Pregnancy can be scary. And we had our first scare pretty early on in our pregnancy, shortly before our first doctor's appointment. I was in DC on business and we still didn't really know much about What To Expect When [we're] Expecting. There's no need to get too graphic about things, but January became concerned and we both freaked out a bit. I rushed back home, we got in to the doctor a little earlier, and we got the official word that everything was A-OK.

This past weekend gave us our second scare of the pregnancy. January had already been a little concerned about a couple things that didn't seem quite right. She had a couple of her good friends, Erica and Liz, in from out of town and they had spent Saturday doing a good bit of walking around, doing all the things people should do when they visit Columbus -- shopping in the Short North, ice cream at Jeni's, dinner at the Burgundy Room -- so January did have a somewhat more physically active day than normal. Sunday morning, January woke me up at 7am concerned that something was really wrong. We rushed to the emergency room, where we proceeded to have our morning completely wasted.

Things were off to a good start when we were admitted directly into a screening room; The emergency room was mostly empty at this time of day, so we were optimistic that we would get some pretty quick attention and, hopefully, be on our way. After getting her blood pressure taken -- it was a little low -- we were taken to an examination room to be seen by a nurse. We explained the situation and January was given an IV and told she would have an ultrasound to make sure everything was OK. Two hours later, a technician finally wheeled January off to get looked at. This is the part where I was left behind, but I'm told the ultrasound experience was pretty disappointing. Not that I would expect any vaginal examination to be, you know, fun or anything, but it sounds like they were pretty clinical and rough in their examination. January was wheeled back to the exam room after fully twenty minutes of prodding and not so much as a word.

Another hour later, January and I are still sitting in this room waiting for someone to tell us what the hell is going on. It's at this point where your mind begins to work through the logic: A long wait means bad news, right? But maybe nothing's wrong and they're just pissed that we wasted their time, so they're making us wait now. Could they have forgotten about us?

Then, at just the moment we're nearly in tears with anticipation, Doctor Asshole shows up. My apologies for the language, but I think you'll agree that it is a well deserved nickname. Doctor Asshole, Ph.D. Walks in, perches delicately on the counter with his very best look of condescension, and passes along this gem: "Well, I have news. You're O positive." <long pause> "Universal donor.¹"

*blink*blink*

Because that's exactly what we were waiting to find out. January's blood type. We could finally breathe a sigh of relief knowing that January can donate blood to anyone who needs it. Another minute later, Doctor Asshole tells us that they were able to see "a flicker" on the ultrasound, but nothing definitive, and that we should get in to see our regular doctor this week to make sure everything was OK. Everything he said was punctuated with the idea that he had something else to say, but was watching his words very closely. We had to specifically ask him multiple times if the baby was all right, and the best he was able to tell us was that "if [we] are working on a miscarriage" there's really nothing they can do this early on, but that if "the floodgates do open" we should come back. Seriously. What an asshole.

So we went back home where Liz and Erica were waiting for us. I can't even tell you how great it was to have them in town for this particular weekend; While I focused on not freaking out and keeping January comfortable, they helped by keeping her mind off of things. They spent the afternoon watching movies, talking, and cooking -- that Saturday would have been a lot longer and more unbearable without them.

Fortunately, our awesome non-asshole doctor was able to get us in the next afternoon. As she walks into the examination room with our file in hand, before even examining January, she says "I see from your ER ultrasound that everything was fine..."

Wait, what? She could tell that from just glancing at our ER report? Which means Doctor Asshole could have told us that same thing and not made us worry for the past 30 hours? Well that's just super. But at least the good news is that The Captain is doing just fine, and we have another photo to add to the collection.

The lesson to learn here, the lesson we apparently didn't listen to when my sister went through the same thing during her pregnancy, is that if you think something might be wrong but it's not strictly speaking an emergency, go to the triage center instead of the emergency room. Especially Riverside Methodist's emergency room.

¹Yes, I'm aware that O positive is not the universal donor. Doctor Asshole, however, is apparently not.

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We've got a quick update on The Captain's fourteen week visit to the doctor. This was our first visit without getting an ultrasound, and we were a little sad that we weren't going to get to see the guy again. As luck would have it, though, the technician and then the midwife both had some trouble getting a lock on the baby's heartrate using the audio-based doplar device that they use, so we got to use the one that involves guey fluid on the belly and an actual image of the baby. I can't stress enough how nice everyone has been at our doctor's office. We have yet to see the same technician, doctor, or midwife multiple times, but I think that's intentional so that you can get used to the different people that may be there the day Captain Bojangles is born. This week's midwife, took her time trying to find the baby's heartbeat and rather than leaving us to freak out about why we couldn't find it, very calmly explained that this was pretty normal for as early as we are. At 14 weeks, the baby is still relatively small and hard to find with that device and she assured us that everything was fine. After we found the Captain on the other machine, she sat with us and answered a few questions we had about January's upcoming flight to Colorado and dealing with the higher altitutde, and ways she can try to cope with the heartburn that seems to be a daily occurance now.

But one again, everything is five-by-five with the tiniest member of Team Soell. We're not sure if we're going to try to get a peek at "the goods" at our 18 week visit next month or hold off for 22 to make sure we can find out boy-versus-girl, but we're excited to know!

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Sometimes being a homeowner can be more trouble than it's worth, but the big upside is that it's your house. If there's something you want to change about it, you can do it. From the little things like painting to the bigger things like new toilets, you're in complete control of what gets done with your place. I've been kicking an idea around for a while now and I think I'm on the verge of going through with it. I'm not an extremely handy guy, and although I've handled a few things around the house like installing a garbage disposal, dish washer, and a ceiling fan, I'm always a bit wary about doing new projects like this.

Really, it's not a major project at all. We have a really nice front porch on our house that we love to spend time on in the summer months -- at least when it's not sweltering out. This past week has finally been tolerable enough, at least in the mornings, to spend a little time outside. What I would really like to be able to do it bring Gus outside with us, but because the porch is not closed off, there's nothing keeping him from rushing any random squirrels or dogs that catch his eye. He's a good dog, but somewhat impulsive, so when do bring him out with us he has to be leashed at all times, which is kind of annoying.

So what I'd really like to do is build a gate that can fill in the entry area in order to keep Gus on the porch with us. I've never done anything like this before, though, so I want to be sure that whatever I end up installing doesn't have to be permanent. This is, after all, the front of our house and we don't plan to live here forever. Another tricky thing to consider is that we need to be able to pull the gate inward when we're not outside so that guests -- and more importantly, the mailman -- can come right up to the door. The width of this area is a bit over 48", but the area to the right, where the gate would need to be kept when open, is only 25", so I'm envisioning a sort of gate with a hinge in the center, that can be doubled up on itself and tucked away when we don't need it.

I'm sure that to anyone who has done any level of contruction before, a project like this sounds simple, but I'm a little nervous about it. I know it should only require some two-by-fours, some wood screws, a circular saw, and some sort of matching siding on the outside, but I'm a little daunted by the task. I thought I'd write up an article on it, though, as I'm sure I could use any advice you may have, and maybe there are other people who haven't done "simple projects" like this that would be interested in my experience. I'm going to head over to the hardware store tonight to take a first look at what I may need; Keep an eye here for future updates and please, let me know if you have any words of wisdom. Or maybe just a circular saw I can borrow.

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"The saddest thing about life is that you don't remember half of it." This is the introductory sentence of Donald Miller's book "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years." On our drive out to California this past winter, January and I took turns reading this book to each other and, although this was the very first sentence of the book, it was the one that stayed with me. Miller went on to talk about a friend of his who wrote down every memory from his life that popped into his head, no matter how mundane. For the past half a year I've thought about doing the same, even going so far as to creating a special Evernote notebook to keep these details in.

Rather than keep these memories locked up in a text file that will probably never be read by anyone else, I'm going to make an effort to try to remember a single random memory every day and post it here under the memory files category. I make no guarantees that they will be entertaining, funny, or educational. They're just memories.

This past weekend I noticed that our bananas were starting to turn, so I decided to make some banana bread out of them. This reminded me of a time, I must have been ten or eleven, when I was at home with my mom and my sister. I remember my sister coming downstairs asking for ice cream or some other treat. My mom asked her if she finished her banana and she said that she had, so she was given permission. Later that afternoon, I remember finding that banana in the trash can below the sink and getting Lesley in trouble for it. 

Sorry, Lesley!

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