to bring this baby girl home from the hospital when she's born. I went to my regular appointment yesterday, and they had the report from the radiologist.

Everything looked wonderful. They got good pictures of the heart, kidneys, brain, legs, abdomen and all the other important body parts. The only thing they weren't able to see were the hands, but the radiologist isn't too worried about it. Neither I am. She waved at us at one point and then put her hands over her face, so I know they are there. And, they sure didn't look clenched to me.

She weighs 13 ounces and is about 10 inches long. I'm now wondering how much bigger than Tessa she will be. Tessa weighed five pounds, seven ounce and was 17 inches long at full-term. Will Ella/Emily/Elizabeth/Sophia/Caroline/Colleen (LOL) be that small or a lot bigger? I need to know if I should buy preemie clothes because when Tessa was born, nothing fit her and we had to go and buy some for her.

I had gained a total of two more pounds, making me up to nine. Dr. McGowen said she doesn't care if I don't gain another pound, just as long as I don't start losing. This will be wonderful, because she said if that happens, I will weigh less after the baby is born than I did before I even got pregnant. I hope so, because I gained back some of the weight I lost last year after Jenna died while I was unemployed.

Today, Tessa and I had to go to Wal-Mart to pick up the ingredients to make pies for the PTO lunch for teachers first inservice day at school tomorrow. We went over to the baby items and just oohed and ahhed over everything. Tessa picked out a onesie that said, "Drama Queen," and I chose a really cute green sleeper with a floral print and a elephant patch. It was so adorable.

I just hope I'm not jinxing myself or getting my hopes about all of it, but I feel so much better about things than I did before.

It's a....

We had to be at our appointment at 10 a.m. I wanted to be early, but it never works that way for us. I think Brian and Tessa would dawdle even if they were going to do their most favorite thing in the world.

We got there right at 10 a.m., and we only had to wait a few minutes before we went back. Tessa was very antsy. She was fascinated by the screen at first, but soon it was boring her. She kept wanting to know when we were going to find out if the baby was a boy or a girl, but of course, the tech looked at everything first.

The cerebellum in the brain is measuring at 20 weeks and 6 days, which is good since I'm 21 weeks today. Also, I'm pretty sure we never saw the cerebellum with Jenna, as her brain never really developed. The abdomen measured at 22 weeks, so a little ahead.

I've never had a baby that measured ahead before. Tessa never did, and Jenna always measured at least four or five days behind and even more than that in the beginning. I really do think this baby is going to be bigger than Tessa was. Of course that's not hard to do as Tessa was five pounds, seven ounces and only 17 inches long.

The nasal bone is present, which is also another good sign. The baby waved at us, which indicates the fingers are not clenched. Of course, the tech couldn't tell us all of this, but I could see it. She measured the feet and looked at the heart, which was beating at 136 beats a minute. We also got a clear shot of all four chambers of the heart.

Then it was time to get the money shot. Of course, little baby Belinc was sleeping at this point with its knees together. The tech tried everything to get it to open up, but nothing doing. Finally, she shook my belly, and the baby re-arranged herself. By this point, Tessa was leaning against the table saying, "Please be a girl, please be a girl, please be a girl," over and over again. It was too funny.

And, she got her wish. It's a baby girl. The ultrasound tech said everything looks good to her, but the radiologist still has to read the report. I go back to the doctor tomorrow, so will find out for sure then. Thanks so much for the good thoughts and please keep them up until we get the report from the radiologist.

Countdown to the ultrasound

Well, it's 11:30 p.m. the night before my big ultrasound. We'll find out if we're having a boy (probably named Spencer) or a girl (who will never be named, lol), but most importantly, we'll find out if this baby is healthy.

To say that I am nervous is a understatement. I don't know how I'm going to sleep tonight. I was thinking of taking some Benadryl (totally safe during pregnancy) tonight to help me sleep, but I decided against it. What if it made the baby lethargic on the ultrasound, and we couldn't see anything?

I have decided to let Tessa go with us tomorrow. She wants to go so bad, and we promised to let her go with Jenna but we never got to have the big ultrasound at 20 weeks. It wasn't needed; we already knew by then she didn't have a chance.

I have felt the baby move a lot today. Maybe he or she is trying to tell me everything will be Ok. I just wish it was this time tomorrow night, so I would know that all is fine.

The ultrasound is at 10 a.m. I think we will probably go eat somewhere afterward. I have thought about picking up the baby's coming home outfit, but my aunt (and before granny died, she helped, too) has gifted that to the new baby for all the great-grandchildren. She has good taste, too, so I don't mind waiting for her to do that. I might just have to buy him or her something, though.

I just have to keep telling myself that I'm now farther along with this baby than I ever got to be with Jenna, that we never got to have the anatomy scan with her and none of my test results ever came back good with her. In fact, even with my first ultrasound, she was measuring behind, which we just chalked up to me being off about my dates. So far, everything looks good with this baby, and it has even measured ahead or right on track the entire time. I also know this baby has some special angels looking over, my granny, Jenna and all the babies lost to all the special women I've met over the past year.

I will update this blog as soon as I can tomorrow. Please keep us in your thoughts.

20 weeks, 5 days

I am 20 weeks, five days, exactly what I was when Jenna was born. She was alive on August 5, 19 weeks and five days, so she died sometime between then and Monday, which was 20 weeks and four days.

After she was born, they said she had probably been dead a couple of days. I remembering thinking I had felt her on Sunday, right before we took Tessa and my nephew Luke to Chuck E. Cheese, but I'm not sure. She was so small, and her movements were just like tiny flutters, so it might not have been that. I like to think that it was, so I would say she probably passed away at 20 weeks and three days.

I am not sure how I feel to be honest. I know this little one is still with us because I can feel him/her moving around, which makes me feel a lot more excited about going into the ultrasound on Monday, but I am also a little sad that tomorrow I will be farther along with this baby than I ever got to be with Jenna. I don't know if sad is exactly the right word for it or not. I'm glad this baby is alive and will have been alive for longer than Jenna ever was. I'm just sad Jenna didn't get to live longer.

Time helps a lot but...

I've been meaning to post about this, but I keep getting other worries on my mind and forget about it. The Sunday after the Fourth, my great-aunt's family held a birthday party for her. She turned 88 this year and is the only great aunt (or uncle even) that we have left.

Her daughter-in-law created a scrapbook for her, which included all eight of her children and her many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. There was even a page in there for my cousin's baby who died at just a few days old and another for another cousin's baby who died in utero.

They also made a DVD full of pictures and included all the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren in it. They featured Christian, the baby who died at just a few days old from CHARGE Syndrome. My mom said she thought they shouldn't have had him on there. This really bothered me, because even though he wasn't here long, he was still her grandchild. Momma said it just brought everyone down.

The baby that died in utero was actually diagnosed with something prenatally. It's been several years ago, even before Tessa was born, and since I was never particularly close to that cousin, I didn't find out what it was. I do know that they were quite far along when they decided to end the pregnancy and decided to terminate (which would be a huge deal for them on that side of the family as most of them are vehemently pro-life in all situations, even for medical terminations), but they had to fly to Kansas to have it done. When they got there, the baby had already died, and they came home to deliver her.

At the party, I asked my mom if she knew what was wrong with the baby. She said she didn't know and suggested I ask my cousin's wife about it if I was curious. I told her that I didn't want to bring back bad memories for her, and my mom said, "Oh, it's been a long time, it probably doesn't bother her anymore."

I said, "That's not something you ever completely get over, Momma. I'm sure it still bothers her."

And, Momma said, "Oh, she's had two kids since then. She probably doesn't even have time to think about it."

Was that insensitive or is it just me? It doesn't matter how many children you, when you lose one, you've lost it forever, and that child is forever in your heart. If the baby had died of SIDS or lived for a few days, would she still say the same thing? I was just floored and a little hurt by what she said, so I didn't say anything else. I wanted to tell her that I bet she thinks about that baby every day.

It makes me wonder if two or three years down the road, when this new baby is here and growing, and Tessa is thriving, will everyone expect me to be over it? Will she expect it not to hurt or me not to think about it? I still think about Jenna every day almost a year later. How can I not?

Dates

Monday is our big ultrasound. If you go by my dates, I'll be 21 weeks. If you go by doctor's dates (which I do think are off), I'll be 20 weeks, three days.

The ultrasound where we found out Jenna had died was on a Monday. I was 20 weeks, four days. I hate, hate, hate this. I wish it was over, and I already knew everything was fine.

But, I don't, so I have to worry. I hate that I'm superstitious about things, but I am. I wish I had never thought to compare the dates. I wish I had never told Tessa she could go with us. I wish I had never lost a baby to Trisomy 18, so I could still be naive about all of this.

I really, really hate this so much. I'm just glad I can feel the baby move now and have the doppler so I'll know the baby still has a heartbeat right before leave for the appointment.

20 weeks today and getting nervous

I am 20 weeks pregnant today and really feeling it. My hips are achy, which never happened with Jenna, but did happen with Tessa, only much, much later. I've also started waddling lately, which is oh so attractive.

I get an e-mail every week from Baby Center, telling a little about the pregnancy at this point. Today's said the baby is probably measuring about 10 inches and weighs about 10.5 ounces. He or she is already bigger than Jenna ever got to be.

I am getting so nervous, about a lot of things. Our ultrasound is in another week, and I'm trying not to think about all the things that could be wrong. Instead, I'm trying to focus on the fact that the odds are in our favor that everything is just fine. Just six more days, and I'll be more pregnant than I got to be with Jenna.

I am also getting nervous about labor and delivery. I know I have a long time to go for that one, but I had a horrible experience when Tessa was born and don't want to go through that again. Even though Jenna's delivery was very emotional for me, physically, it wasn't anywhere near as horrible as what I went through with Tessa, even though I did have to dilate all the way to 10 to deliver her. So, at least, I know not all deliveries are that horrible.

My biggest case of nerves come from the thought of raising another child. I keep thinking, "What in the world is this going to do to Tessa?" Her whole life is going to be turned upside down. For the last six years, she's been our main focus, and now, the attention is going to shift to this tiny new being. How is that going to affect her?

I know she's excited now, but she doesn't really know how her life is going to change with the new baby. I'm planning to get her involved with a lot of activities this fall, so maybe it will take her mind away from the fact that she's not the only one anymore.

Also, I don't want to play favorites at all, and I'm so afraid I'm going to love Tessa more than I love this baby. We have spent six years together, and for the first three, it was just she and I as Brian was on the road during the week. I love her more than anything, and I have a hard time seeing how I'm going to possibly love this baby as much as I do Tessa. She's my girl, you know?

Of course, I'm probably just being silly, and I know I will him or her just as much, but it worries me. I hope I'm not the only parent who feels that way.

Not as bad as I thought it would be

Today was no where near as bad as I thought it would be. I noticed I hadn't felt the baby move much today, so when I got home from work, I took out the doppler (thanks to my friend for letting me borrow it) to find the heartbeat.

The baby was moving so much, I had trouble finding it. In fact, at one point, it sounded like s/he was punching my belly over and over again. I'm not sure why I wasn't feeling it, but I guess it has to do with me being overweight. It sure sounded funny on the doppler though.

Also, Tessa shared some funny observations about breastfeeding with me last night, and I thought about that often today and even shared it with a few co-workers. I'll share it here, too.

We were talking about feeding the baby, and she asked me if I was going to use bottles. I told her I was planning to try to breastfeed and that I had tried with her, but it didn't work out. She asked, "What did you do? Stick your booby in a bottle and squeeze out the milk?"

Fighting back the laughter, I explained how it all worked. She was horrified and said, "I bet when you were trying to get me to do that, I was thinking 'You want me to suck on THAT?'," with much sarcasm on the that. Everyone I have told has thought it was hilarious.

Honestly, I've always believed laughter can help you through almost any situation. When we took our trip to Atlanta, my DH packed my Golden Girls DVDs, knowing I would need something to make me laugh. He also packed them when we went into the hospital for her to be born. We told our nurses that night that we laugh about things because it helps us, and laughing did help. It didn't change anything, didn't really take away the pain, but it did take our minds away from the pain for just a little while.

I guess that's why I shared Tessa's comments with so many people, so I could share in their laughter and take my mind off it. I also interviewed the new principal at Tessa's school and found him to be wonderful, so I'm really excited about her first grade year. I've got to write his story tomorrow for the newspaper.

Keeping busy and laughing helped take my mind off it all. I'm just going to try to keep busy for the next month or so, until the anniversaries are all over.

Someone commented that they hope my heart is healing, and it is, slowly but surely. I don't cry every day anymore. It doesn't hurt as bad looking at baby clothes anymore, not like it did when I first lost Jenna. But, even when my heart is healed, it will always carry a scar and a piece of it is always going to be gone. I don't know if I will ever be able to change that.

One year ago tomorrow

One year ago tomorrow, our nightmare began. I got the call from Dr. McGowen herself that our test results came back in one in 10 for Trisomy 18.

I can still remember it like it was just yesterday. I was sitting at my desk at work, and she asked me if I could talk. I told her I was at work, and she wanted to know if I wanted to call her back later. I didn't. My co-workers (who I still miss to this day) were like family members to me. She then told me about the risk factors. I can remember saying, "That is the one they consider incompatible with life, right?"

Of course she said yes, and then she reminded me that the AFP test were notorious for false positives. She wanted me to go to the maternal fetal medical specialists upstairs and was going to try to get me in the next day.

I had to scramble to get someone to cover for me, but Justin, who will forever be my friend for the way he handled everything from then on, volunteered to help out. I'll never forget after we got confirmation of the diagnosis how he approached me and said, "I don't know what to say. I even went to the Trisomy 18 Web site to see what I could do, and I still don't know." He was 25 at the time. Most 25-year-old guys aren't really known for their sensitivity, but he was great.

I think I knew the results were going to be positive as soon as she said told me what the AFP risk factors were. I tried to convince myself and others nothing was wrong, but I knew it in my heart, especially after we had the ultrasound a day later.

So, it's been a year since our nightmare began. I am nowhere near the same person I was last year. I wish Jenna was here with me. I wish I had never had to experience Trisomy 18. I wish July and August were still good months for me, but I don't think they ever will be again. I wish I wasn't so paranoid about this pregnancy.

Even though I have this new baby growing inside me, I still miss Jenna. I know I always will.

First big purchase

I've been diapers for this baby since our 12 week ultrasound and bloodwork came back normal. I've got four packs of newborn diapers and am going to start buying size ones next. I also bought a three pack of BPA glass-free bottles, just in case breastfeeding doesn't work out. We also bought a little stuffed monkey and a t-shirt for the baby while we were on vacation.

Brian told me the other day he saw a circular from a store where we want to buy our travel system. We wanted a Winnie the Pooh one, and even though it wasn't the exact same brand as the one we had looked at it, it was made by Disney and featured Winnie the Pooh. I decided to go look at it. I went today, and while I was there, I purchased a black and sage diaper bag for the baby.

It's just as nice as the original brand we wanted and is nice and sturdy. It's gotten good reviews. The price is right, too.

I wasn't able to buy it today because Brian had the debit card, but I am going tomorrow to get it. I've been fine buying diapers, but buying a major purchase is really bothering me.

I know this is silly, but I'm almost afraid if I buy it, I'm going to "jinx" the pregnancy. We bought a pack and play when we were pregnant with Jenna, but that was the only thing we bought. I bought it and then we found out she was sick.

Now, I know it's silly. Buying that pack and play early didn't make Jenna sick. She already even before she was conceived, because Trisomy 18 is caused by either a defective egg or sperm, but it's still scary.

I'm going to do my best and push that fear aside. I'll buy the travel system for the new baby. I can't wait until s/he is born to buy anything. I have to prepare ahead. It's just hard when you are so nervous and paranoid.