The Harkers

Just a quick update as to what’s going on ’round these parts.

1. I’m 16 1/2 weeks along now and successfully got past the barfy stage without ever throwing up! I definitely went through a queasy period and couldn’t eat chicken for weeks, but I’m feeling great now. Energy back, house clean(ish) again.

2. My second appointment with my midwife is tomorrow, so I imagine we’ll schedule my ultrasound then. Jim and I think it’s a girl, Elijah thinks it’s a boy. Most of the time. (If you want to make a guess, we’ve got a baby poll going here.) Can I just vent about the insurance business for a second? Apparently my health insurance won’t pay for a dime of my maternity costs since I’m not going the O.B./hospital route. Going to a midwife and delivering at a birthing center is a fraction of the cost, but they won’t cover it. I did the math and it will be roughly the same out of pocket cost as we paid with Elijah. It’s just incredibly irritating how much we pay for health insurance every month and get so little in return.

3. I just got released from my visiting teaching calling and called as Relief Society secretary. I love the ladies I’ll be working with and was visiting teaching coordinator for over two years (plus a supervisor before that), so I’m looking forward to the change.

Other than that, things have been pretty quiet around here. I haven’t been taking any photos this summer as I’ve been feeling monumentally lazy, but I’m hoping to make better use of the rest of our summer.

Random things I tried to help me get pregnant (in no particular order):

1. Eating an entire pineapple. Yeah, I read online that cutting a pineapple in five pieces and eating them (one a day) after ovulation increases your chances of implantation. All it did was make me really sick of pineapple.

2. Taking a cocktail of herbal remedies said to help in conception. Documented here. Also tried a different herbal concoction a bunch of girls in the neighborhood swore by a couple of years ago. It tasted so gross I could only take it for a couple of months, no results.

3. Taking Robitussin the week before ovulation. I’m not going to explain why this is said to help. It’s a little TMI.

4. Quit drinking caffeine altogether. And made Jim quit for the first half of every month.

5. Made Jim take a multivitamin.

6. Took prenatal vitamins. A few months ago I got tired of doing everything right and quit taking prenatals and started drinking caffeine again. A friend convinced me that I shouldn’t stop with the prenatal vitamins even if I was tired of it all. I listened, and I’m glad I did. (Thanks Amber B!)

7. Spent a lot of money on tests and procedures that found absolutely nothing wrong with me or Jim. For a girl who likes to know the answer to the question WHY, this was extremely frustrating.

8. Kept track of my basal temperature (off and on)  and charted my cycles faithfully. It gets really old keeping track of everything every month. It just keeps your mind on your monthly failures and gets really depressing.

9. And last but not least, one of my sister’s co-workers insisted that I try her “fertility afghan.” When I asked (a little grossed out) what exactly I was supposed to DO with it, I was told that just having it in my possession would ensure that I got pregnant. It had apparently been successful in helping several friends and acquaintances conceive. I left it lying around for several months and then gave it back to my sister the next time she was in town. She got pregnant.

Needless to say, I am very grateful to finally be pregnant and not worrying about it all the time . And also not having to rely on the internet for medical advice!

At long last, I have an unbelievably exciting piece of news to share.

I’M PREGNANT!!!

It has taken a massive force of will not to shout it from the rooftops, but Jim really wanted to wait until I was 12 weeks to spread the good news. And today is the big day! Like right now. Because it’s midnight and I couldn’t wait until morning.

On May 1st, I reluctantly approached Jim with the guarded announcement, “I’m a day late. Should I take a pregnancy test? If I do and it’s negative, I’m just going to be really depressed. Maybe I should wait another day.” Forty consecutive months of disappointment inevitably brings that sort of cautious response. Jim told me to just go for it, so I did. I peered at that little test for a minute before I called Jim upstairs. “Jim, I need a second opinion!” By the time he got upstairs, I sobbed out, “There’s a line!” and then proceeded to start bawling. Jim hadn’t ever given up hope, so he just smiled and hugged me and gently reminded me that he’d told me so. It was my last month on Clomid, and I’d said that I was giving up if it didn’t work. It must have been Jim’s, Elijah’s, and lots of other family and friends’ faith that did it, because I ran out months ago.

We went to the doctor when I was eight weeks along and verified that there’s just one little one in there and that my due date is January 6th. Elijah is really excited and has seriously impressed me with his ability to keep a secret! And boy, I’d heard that you start showing lots earlier with your second one, but this is ridiculous! I’m down to just one pair of jeans that actually fits. (Not that I’m complaining!) So far I’ve been feeling pretty good. I’ve definitely been tired and am almost always starving, but no real nausea yet, which is great! I didn’t get that sick with Elijah, so I’m grateful that this pregnancy is going smoothly as well.

A heartfelt thank you for all your thoughts and prayers, and please keep them coming our way!

…Snow. Apparently. Let’s forget current weather conditions at present and talk about what I’m putting in my flower garden once it warms up, since that’s about all I can think about this time of year. I have regular dreams about gorgeous gardens every spring. Seriously.

I’ve been trying to find something to put in front of my porch for the entire five years we’ve lived here, and I’ve finally found it. The Invincibelle hydrangea. Behold.

I have no illusions about the fact that those are probably fertilizer-enhanced mutants and won’t look anything like that in my garden, but that’s okay by me. Aren’t they gorgeous? I’m putting in three of them. Assuming I can find them, since local nurseries apparently don’t believe in answering phone calls or emails. I’ll mail order them if I have to.

I’ve also found it difficult to find something to put in next to my porch, in an area that’s almost full shade. I pretty much don’t plant anything that doesn’t flower, and most flowering shrubs don’t like shade. But this one does!

This is a Limelight hydrangea. And yes, it’s the year of the hydrangea around here. Wish me luck!

Today is our TENTH anniversary! Besides that making me feel just a tad ancient, that means that I’ve been married for nearly a third of my life. Crazy. In honor of ten happy years together, here is the story of how Jim and I got together.

It was the summer of 1999. Jim was friends with two of my roommates, Rebecca and Suzy. The first time he and I met is a bit hazy. I think it was the time he walked into my kitchen and I blurted out in a trademark Colleen kind of way, “You’re tall.” I’m sure his mental response was something like, “Ya think?” So I made an excellent first impression.

I had a boyfriend at the time, but as soon as he’d left for study abroad, I set my sights on Jim. I started hanging out at his apartment and flirting with him at the gas station across from his apartment. It took a pointed conversation with Suzy for Jim to finally get the hint that I wanted him to ask me out. It was your basic sixth grade “Do you like so-and-so” exchange. When he finally called to ask me out, he was nervous and adorable. When I answered the phone, he said, “This is Jim, Jim Harker.” By the time I hung up the phone I was giggling and hopping up and down.

He picked me up in a ‘72 Buick convertible (referenced here) and we went to Olive Garden. I was super nervous and didn’t say much during our first date, but Jim picked up the slack. He impressed me by tipping our waitress really well and by letting me drive his car. He was a perfect gentleman and didn’t actually kiss me until our third date. We were sitting on the roof of his apartment looking at the moon, which had an incredible red halo around it that night. It was the best kiss ever. Seriously.

Only a week later, we were driving home from a road trip to L.A. with two of my roommates. L.A. was having its usual end-of-summer wildfires, so the moon was spectacularly red from all the smoke. I was looking out the window at it when I had a really strong impression that he was the guy I was going to marry.  Jim is absolutely the best thing that has ever happened to me and I am so grateful that we were led to each other.

Happy anniversary, baby. I hope we have another five or six decades together in this life and forever after that. I love you!

Ah, resolutions. I have a vague recollection of having committed to blogging more this year, but such is life. I’m not much of a maker (or keeper) of resolutions. I love you all dearly, but facebook is where you’ll get the day-to-day scoop on our comings and goings. And even an occasional comment tussle.

Here are the photos of our new couch, along with Jim’s new(ish) TV, that I’m sure you’ve all been dying for.

And a close-up of the pillow covers I made to match:

Ta-da! My next project is painting and totally redecorating our bedroom. Of course, it would have to have been “decorated” to be “redecorated.” It remains the only unpainted room in the house, five years later. Even our laundry room is painted, with a precious clothesline border around the top. Which was here when we moved in. I swear.

{If you want to get up close and personal with the new sofa, I’m having a “New Moon” party this coming Friday at 7:00. Girls only!}