Thumbs up!

So, I made a painful mistake with a piece of kitchen equipment. It happens.

The care sheet from the ED calls it an avulsive wound and too big to stitch, and says it may take anywhere from 10 days to two months to heal fully.

Because I have a compulsion and love of gross wound photos, I’m podting the progression of healing here. At this point I’m thinking things look worse as they are healing, as the white blood cells start filling everything back in it all looks very puffy and suspicious.

There is some redness and pain, a little extra heat, but the smell is of betadine, not infection, and unless it’s hit on something or squeezed or stretched (you never realize how much the side of the thumb of your dominant hand is involved in everyday actions until you hurt it) it itches more than throbs pr stings now.

day after:

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a view from the top to show what’s missing.

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Day two

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Day three

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Day four (today)

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Where to start

Begin where we left off? No, it would take too long, maybe eventually I’ll catch up on posting about the important stuff. In the meantime, wow, time has flown by like a bird with an 80 knot tailwind.

The boy is no longer a bump but a menace to lawns everywhere.

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My hairy baby

Still the number one most belovéd baby girl. This is one of my favorite sights in the morning, and we are really looking forward to seeing what she thinks of her baby brother once he’s on the outside. She’s been very careful of the belly, so we know she’s conscious that the swelling is special in some way.

Whoa, getting bigger.

5-8 more weeks to go, and still enjoying every little movement.

Whoops!

I didn’t mean to make this an all-baby blog, but I guess that’s what it’s become through neglect. Hopefully I’ll be a better parent than blogger.

And I don’t have anything interesting to add at the moment. Our baby is doing great, has a name all settled and is still safely inside the womb and super-easy to take care of for hopefully a couple more months. No crying, no pooping or peeing, no special feedings…all those things are done inside me while I’m doing my own eating and sleeping routine. This pregnancy stuff is easy-peasy.

::thunder rolls as the Fates look around::

I might look into making my blog private and accessed by password–probably easy for anyone to hack if they were so inclined, but enough to keep off the looki-loos? I have no idea, but I do know that if I actually start up the blogging thing again there will be a lot of bits I’d only like to share with certain people and that will be made easier by blogging, but that I won’t want the whole world to know about.

The knitting/spinning/sewing would probably stay public. I really don’t know, I probably flatter myself that anyone would care, especially as I’ve been careful to not attach this blog to anything–except in a couple of comments on a couple of blogs, which is enough to go on, really. Sigh, I just sound paranoid, but then again, Facebook and the controversies that kick up have really made us think more about the data we give away so freely and how easily that can be linked up in ways we never intended and certainly don’t want.

Or maybe we’ll stick to annoying people with letters with pictures inside, or stick to actual print journals. While I love the ease and connectivity of blogging, I do actually wish I had the print versions of all my old blogging to hold in my hands. It’s more fun to read that way. Instead, we have hard drives full of photos, and shoeboxes full of older photos…

I’m really not sure what my point was.

Oops

I didn’t intend for this blog to be all fetus all the time, but I guess that’s how it’s turning out at the moment.

We had our NT scan on Tuesday.  And we were so relieved by the results!  Once you’ve seen a lifeless embryo (at 9 weeks, some sources said she was a fetus, others still said embryo) at your first hopeful ultrasound appointment, the image and fear can be hard to shake, even when you know what happened was just a random bad chance.  So this time around, when we saw our little guy hopping and bopping and apparently hiccuping up a storm, we cried a bit in happy relief.  He looks awesome.  And yes, the fetus is apparently a “he.”  You usually can’t tell so early, but it looked pretty darn distinctive in the scan!

Although, based on the info here, it could still be a grand mystery, so we shall see at 18 weeks whatever we shall see.

I have a ton of stills I grabbed from the video, but I won’t post them all here.  Suffice to say, our felicitous fetus has all the requisite parts in good proper order.  This pic might be my favorite, he’s rolling over to moon us.

an example

Here’s an example of the whickity-whacketiness of hormones during pregnancy: a week or so ago when I read this notice on the dairy shelf of the grocery store, I got all teary-eyed and had to go into the detergents aisle to get a grip.

Seriously.

Thankfully, I have otherwise been pretty even-tempered. I really don’t like crying; I find it embarrassing. I am not a pretty crier, I get bright red and hot and get a headache, blech. But in this case, I thought it was funny: to cry over such a thing as a notice on a dairy case.

I was reminded of this because last night I cried while watching the end of Warehouse 13. If ever there was a show not living up to its promise of a premise, this is one. The only character that isn’t irritating is Pete but the whole thing is badly written and poorly executed. Yet like Greg the Bunny we keep watching just in case it does step up to the plate and deliver a hit and so far it’s been just enough entertainment to stay on the DVR list.

So, it was stupid, mawkishly maudlin, predictable schlock and I cried and HB caught me at it and laughed his ass off at me (with me, I guess, as I laughed while crying at the absurdity of it). He apologized, probably in case the switch flipped over from “tears” to “rage” but thankfully that didn’t happen and hasn’t so far (touch wood, heheh).

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