The Best Laid Plans

So, Paul and I had planned to spend the last weekend of February as our last one of just the two of us. I'd called my mom to see if she'd come on Monday to give us that time (no problem there), my maternity leave was officially starting at 2:30 on Friday, we'd made some simple plans for the weekend (dinner, last minute cleaning/organizing the house), and I'd planned to come over to this little place and catch the world up on our doings for the past 2 1/2 months.

And then this happened:
This picture was taken probably around 5:00 a.m. on Saturday 2/27. We'd gotten to the hospital about an hour earlier after I'd labored at home for about three hours. Paul thought I was going to tell him to come to bed when I walked into his nook at 1:00 a.m. He definitely wasn't expecting me to tell him that I was most definitely having contractions.

Oh, one of the plans for the weekend? Pack the bag for the hospital. So, there I am trying to breathe through contractions and tell Paul when they start and stop all the while trying to throw things into the suitcase. Because we were newbies to all of this, Paul and I decided to call the doula as well as the OB on call just to get their opinions on when we should come in. They didn't really have any although I'm sure they got a kick out of Paul explaining that I was lying over the suitcase, trying to breathe through a contraction. I also managed to run a bath because laboring in a warm tub sounded like a great idea. We managed to fill the tub and I got my clothes off but couldn't physically make myself get into the water. I did, however, manage to call my mom to let her know that she might want to start heading this way from Amarillo since apparently, I was having a baby. Paul then had the extra task of convincing me to get dressed again and walk down the stairs all the while I'm additionally trying to straighten up the bathroom because, oh yeah, Merry Maids is coming on Monday and if this kid is really coming today, I'm not going to be able to finish straightening up the house.

He eventually talked me downstairs (it's about 3:00 at this point) and I needed to get some items out of the dryer for the hospital. I'd bought a new robe to take with me as well as another outfit for the baby to possibly wear home. There I am, sitting in the floor of the living room, shaking uncontrollably (now realize that it was probably a transition point in labor), when Paul says that was it, we're heading to the hospital.

We manage to make it to the hospital with little ado, arriving around 4:00 to the maternity triage where we find out that, yep, I'm definitely in labor. In fact, I'm 6 centimeters dilated at this point. Woohoo! Our doula arrives, we head to the L&D room, and things are going great. Paul was a rockstar when it came to talking me through contractions and even in between, we were able to joke and talk. Paul and I were relaxed as we could be and really taking things in stride. Everyone kept commenting on how great we were doing, they couldn't believe we were so focused yet relaxed, etc., etc. At one point, I asked Paul for a piece of gum because my mouth was dry and he got a piece for himself as well. He managed to bite his cheek and commented that it really hurt. You know, not like what I was going through but it really hurt. After that, the nurse would ask him how his cheek was periodically as well. They also loved that he had our birthing prep book and was reading about what to expect during each phase of labor.

Around 7:30, Paul's parents and my mom arrived at the hospital, just as my water was breaking and I was entering the transition stage (Paul informed everyone that I might get irritable at this point). They set up the birthing equipment, the doctor came by to check on things, still doing great, I'm telling everyone that I'm really doing this just because I really want that #1 burrito from Golden Pride, we're taking bets on what time the baby would be born. And then at 8:30, I'm 9 cm dilated and labor stalls. We try different positions--standing, moving, sitting on the toilet, nipple stimulation--and nothing happens to make it progress. Around 11, the L&D nurse mentions Pitocin which nearly makes me cry. At 11:30, the doctor does an ultrasound and determines that the baby is OP--his body is in position but he has his head turned and won't/can't engage into the birth canal. She tries to move him and I stopped that quickly. We discuss options and agree that an epidural and trying to turn him is the way to go at this point.

After the epidural kicks in (and might I add, it wasn't just taking the edge off her trying to turn the baby), the doctor gets to business. Except that this little guy is as stubborn as both his parents. The OB could turn his head and he would turn it back. After several failed attempts, we again discuss options. Start Pitocin hoping that will move labor along so I can at least push. If I start pushing, it could take 4-5 hours and might still result in a c-section. Or go to a C-section. Crazy but the ONLY L&D dream I had was that my labor stalled and I had to get a c-section (oh, and that Paul and I politely declined the baby they tried to hand us because he had brown hair and brown eyes).

It wasn't much of a discussion but with our moms and the doula's input, Paul and I agreed that skipping to the c-section was the way to go. Not really what we'd planned or hoped for when things started that morning but I'd said all along that I really just wanted healthy baby and healthy mama as the end result. Because of another c-section that was being performed right then, we had about 1 1/2 hours to wait and keep trying to get the baby to move. He didn't and when the time came, I was whisked off and everything started happening very quickly.

I was glad we'd gotten the doula through the hospital at this point because she was able to come back with Paul and me into the delivery room. She also explained some of the procedures--that I would be alone during all the prep stuff and they would be able to enter once I was draped. I would have been really freaked out if I hadn't known that beforehand (as it was, I was only moderately freaked out).

And at 2:22 on February 27, we got this:
His name is Henry Mac and he has neither brown hair nor brown eyes. And we probably would have kept him even if he had.

The little bun had some problems with phlegm in his lungs and trouble breathing as a result so in the recovery room, he was kept under oxygen for a while. I finally got to meet him after an hour or so. That is one very happy mama there.
Paul in the recovery room with his "bunny suit" on. While he was in the operating room, he commented that he looked like a painter since he was wearing that and everyone else was in scrubs. The L&D nurse really didn't want us to leave since she was having such a good time with us. We're just happy when we've found an appreciative audience for our bad jokes.
Henry, who was still unnamed at this point and would remain so until Monday morning, with the oxygen. Everyone was commenting that they don't get many blonde babies through the ward. He is definitely a tow-head.
I keep telling everyone that I should get credit for more than that (the 7 lb. 15 oz from my first pregnancy dream, perhaps) since he pooped twice before they weighed him. Still a good-sized boy at 20 inches long.
With Daddy on Sunday morning. The first time Paul ever held an infant was when the nurse handed Henry to him to walk to the recovery room. Perhaps we should have practiced that beforehand.
And I finally got that #1 burrito, only 24 hours later. :)

Lots more to tell about this fun day but right now, I need to spend some more time staring at my son.

27 weeks and the cat

I was woken up at 5:00 this morning when the storm hit--lots of wind, lightning, thunder and rain. Because the weather was so late in getting to the area, the delay wasn't called until almost 6:00. I waited until 5:45 to get ready for work so I'm ready to go a good 2.5 hours before I need to leave for work today. Oh well. I just hope it doesn't become a snow day since the make-up days for those are added at the end of the school year, when I'll be on maternity leave.

And since I'm up and around, I thought I'd take advantage of the time to do a little blog updating, both here and at my (little known) book blog that has been commandeered for a school assignment this semester. The semester ends on Dec. 10 and my plan is to take the posts from there and move them to a blog for my school library. I've got a couple of book reviews and a journal entry that I need to catch up on by Thursday. I'm not taking a class next semester so after I'm finished with this, I'll be done with classwork until next June.

This is 27-almost-28 weeks. Last week, I had a coworker tell me that I was "huge" and a woman at church tell me that I was the cutest pregnant woman. I like the lady at church better for obvious reasons.
Not huge although I could definitely tell that I've grown this week. According to an email update I get, Baby is probably about 2.5 lbs. and 16 inches long, on his way to what we're expecting/hoping to be about 8 lbs. and 22 inches. So from here on out, we're both just getting fatter. :) I am curious as to see how big my belly button can actually get. I have a fairly deep "innie" and it's getting flatter and flatter every week. I think it looks rather alien-esque now.

I liked this next series of pictures because it is such a common, and amusing, battle of the wills occurrence at our house. Anytime Paul sits down, the cat feels the immediate need to sit in Paul's lap. Typically Paul will acquiesce but occasionally, he just wants to be left alone. And poor Jub will put on his most pathetic look and sit right beside Paul, hoping that eventually Paul will give in. It was a new thing for Jub to sit on the footrest portion of the recliner.
Jub's pleading his case with me--he'd probably like me to tell Paul to let the cat sit in his lap. Instead, I continued to take pictures.
That man has no heart. It's just a little lump of coal. Sad, I tell you. Sad.

Week 24

Because we have a courtyard entrance, our front door isn't visible from the street so when we first moved into our house, I made it a habit to use the front door when I was going to the mailbox as a way to check for packages and make sure every thing was find out that way. Yesterday, I didn't go out that door but used the garage instead. Imagine my surprise when I saw a note in the mailbox that we had a package at the front door. And not just any little box. A great big box all the way from Michigan full of maternity clothes courtesy of a friend. Hooray for (very generous) imaginary friends!
Clothes, clothes, and more clothes. What fun! I'll be able to share the bounty with some friends who are due later than me (in late April and late May) because they'll need two seasons worth of maternity clothes.

As for the rest of it, I've been going crazy finalizing vendors for the upcoming Holiday Ole' that Junior League is doing this weekend. I think we'll have about 32 or 33. Maybe 36, depending on everyone getting their application in. I hope they will soon. My eyelid has been twitching for the past two weeks because of this. But it will be worth it--I think it will be a great event.

Paul is just going crazy because of work. Seems to be worse than usual this week with some problems. Throw in that he's leaving for Berkeley on Friday and it ups his stress level. He's always more stressed before he leaves on travel because he's trying to finish up everything at work in preparation for being gone and so it won't be looming when he returns. We're staying home for Thanksgiving--hopefully he'll be able to relax some next weekend.

One funny thing from this week--I was lying in the recliner and the cat was lying on me across my belly when Baby kicked up a storm. The cat gave me the strangest look like "What the hey?" then walked over to the other chair to continue his nap, uninterrupted. I think he and Baby will get along great.

This week's belly shots. Paul only took a couple and this was the better of the pictures. I'm good at blinking.
And just in case there are any questions:
That's right. Pregnant is the new skinny.

And I was reminded why I hate the mall

I've had friends and acquaintances who start wearing maternity clothes at the first sign of pregnancy bloat. I was not as excited about giving up my normal clothes. It's not even that I'm a fashionista with great clothes but I do like the clothes I have and I've finally got my "style" figured out--whatever it might be. I honestly didn't expect shopping for maternity clothes to be this difficult. My first attempt to buy maternity clothes a a month or so ago ended in tears with nothing really being purchased. I picked up a few items when I visited Donna but I was still mostly wearing my pre-pregnancy clothes with the pants unbuttoned. Taking the advise of a friend to order a bunch of stuff online and try on in the comfort and security of my own bedroom, I placed a couple of orders online and ended up with a few more things that I really liked. You have no idea what a happy pregnant woman I was when I walked out of the house on Tuesday wearing a denim skirt, black cable knit sweater, and black knee-high boots. For the first time in weeks, I felt like I looked like me. As I told one of my coworkers, this is what I look like when I'm not pregnant.

Every year for the past however many years, my mother-in-law always takes me shopping for my birthday. It's our annual outing and just a fun way for us to spend time together. And I will not say no to someone wanting to buy me clothes. We went again today as I didn't have school. When I was first pregnant, I knew that I'd have this day to look forward to in the maternity clothing department. However, I was also functioning under the assumption that I wouldn't actually need maternity clothes until about this time. Because in my head, I'm apparently much taller than I really am in the real world.

I had a few things to do this morning at the house, including waiting for someone from one of the roofing companies to come give us an estimate. I was told he would be at the house between 10:30 and 12:30 (hate that). Guess who showed up at 10:15? Guess who was just getting out of the shower when the doorbell rang? But it worked out fine and I was able to head over to my in-laws' house earlier than planned and my MIL and I were able to have lunch before heading out.

Shopping for maternity clothes isn't as much fun as shopping for regular clothes because it was pretty much us looking at stuff for me instead of both of us shopping and having a good time. MIL said she didn't mind since it was for my birthday but it will be more fun again next year when she can be a full participant. We only went to a couple of stores but I was able to find several new tops, pants, two dresses that I LOVE, and a couple of cardigan-type sweaters. Thank you for all you've done, veterans, including providing us with ridiculous sales like 25% off everything at Gap Maternity including sale items. Of course all the pants have to be hemmed which goes back to the not as tall as I think I should be.

There are still things I look at longingly that are sitting there in my closet, just waiting for me to be able to wear them again. I guess liking my pre-pregnancy wardrobe is good motivation to lose all the baby weight I gain.

And for the title--seriously. I hate the mall. Mobs of wandering teenagers and those obnoxious people at the kiosks who want to sell me hand cream or gold chains by the foot, or a onesie that said "Made in Burque" or "505" in Old English script like the gangstas all use. Although that last thing would be pretty funny for a little gringo baby. I might have to brave another trip....

A bit quiet around here

Things are going well as far as the pregnancy goes. Weeks 22 and 23 have been relatively uneventful as far as any new developments. My OB appointment during week 22 included a sonogram which my mom was able to be there for. Baby was moderately cooperative with the pictures although he wouldn't pose for the profile picture my mom wanted. The doctor declared both mama and baby healthy and deemed there to be no reason for me to continue with the perinatologist visits.

This past week, I attended my first Pregnafit class at the gym. It's basically really, really low impact aerobics for pregnant people. I'm going to try some of the prenatal yoga classes as well. I'm doing a decent job of hitting the gym most weeks and either doing the treadmill or elliptical machine and some light weights. I think it's doing a pretty good job of keeping the aches and pains at bay. I've slacked off a bit the past two weeks and have felt more icky the past two weeks than I have any other time. So exercise and prenatal massages are worthwhile indulgences. I can also say week 23 is when I definitively felt the baby kicking on the outside. He's apparently taken up kickboxing classes about 4:00 every afternoon. And then he'll do his softshoe routine on my bladder. Love this boy.

I've decided to not take any classes next semester since Baby will be making an appearance right about midterms. I'll have 18 hours at the end of this semester--halfway through the program--so I'll definitely continue with it. I'll probably take one class during the summer and then go from there as to how to finish up.

Other than that, things have been pretty quiet for both of us. There is a bit of melancholy that seems to have settled over the house. Paul's job is going through a rough time--more work than money and they are having to cut a few more people which makes for even more work for those left. He's understandably stressed about that as well as how the impending arrival of a wee one will impact his crazy work hours. I'm just moody and hormonal and not liking the number today's birthday brought which is making me even moodier. It's been a great weekend around these parts, let me tell you. Cheery. Festive. Woohoo. But we know how to work through it and we're doing just that. This too shall pass and things will be cheerier once again.

Week 21

This week has been pretty uneventful. Paul was out of town all week for work and a conference in Seattle. The cat and I held down the fort here, generally watching bad television and going to bed much too late every night. This weekend has been a good mix of work and play. I spent a good part of yesterday visiting the Homes of Enchantment and having lunch with my friend Devlyn while Paul stayed at the house and goofed off. We invited him to come with us. His refusal was swift and definite.

On the baby front, I definitely can't deny that I'm pregnant. I've discovered that if I wear maternity clothes, people will ask when I'm due. I'm slowly moving into maternity wear. I'm pretty much out of regular pants that I can wear unbuttoned with the Bella Band. I'm carrying pretty low--OK, very low since on the vaginal ultrasound at the peri's two weeks ago done to measure my cervix, you could see Baby's ear just a bit above the cervix. He won't have far to drop, that's for certain. Since the bump is pretty low, I've been able to get away with wearing some of my empire cut tops and longer cut shirts rather than the maternity tops I've bought.

I'm definitely feeling him move more. When I was watching a movie on Tuesday, I'm fairly certain I felt a little foot/head/arm on the outside of my stomach. I haven't felt it again but I do feel him moving. When I was in the shower this morning, apparently Baby felt the need to shift very suddenly and definitively to the left. Odd when one side of your stomach bulges out and is very hard and the other side is soft and mushy. I know I'm in for more of this--he's a very active little fellow. I keep telling him to move all he can now because his mama is short and he won't have much room in another month or two.

Week 21 pictures--gratuitous picture of Paul and the cat. Paul was very sweet and patient taking the belly picture that I suggested he take and then proceeded to criticize all the pictures he took and generally groused about having having my picture taken. Very understanding, this one:
We were arguing as to whether or not I needed to raise up my shirt. I don't think so but Paul said I did. So here are both of the pictures:

And I would just like to say that this kid is KILLING my complexion. I'm broken out more than a hormone-ridden 16 year old. I know it's because I'm a pregnancy-hormone ridden 34 year old but this is one part I could do without. I'll be lording this over the boy when he's older. Don't think I won't.

Weeks 19/20

So, um, yeah. Things have been busy around this place. The past two weeks have flown by in a whirlwind of activity--or something like that. Paul and I were trying to figure out why and how we managed to schedule ourselves on so many weekends in September and October. During September, we had an assortment of activities from Labor Day on. The first weekend in October was our anniversary and Balloon Fiesta. The second weekend, we were in Lubbock for Tech homecoming. Last weekend, I went to Ft. Worth to visit Donna although the basis of the trip was actually to go to the IKEA store in Frisco to look at baby furniture.

I kept seeing a crib mentioned on several Best Baby Bargains lists and I really wanted to look at it. I'm not at all sentimental about the baby's crib perhaps because I know it will be used a couple of years and then sold or donated. I didn't care to purchase an "heirloom" crib and I didn't want to lock into a three-way convertible crib (one that uses the crib rails as head/foot boards).

So, to IKEA Donna and I went. I've looked at the website before. I've heard tales about IKEA stores. Holy cow. I don't think either of us was prepared for the enormity of the actual IKEA store/warehouse. It took us 20 minutes just to weave our way to the exit and that was without much dawdling. I do like the looks of the crib--although I will admit that there was a small tinge of guilt that it's not fancier but I think that is just because there was another lady in IKEA who was purchasing one of these cribs as the secondary/grandma's house crib. I will be sending Donna back in December to brave the store once again to purchase Baby's crib and dresser. We're still debating the tall storage unit.

Also during this trip--when we weren't visiting with the couple of friends I could squeeze in during the 36 hours I was in D/FW--we headed to the Container Store. I was wanting to get an idea for redoing the closet in Baby's room. It is a 5-ft. square walk-in closet that Baby will be sharing with some of Paul's books and board games. Currently, it has a single rod and shelf on of the three walls as well as some crummy shelves Paul and I put up a couple of years ago for Paul's books. The plan is to gut the closet and start from scratch I had an idea on what I wanted and Bob, the friendly Container Store employee, hooked me up with a shelving system that gets lots of shelf storage (mostly for Paul) as well as drawers and hanging space. (OK, that link is just to the general elfa page because I can't link to our actual plan.) When I was showing Paul the plan, he commented that he and his dad could do something like that. And I said, yes, you and your dad can install this lovely closet system and it will be much easier than trying to get you and your dad to actually create/build/install such a thing. Again, Donna will be playing delivery person in December and bringing us all this stuff. We figure paying her gas (even over-paying her gas) for the trip home at Christmas is still cheaper than paying delivery costs (and no, ABQ doesn't have a Container Store or IKEA any nearer than Phoenix or D/FW).

We haven't actually done anything in the room to prepare for Baby--it is still currently a ginormous dumping ground for everything that doesn't have a home and assorted Paul things but we've made some serious headway in planning for Baby. In addition to the closet, crib, and dresser, we've also found some narrow bookcases that we like for either side of the window in the room. I'm willing to spend a bit more on these because I know that I will keep them in the room longer or move them to another place in the house to use at a later time. I'm not sure what color I'm going to order--probably play it safe and go with either the espresso or white but I really like the navy blue. The final thing we've found that we like is the crib bedding. I'd toyed around with a couple of ideas on how to do the room but ultimately thought the little guys on this bedding were just about perfect. I also love the polka dots. I'd found a polka dot bedding set that was quite cute and gender neutral but Paul nixed it. This was a good combination of happy animals and polka dots. We'll probably paint the room a blue that coordinates with the bedding and I've debated adding some dots in the same colors as the bedding to the walls. I've got a couple of ideas for artwork (not the ones that match the crib bedding--a little too sweet for me). Now, all we've got to do is get it all together but we probably won't do that until January or February.

I attempted my first shopping trip for maternity clothes last week and came away in tears with two pairs of leggings and a dress that I'm not that fond of but it fit when nothing else did. I assumed it would be easier to buy maternity clothes than regular clothes--like all my trouble spots (butt and thighs) would magically disappear or the clothes would magically be cut to fit my ever-expanding trouble spots. When I was with Donna this weekend, we went to Target because I'd forgotten my toothbrush and while we were there, I tried on a couple of things that were approved by Donna and I acquiesed to purchase (a pair of jeans, a pair black trousers, a sweater, and 3 t-shirts because if one fits, buy it in every color). Apparently, I will need the buddy-system when trying on maternity wear. My ego needs stroking.

In the past two weeks, I've had more people/strangers commenting on the bump. Baby has definitely made his presence known. So far, I've been told I'm really small and I'm really big. Who knows what I actually am. Normally sized pregnant for someone who is 5'4" most likely. I'll admit I'm worried I'm going to be enormous before this is all over. Since I'm almost officially 21 weeks, I'll wait and post a picture in a couple of days.

18 weeks

Yeah, my eyes are closed and it's not a great picture because I was goofing off with Paul and Michelle (Paul's cousin's wife) about this being Baby's first Balloon Fiesta. But that's 18 weeks and Baby is definitely making himself known. A coworker came into the library with her class this week (she'd been in last week as well) and told me, "I'm going to be really embarrassed if you're not but are you?" I said yes, yes I am weirdly fat. I'm also starting to feel Baby more although it's not very strong movements--just an odd sensation every so often. I saw the OB this week--it's probably the first time in my life I've ever been congratulated on gaining weight. I still feel really good--lots of energy, nothing too bad as far as food aversions or cravings. I still feel the need to take naps every afternoon but I felt that way even when I wasn't gestating.

I find myself thinking in terms of how old Baby will be when we do __fill in the blank__. It's crazy to imagine we'll have a 6-month-old in tow if we go to the Balloon Fiesta next year.

17 weeks

A friend asked me this week how I was feeling and commented that if she didn't know better, I didn't really seem pregnant. I have to agree. If I didn't know better, I'd say that I don't really feel pregnant. I'm feeling really good this week--still a little more tired than I normally am in a non-pregnant state but other than that, I feel good. I still have a little problem sleeping but nothing horrible. Paul commented that it seems I'm more sensitive to being woken up which I'd agree with. I've discovered that if I'll get up and go to the bathroom when I'm in that almost-awake state, I tend to go back to sleep right away. So even if I don't think I need to do so, I blindly make my way in that direction. And usually, I need to. The sonogram tech told me last week that baby is hanging out really low--just a little above my cervix--and I think he's mostly crowding my bladder. It's going to be a long five more months.

The queasiness seems to have passed as well. One of the things I've discovered is that Baby apparently dislikes tomato sauce so pizza and pasta are pretty much out. I'm not sure what it is--not the spicy since I'm still LOVING green chile and spicy food. I can eat tomatoes so I think it's that tomato sauce is just too acidic for me now. I've not eaten any for two weeks and for two weeks, no nausea. Paul keeps asking if I want to try pizza again. Mostly not since I'm feeling good now. I've told him I'd try it again some Friday evening (to give myself the entire weekend to recover if Baby still doesn't agree with it).

There was one time that I'm very certain I've felt the baby move. There have probably been some other flutters but nothing that really stands out. I was pounding out some chicken cutlets on Sunday, making breaded chicken to have in the freezer for last-minute meals. Paul and I were chatting as I was doing this which took 10 minutes to cut and pound the chicken. As I was finishing up, I felt very definite flutters that had to be Baby. I just told Paul that that was weird. Great way to describe it but "weird" is pretty much the best descriptor I could use at that time. I've not felt it again since but then again, there's not been any loud banging occurring very near my uterus since that time.

School has been fun this week. The homecoming game is tonight so the week has been full of all the festivities surrounding that. Obviously, a high school of 2000 people does things a little different than a high school of 50 like I attended but not as much as I thought. There is still the homecoming court, the spirit week with different spirit days, all the rest of the hoopla. During lunch today, there was a pep rally and Homecoming carnival where the different groups at school sell food--hamburgers, frito pies, nachos, caramel apples, popcorn, etc. and I think there were a few little games set up as well. That was fun to go down and walk through. I overindulged but it was well worth it. And supported a good cause.

Since we didn't have football, Texline's homecoming was during basketball season with ceremony between the girls' and boys' basketball games. Even the homecoming football games I attended growing up (Dumas, Sunray, Clayton), the homecoming coronation was during halftime of the football game. Not so in Albuquerque--it was an hour-plus long coronation ceremony held in the school gym yesterday. And boy did they milk it for all it was worth--each candidate was introduced as was their accomplishments in high school, their goal in 10 years, what it meant to them being on the homecoming court, who they like to thank, who they most admired, and their favorite quote. A little weepy in the beginning but I'll admit that by the end, I was playing on my Blackberry. I don't know the kids who won but the library student aide I was sitting beside was very pleased.

And in the fun world of homecoming, mums are not really done in Albuquerque but one of the groups at the high school was selling little ones. I was trying to explain to students who were so confused by the idea of a mum just all the wonderousness that is a homecoming mum. The library aide and I were laughing about them and how much fun the mums and garters are in Texas. Today, we bought one for our student aide who is on homecoming court. Our aide was thrilled. As was I when I realized that she'd bought me one as well. I have my own little homecoming mum to wear to the game tonight. I'm so excited.
I think I had one about this size when I was in 2nd grade. We do them up much bigger in Texas.
Baby and Mummy wearing a mum. Hee. I'm such an Anglophile that that is really funny to me.

17 weeks belly shot--not much change from last week. It really depends on the time of day when the picture is taken as to how big I look. It's little blurry but I didn't want to wait for Paul to get home and I really should have cleaned that mirror.

Paul and all of this

Everyone keeps asking if we're excited about Baby? and isn't Paul so happy? and do you have names?

Eh.

Depending upon who I'm talking to, my answer to those questions vary. Usually, it's a simple "Yes, we're excited but we don't have names yet." For those people who actually know Paul pretty well, the answer is a bit more complicated.

Yes, we're happy about the upcoming arrival to our house but that happiness is definitely tempered with other feelings as well. Paul still gets a completely overwhelmed stressed look on his face whenever Baby is mentioned. It doesn't help that work is incredibly stressful for him right now. There were a series of mistakes on a project make by some of his coworkers that Paul is now dealing with making right. Baby is pretty much the least of his worries right now. And, yeah, I can't say that he's totally happy about becoming a father. He was never 100% certain about wanting to be a dad--this was my idea that he went along with. Like he said, he could have done something to stop it so it's not that he's completely opposed to the thought. I think he'll get on board pretty quick when the little one arrives but if you mention it to him now, he pretty much looks like he's going to throw up.

Needless to say, I'm not really pushing the subject of baby names or nursery decorations or any of that. No, we're not walking around pretending I'm not pregnant but it's definitely not the center of every conversation we have. There are plenty of other things to fill our conversations. Entire evenings will go by when we've talked about work stuff, things we heard on the news, funny things we read with no mention of Baby. Pretty much what we've done for the past 10 years. I don't think that's so odd, is it? Life goes on. I would get a totally overwhelmed stressed look on my face if I had to talk about Baby all the time.

We have talked about how things will change once there is a little one around. I don't knock the decisions other people make in raising their children. I think everyone does what they believe is best for their child and their situation. I will say I've never understood our friends who refuse to leave their child with any non-familial babysitter especially since their families are both in the South. It's been hard to maintain/grow a friendship since we so rarely do anything with them because of their kids. And they aren't bad kids; just always there. They've had some offers of babysitters from people I would totally trust--and really when Baby goes to bed at 6:00, all you're doing is paying someone to watch TV while you go to dinner. I can still remember having babysitters when I was little--not often so it was a big deal when we had one. We'd get to eat exotic food like fish sticks and French fries or chicken pot pies. That was such a cool thing that I still remember it over 25 years later.

One of Paul's coworkers who has grown children told him that she really wished she'd gotten/said yes to more help when her kids were little. I'm all for that--part of my big cleaning fit right now is to clear out stuff so we can hire a housekeeper without feeling embarrassed by our loads of treasures. Plus, I don't think Baby will be scarred if we get a high school girl to come hang out for an hour or two so Paul and I can have some grown-up time even if it's just to go to Target. I've got fabulous friends who have already said that they'll babysit. I love and trust these people and would have no qualms about leaving my child in their care. And I've already told them that they better not be joking because I'm already planning on that. Not every week but why not the occasional date night? Baby will get to hang out with some cool people that will ply him full of sugar and hugs and kisses.

There has been one funny exchange in which the true, goofy Paul was shown when discussing Baby. On Wednesday evening, we were talking and I told Paul that I had forgotten to tell him something from Monday's sonogram visit. While it doesn't mean our child is exceptional or anything like that, he was already practicing using his diaphragm. On the sonogram, you could see him "breathing" and his chest moving in and out. Paul, in mock seriousness, told me, "Well, of course he is already breathing. Did you expect us to have a child who was AVERAGE?"

I think everything is going to be just fine.

A mother's intuition

Today was another visit to the perinatologist for another sonogram and more measurements. This one was fantastic because I got to wear a mask through the whole thing--something they're asking of all patients during flu season. Hot and steamy and I could totally feel my rosacea acting up on my chin. And there's nothing I love more than having a bright red shiny chin. I'm not a believer that the mask is going to do much to prevent me getting the flu--that would come from concientious hand-washing and use of hand sanitizer when soap and water aren't available. Using tissues, sneezing into your elbow, etc. But I wore the mask while I was in the office. I cheated during the sonogram an pulled it out so I could breathe and the lower portion of my face could get air.

Nothing exciting about this visit. My weight is up an appropriate amount (2 lbs.), blood pressure was 90/64, pulse was 68. Baby's heart rate was 143. All the measurements were looking good. I'm 16 weeks and Baby's measuring right around 17 weeks. It took about 1.5 hours for the appointment because the baby kept moving around. I think I've felt Baby moving but people say it feels like fluttering. I don't feel fluttering. I am just momentarily aware that I have a uterus. Apparently, I'm giving birth to a soccer player though because that child is moving all around. Enjoy the room while you've got it, kid. Your mama is short and the space definitely won't last long. Baby is sitting really low right now too--the head is just above my cervix (which looked good--millimeters thinner than what the doctor wanted but because it was such a small margin, the techs didn't alert the doctor).

Unfortunately Paul got caught at work because I knew this would likely be the visit in which we could find out what flavor we're having. I told him that I wasn't going to find out because I wanted him to be there and I told the sonogram tech the same thing. The tech said she'd tell me when to close my eyes. I'd seen both Abigail's and Benjamin's sonogram pictures so I knew vaguely what girl parts and boy parts look like on the sonogram screen. At one point today, I thought she was looking at the head (she had been so it's a natural thought) and I asked if what I was looking at was the eye sockets. Apparently, Baby had moved and we were then looking at the bottom end. So, I wasn't really concerned that I would know what I was looking at on the screen

Then Baby flipped again and I said, "Oh. That looked like boy parts."

I will give the sonogram tech credit in that she said absolutely nothing. A second tech came in to do some other pictures and asked if we were finding out. By this point, I was fairly certain as to what I'd seen. I had to go to the bathroom and told them that I thought I'd call Paul to see what he thought. When I was back in the exam room with Paul on the phone, I told him that the tech knew and I thought I knew but she would tell me. He agreed to just find out and she confirmed that I had indeed seen what I thought I saw. Paul laughed and said, "Oh, no. Now we have to worry about things being destroyed." That's the attitude, honey. One of his coworkers said that at least we only had to worry about one penis and not lots of penises. Nothing but support, those engineers.

So my dream was right--perhaps my first taste of mother's intuition. This baby is going to be a boy. Not just any boy--the first firstborn son on for my mom's side of the family since my grandfather was born over 80 years ago. We don't have many boys in the family--we're definitely heavy on the estrogen at family reunions and the boys in the family are either the second or third child. Not that it will make him any more special than any of the other babies born during that time. He's just proof that a son can be born first. While I was thinking of this, I also thought "Poor Sarah." I don't know if she wanted a girl cousin or if it even mattered to her but a part of me wanted another girl for her in Paul's family.

Here is 16 weeks. Looking a little more rounded although mostly just chubby still. And I really should take these earlier in the day. I'm smaller in the morning but at least then I'm wearing makeup and don't look so scary.


Jub at 16 weeks. I always think he looks a little drunk when he sits like this.

Why the perinatologist?

I guess there are some portions of this pregnancy thing that I've skipped over because it was happening when we still weren't talking about it (when it was only the worst kept secret in the world). Here's the scoop on the perinatologist.

Some background to begin--in November 2003, I went in for my annual gynecological exam and afterwards, I had a call from the doctor that the Pap smear was abnormal and that I'd need to schedule a follow-up procedure. I think she told me there was a chance of cervical dysplasia and the follow up procedure, a colposcopy, was needed to confirm the diagnosis and determine the severity of the dysplasia as well as how many spots there were. Since the dysplasia was caught early enough (a definite benefit to having annual Pap smears), all that was needed was a LEEP procedure which occurred in January 2004. It was an in-office treatment and Paul came with me. I probably would have been fine to go by myself but the moral support was definitely necessary. It was a pretty uneventful procedure, everything went well, and I relaxed the rest of the day, acutely aware for the first time of where my cervix was actually located.

At the follow-up, the doctor said that it had been a smallish spot and the edges had been clear so all that would be needed would be Pap smears every three months for the first year, every six months the second year, and annually afterwards. Except that after the first year, I was still getting abnormal Paps back so I had to continue the every three months thing for longer--maybe 18 months. I don't really remember. Just when we were thinking things were going to be OK, during the summer of 2006, a Pap smear revealed abnormal cells from my uterus and I got to have an intrauterine swab.

I cannot say how excruciatingly painful this procedure was. The doctor said that I'd probably only need about four Advil beforehand to give me a little relaxer but it was a quick procedure--less than 10 minutes--so he wouldn't give me anything else. Short but he didn't mention the B-A-D bad part. Basically, the doctor takes a swab and runs it up through the cervix, all the way up into the lower part of uterus and starts scraping. You know how a normal Pap feels--a little pinching? That but MUCH worse. My uterus pretty much revolted and started cramping, HARD and sharply, pretty much immediately. It was 10 of 10 pain and I was crying almost immediately because of it. I know my discomfort was really bothering Paul. I think even Paul was ready to tell the doctor to stop it, it's not worth this. The doctor and nurse were both telling me to lie still, just breathe through it, Paul was doing his best to keep me still and calm, and all I wanted to do was get out of there. The doctor said he didn't know if he had gotten enough cells but if we had to do it again, he'd give me anesthesia. I think I'd requested Valium or some such drug beforehand and I think he thought I was joking. Paul told me afterwards that the next time the doctor told me it was going to be something a few Advil would work for, to ram my head into the wall repeatedly until I knocked myself out. Thankfully there were enough cells and the test came back negative. Subsequent Pap smears also came back clear and finally, the past two years have had clear Pap smears. (That's really not part of the story; I just wanted a little sympathy for what I went through.)

So, the perinatologist--

At the doctor's visit in July for the pregnancy confirmation, the doctor gave us a few minutes together before he came in with all the rest of the information for us. I don't know if that is his standard practice but it was appreciated since we were jet-lagged and emotional. Then all the bucket-loads of information came at us. He recommends no caffeine the first trimester, limit cold cuts and soft cheeses, sushi is out in his opinion. He's a single practitioner so we'll need to see someone else, here's the name of the doctor and practice he's referring OB patients to. Oh, yeah, you had the LEEP and you'll be 35 when Baby is born so you're of advanced maternal age, we'll schedule an appointment with the perinatologist for genetic screening and monitoring. Keep taking vitamins. And, oh yeah, congratulations. Let us know when Baby is born.

The perinatologist visit was three weeks later and we met with a genetic counselor. Paul and I have very few, if any, indicators of genetic anomalies that we needed to worry about and since we're pretty much the last people having children in our families, we knew that there had been nothing for anyone earlier. Neither of our mothers could remember any incidences that might be cause for concern. We opted for the level 2 screening which requires two blood draws to rule out the possibility of chromosomal abnormalities, a spinal abnormality, and cystic fibrosis. There was also a sonogram to take measurements of Baby, who was being most uncooperative, including the nuchal fold at the base of the neck which can be an indicator of chromosomal abnormalities. So far, everything looks good (except for an already stubborn child). That was the perinatologist visit for the advanced maternal age side of things.

Because of the LEEP procedure and the fact that I have scar tissue on my cervix, there is a *slight* chance that my cervix could become compromised. I'll continue to see the perinatologist every month until at least 20 or 24 weeks to monitor the condition of my cervix. I'll alternate visits every two weeks with the perinatologist and the OB/GYN. The OB/GYN said that he'd "spring" me from the perinatologist's office after my last screening work was done (I can't remember if that is 20 or 24 weeks) because he's seen very little that indicates the cervix will compromise after 20 weeks. While it's a pain to go to a doctor's office that much, it is fun to get to see pictures of Baby all the time (I've had three sonograms already). I don't know what we're going to do yet--we've got at least 6 weeks to decide. In the meantime, I'm glad that I've got people watching this to make certain things stay like they should.

14 weeks

I had another appointment this afternoon. This is the fourth one I have had--we went in last week to meet the OB/GYN. Because of the monthly visits with the perinatologist, the doctor wanted me to come in this week because then my appointments will be every two weeks.

Today I met the midwife who works at the practice. I'll see her every other month or so. It was a very uneventful appointment--pee in a cup, weigh, blood pressure, chat, listen to heartbeat. She does want me to get a flu shot in October. That was my only real question since I've been asked by several people if I'm worried about swine flu. I'm not any more than I'm worried about the regular flu. I've never had a flu shot before--I'm honestly more worried about that shot than getting sick. The good news she gave me is that Paul will have to get a shot as well. Finally, he has to be poked and prodded in this process.

After the appointment, I ran a few errands including going to my favorite little shop, Red Geranium. I was hoping to find a few things to donate to an auction at the end of the month. As I walked in, the clerk greeted me and asked how my summer had gone. I had been in during June, picking up a gift for my MIL and I'd mentioned our upcoming trips. As we chatted this afternoon, she asked about the trips. I said that they'd both gone well and then I'd just hibernated the rest of the summer until school started. She smiled and asked, "Any other exciting news?" I guess I'm looking more pregnant than I thought. :) When I told her yes, she laughed loudly. She commented that I'm normally so thin (people are really too nice with that compliment) and the stomach didn't just look like something I'd get from eating on a cruise.

Here's the 14 week belly shot. I do think in the past couple of days, the belly is starting to pop. Still just look like I've dug into too many French fries but at least, it's looking less like that.
Paul said we needed a front shot for comparison. I'm showing him the itchy red spot I had.
And just for good measure, Paul at 14 weeks:

So I had this dream. . .

It was a week or so ago and it was just a snippet of a dream in which I heard someone say, "It's a boy. His name is Max. He weighs 7 lbs. 15 oz. just like his mama did."

Hmmm. . . . Let's evaluate this--

1. Baby's name will most definitely not be Max. I like the name but it's Donna's cat's name. That's just not happening.

2. I did weigh 7 lbs. 15 oz. when I was born (Paul was 8 lbs. 8 oz.). Max, aka The Big Fat Cat, has not weigh 7 lbs. 15 oz. in many years so I'm fairly certain my dream was not in reference to him.

3. My gut reaction since finding out I was pregnant has been to refer to Baby as "he." Amy said with Abigail, she referred to Baby as "she" so she thinks I'm having a boy.

We will be finding out the gender of the baby. I'm too much of a planner to not do so. That news will be coming in 5-6 weeks. As for Baby's weight, I guess we'll just have to wait 27 weeks to find out that one.

More about my delicate state

Several years ago, someone asked me if I purchased baby things "just in case" we had a baby. I didn't for a variety of reasons--we weren't sure we were going to have children, it seemed to be tempting the fates if we did decide to have children and then had fertility issues, and I just don't have much room to store stuff like that in my little house. I've got a variety of children's books at the house but most of those have been purchased to have on hand for baby gifts.

There was one thing I just couldn't stop myself from purchasing when I saw it a couple of years ago. I always thought that if we weren't/couldn't have children, I'd give it to one of my friends with the books I give for Baby but until then, I stored it away for myself.
A wee little onesie that just seemed too perfect for a librarian's kid (purchased at Uncommon Goods which is easily one of my favorite online places to purchase gifts).

I keep thinking I need to start taking pictures of the pregnancy belly since I'm 13 weeks along but it seems rather anti-climatic at this point in time. Mostly, I look (and feel) like I just need to lay off the french fries a bit. I've not gained much weight--only a couple of pounds so far. My belly pooch is just big enough that most of my clothes are uncomfortable, even with the rubber band trick. I remedied that a bit by buying some pants that are a size or so bigger than I normally wear. Tops are still fitting fine, especially since the trend the past couple of years has been for the blousier cut that has made every woman look like she might be possibly be pregnant.

My OB/GYN told me that unless it was unreasonable (gaining or not gaining), he wouldn't say a word to me about my weight but to remember that every pound I gain is a pound I have to take off. Be smart with the eating, expect to gain 25-35 pounds, and don't worry about what the scale says. And then he asked my 6'3" husband how much he weighs (between 185 and 190 currently) and commented to me, "Yeah. You could be within 10 lbs. of him." Huh! That's not the reassurance I need right now, Doc. I'm really working to accept the numbers on the scale that I've never seen before. It's hard since I spend so much time fighting those numbers to just enjoy this one bit of freedom I have with the scale. Not that I've been going crazy with the eating--trying to stick our mostly-healthy eating habits and just adding in a couple of snacks during the day (peanut butter! or some extra fruit). One of my big aversions so far as been chocolates/sweets so I've definitely not overindulged in that department. I also figured out that tomato sauce like on pasta or pizza has been a culprit behind my queasiness so I'm avoiding those for a bit longer as well.

I promise not to make this place only about The Most Miraculous Pregnancy in 2000 Years. I'm sure there will be other things to discuss along the way. Like preparations for the birth of The Most Miraculous Child EVER. Um, yeah. This child is really going to need a sense of humor to survive his/her parents.

June 30, 2009

Intuition or just a feeling that I knew before that day but that was the official day that confirmed I'm pregnant. That is the day that I think both Paul and I will point to as a changing point in our marriage. Like at that point, at 7:30 in the morning when I showed him the stick with a plus sign, we had to grow up and stop playing at being grown ups. Even if this thing didn't stick, some fundamental part of our marriage--of us--was changed with that little piece of plastic.

I've never missed a period in 21+ years and while my cycle varies from 30-33 days, it's always been there. I actually warned Paul prior to day 30 that something was different--I didn't feel "normal." I kept waiting to actually take the pregnancy test--it was several days late for even a 33 day cycle. I kept telling myself that I'd wait until Tuesday, or Wednesday, or hey, July is right around the corner. We agreed that I needed to do it before we left for the cruise on July 3, just because it would be good knowledge to have before I knocked back a Mai Tai or two or twelve on the ship.

But June 30, I finally screwed up the courage to pull a pregnancy test out of the bathroom cabinet. I'm not even sure how I ended up with it or when it was purchased. Even with no recollection of when the test was actually purchased, it wasn't past it's expiration date. I've taken a few pregnancy tests in the past 9 years, I think mostly for kicks and grins. Typically the results went like this--pee on the stick, wait two minutes, throw stick in trash, continue with life. Who knew that you don't actually have to wait two minutes when you're going to pass the test? That thing pretty much goes nuclear before you've had a chance to flush.

I showed Paul and he who studied out the test and instructions like one of his schematics. We stared at each other for a bit. We both said, "Huh." And that was that.

I'm pregnant. I'm due March 1, 2010.

I called the gynecologist's office just to chat with someone about the do's and don'ts (and get some basic reassurance) before we left on vacation. Paul and I agreed that because it was so early, we weren't going to say anything to the family on the cruise (WORST. SECRET. EVER.). We screwed up our courage against the fact that there was a 20-25% chance it wouldn't stick and started doing what will probably pretty much be the motto for the rest of our lives--we'll take this one day at a time.

And yeah, the reason we HAD to get home from Quebec was the doctor's appointment ( I couldn't reschedule with our two trips in July) that confirmed I was, in fact, 8 weeks and 5 days pregnant with a singleton. Baby had a strong heartbeat and the wee-ist nubbins of arms and legs that were kicked and waved around during the sonogram. Looks like it stuck.