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Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Single Digit Countdown

Nine days left.

Also, this used to be a dress (enjoy some classic American Apparel nipples if you click that link).  Also, my hair is dumb today. Also, the water bottle I'm holding looks like some kind of odd pseudo penis. Never mind the plastic phallus.

On top: normal belly (my vantage point). On bottom: how she hung out for about two hours, pushed all the way to the right.

Monday, June 27, 2011

38 weeks

I don't like my outfit today, so no picture. Plus, it's increasingly difficult to find things to wear that are long enough. The BellaBand (a black stretchy band that you can use to cover up the gaps) is the only thing maintaining a semblance of dignity at this point.

Tomorrow we'll begin the single digit countdown - 9 days until her scheduled arrival. Just over a week.  And yes, the house is still a disaster. And yes, I'm slightly panicky about bringing a baby home to it.  But....dude. We're. Bringing. A. BABY. HOME (fingers crossed knock on wood).  Remembering that, focusing on that, makes all the other stuff melt away.  Mostly.  However, somehow I still can't fathom that this kid is coming out and we're going to have a real live child living with us and that our lives are going to change forever in an instant. I don't know if you can ever truly comprehend that until you've done it.  It just blows my mind.

In other news, I'm officially what I believe they call "heavily pregnant."  I am waddling. I can't help it. She's so low I can't walk straight.  The pressure is intense. Sometimes painful, but always present. Today my feet are pretty swollen, but I'm not sure why. That usually only happens when I've been on my feet a lot, so probably I should go home and put them up and eat some ice cream. Doctor's orders!*  (*Not really.)  Stretch mark update? Still just Judy.  Well, not "just" Judy. She's sprouted arms and legs. But they're very small and very light and very not noticeable, so I forgive her.  Belly button update? Disgusting. Here's my word of warning to anyone not yet pregnant: DON'T PIERCE YOUR BELLY BUTTON. It is NOT pretty at 9 months pregnant. I was smart and got my tattoos in places that wouldn't stretch or get saggy (back of neck, tramp stamp, wrist) but I sure fucked up on that one. If I could I'd go back and tell 21-year-old-me to skip that shit. Plus, I got it in a tent at a music festival. What the hell was I thinking? I'm lucky I didn't get tetanus or gangrene or Ebola.  Kids those days. Tsk tsk.  Cellulite update? Also disgusting. I would trade that in for a million stretch marks.

Still, despite the deformed belly button scar, for the most part this has been a very easy pregnancy, thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster. And still, for the most part, I adore being pregnant. I wish I could somehow capture forever the exact feeling of little hands and feet and knees and elbows and butts (well, one butt) moving across my stomach. It's truly one of the most amazing, wonderful, unbelievable, mind-blowing things I've ever felt and I am seriously going to miss it.  I have video and pictures but I know that I'll forget this incredible feeling soon enough. When I tell Chris that I'll miss it, he just replies, "I guess we'll just have to get you knocked up again soon."  Which right now I'm all for since I'd love three kids pretty close in age. Talk to me again, however, in two months when we're in the midst of the worst of the newborn stage since everyone has warned me that we'll be pretty much completely miserable the first three months, minimum. Then, maybe I'll be going at Chris with scissors to attempt a home vasectomy. But now, three would be great.  


Sunday, June 26, 2011


How cute is the invite from the shower that my friends threw me??

And my associates at work thew me a little mini shower. SO THOUGHTFUL. They all get raises and the day off!

Friday, June 24, 2011


I am going to SCREAM. As I said in an earlier post, Chris's grandma died last week. Somehow, because all the other relatives live out of state and Catholic Services couldn't get in to the apartment to get all the unwanted furniture out before July 11, and they needed everything out by July 1, all of that shit is now living in our garage. Which was already housing all my brother's stuff from when he moved in with us and everything that was in our basement when we got new carpet (of which most of it is going to be sold on Craigslist, a garage sale, or sent to the Goodwill). Have I mentioned that I haven't parked in the garage in months? Because I haven't.

On top of that, Chris decided that we should completely move everything that was in one room to a completely separate room. Male nesting, maybe? I don't know. But whatever it is, it's causing me to seriously lose my shit. We've wanted to turn the basement into an office/family room for a long time by moving our super old hand-me-down couches down there and getting a nice new couch for the living room. Fine. I'm on board with that. I just wanted that done months ago...or since that failed, in a couple months. Instead, our old furniture is downstairs, and upstairs is a hodge podge collection of ugly pieces from his grandma's house. Like random chairs and I honestly don't even know because I haven't been home yet but I know what was at her house. DO NOT WANT. DO NOT WANT UGLY FURNITURE. DO NOT WANT UGLY MISMATCHED OLD PEOPLE FURNITURE. No offense, grandma, but your shit was ugly. I just want a nice living room. And it's now...the complete and total opposite. Chris promises it will only be like that for a month or two before we get a new living room set but A MONTH OR TWO ARE YOU KIDDING? He promises it's not bad and the new stuff is great but again...I know what was there and trust, there was nothing great there.

I don't even want to go home and see the insanity and the ugly and the huge mess. And every other room was put in complete and total disarray because of all this too. Except the nursery, which STILL isn't done but at least has some semblance of order. I might just curl up and live there for the next two months with the baby and just have him call us out when everything else is done.

UPDATE: Ok, it wasn't as bad as I thought. It's still a huge mess and I still have a panic attack looking at it, but his plans are solid and he assures me it will be okay. Breathe. Breathe.

You can't really tell in this pic, but she dropped overnight the other day. It's nice to have her ass out of my ribs.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Watermelon-size, indeed.

She. Is. HUGE.  I still don't think I look that pregnant from the front or the back, other than the fact that I'm missing approximately 32% of my waist. However, I turn to the side, and WHAM BAM THANK YOU MA'AM THERE THAT IS.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Full Freaking Term!!

Okay, child, you can come out ANY TIME NOW.  This is getting a little old. I'm grateful that it's just in the last couple weeks out of the entire 40 that I'm feeling it, but damn. It takes FOREVER to build a kid from scratch.

I actually also have a non-superficial, non-selfish reason for wanting her out. Yesterday my dad was admitted to the hospital and today they've diagnosed it as a pulmonary embolism - a blood clot in the lungs. I know two fathers of friends who passed away from that, so needless to say I'm freaking out.  I want my dad around; I want my daughter to meet her grandpa.  Chris's dad died in 2001, and my dad is the only shot she's got at the granddaughter/grandfather relationship.  Obviously I want him to be around for a long time - he is going to be such an amazing grandpa and knows so many fun tricks and games and just STUFF. Things that only he can teach her. And obviously I want him around to be a father to me as well. But maybe seeing her here and out will help him get better faster?  On the other hand, my mom and family don't need the stress of having two family members in the hospital at once (it'd be convenient if we were at the same place, but sadly we wouldn't be). However, on the THIRD hand (because I'm counting hands on an alien) who knows how long he'll be in the hospital...so we might both be in at the same time regardless, in which case the sooner she comes out and relieves me of this pressure the better.

Needless to say, thoughts and prayers for my papa are greatly appreciated.  This happened on our last day of funeral leave for Chris's grandma.  Please tell me that bad things don't REALLY happen in threes?

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Birth and Death

Sadly, Chris's grandmother died last night.  In an odd series of events, the cause went from being a stroke to a brain tumor to not a brain tumor but some other type of mass in the brain to gout (gout??!?!). So in other words, I have no idea what happened and she could have been run over by a rampaging llama for all I know.  It's very sad, but her husband passed away less than a year ago and she was in her late 80's, so not entirely unexpected.  She was a beautiful woman with a sharp sense of humor who loved to knock her husband down a peg (he was still a ladykiller at 90 and knew it), play cards (and beat the piss out of the "old people" at the home), and drink (it was never too early - we'd get there at 10am and she'd offer us a cocktail).  We'll definitely miss her and I'm so sad she missed the baby by literally weeks.

We have to travel 45 minutes for the funeral and surrounding family events, and being 9 months pregnant has certainly put a twist on the usual mourning thoughts, like:

1. What is the protocol if your water breaks in the middle of a funeral?
2. If I went into labor there, would I have time to drive back to my hospital here in town or would I be forced to deliver at a hospital there? 
3. Where can I strategically place myself during the funeral so I can pee at least two or three times without bringing more attention to myself than the smuggling-a-basketball-in-my-dress look will already be attracting?
4. Driving for 45 minutes = ouch, my poor poor vagina and ribs.
5. Maybe Chris can take all bumpy back roads on the way home since that's supposed to help encourage labor and at that point (Monday) I'll be full term.
6. Is it really bad that I'm thinking all this stuff instead of concentrating on, you know, the whole death thing? Is there some evolutionary standard that makes it so you can't think of anything but BABY. BABY. OMG BABY. BABY COMING SOON. MUST THINK OF BABY!? Because everything comes back to this damn baby lately. Ok. Lately? More like for the past 32 weeks. Since I first peed on the stick.
7. Man, there is going to be a LOT of drinking at this family gathering and I won't be able to partake. 
8. OMG, don't forget to refill your Tums stash in your purse otherwise it could get interesting. And embarrasing. And there's no dog there to blame it on.

I'm looking forward to seeing all Chris's family again since I haven't seen them since his grandfather passed away, but I do wish it was happier circumstances. They're a fun bunch in less depressing situations.  I do like picturing his grandma and grandpa together again, since I'm sure John (grandpa) got sick of chasing all the hot young angels in short dresses around (that's what I see at Halloween and I'm pretty sure that's based on biblical truth) and missed Kathie (grandma) a lot. And she probably missed having someone around to roll her eyes at and to share a drink with at 9am (we think grandma was probably pickled).

Rest in peace, grandma Kathie. And thank you for not going on the same day that the baby was born so that I didn't have to wonder the rest of my life if she was actually your reincarnated being! (See: everything goes back to the baby. Sigh.)

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

36 week appointment update

For a number of reasons...well, actually just one that's kind of embarrassing and I don't want to share because it makes me look dumb...but I guess I will because isn't that what blogging is all about? Looking like an idiot in a public forum? For one reason, which I will share, I had my Thursday appointment today instead of Thursday.

So this kid is usually crazy active. Like, when you do kick counts you are supposed to count ten movements in an hour and she usually does ten in - no joke - ten seconds. Yesterday morning she wasn't really moving around much like she usually does. She usually wakes me up with her aerobics and I spend half an hour or so watching The Belly Show. But that didn't happen. I was a tiny bit worried but figured I'd just pay closer attention the rest of the day. The rest of the day she didn't move much either...a few here and there, but nothing close to her regular acrobatics. When she was still being quiet this morning, I caved into my worries and called. The instructions I'd been given by the doctor regarding kick counts said to call if her movement decreases by 50% day over day, which they had...by far. I don't know if those instructions take into account the fact that she's usually on speed, though. The nurse had me come in just to check it out. Usually less movement just means the baby is having a quiet day, but it CAN mean something worse, like cord compression or distress. So one of those better-safe-than-sorry deals. Of course, two seconds after I got hooked up to the monitors she started dancing away and literally didn't stop moving the entire time (and hasn't all day). Lesson learned: babies are assholes who like to freak out their parents.

So since I was already there, they went ahead and did everything they would have done Thursday today.  She's estimated at 7lbs 7oz. That's the size of an average regular full term baby! She still has three weeks and a couple days to cook.  They add about a half a pound a week at this point. You do the math. Over nine pounds for sure.  My little overachiever!

Monday, June 13, 2011

36 weeks! That's nine months!

I'm nine months pregnant today! HOLY CRAP.  I'll be full term next Monday. In SEVEN DAYS.  After that it's anyone's guess as to when she'll come (though good money is on 7/7, when our c-section is scheduled). However, a number of people (including my mom and a complete stranger at a ball game) have told me there's no way I'll make it the three weeks until the scheduled eviction.  They're all making me believe it too, and if I do end up going the full time I'll be mad at all of them for convincing me otherwise. I just want to meet her! I'm getting antsy! Also, she's all up in my ribs and down in my vagina so there's no comfortable position to be in. Sitting, she scoots up higher into my ribs and tries to break them from the inside out. Standing, her full weight settles on the vag and shoots pain through my lady bits. Laying down, even with a nest of pillows, is a challenge.  So whenever you're ready, kiddo.

I start my weekly doctor appointments on Thursday...then there are two more...and then she's born!*

*Again, if not before then. Fingers crossed and stars wished on and all that.**

**As always: only assuming she's fully cooked and ready to go.

Belly-wise, it's still very large. I still just have the one lone stretch mark, who I've taken to calling Judy. I talk to Judy every day. "Judy, how are you doing down there? Can I get you anything? How about a rubbing of this nice luxurious pure vitamin E?" I don't want her to get lonely and feel the need to invite a bunch of her relatives over to party.  It's a sucky party, guys, you don't want to come!  No booze and you're constantly being drowned in Bio-Oil.  And the host doesn't like you! Might as well stay away.

I did get some actual kind of important stuff done this weekend. According to all the baby books you should get the car seat installed: so I did! Also you should start packing your hospital bag around this time: so I did!  In fact, the Walgreen's bag seen above contains a couple needed things - travel size body wash, deodorant, and a bag of Life Savers.  I also washed a handful of baby clothes, which came close to literally giving me a heart attack, but luckily it remained a figurative threat.  (Why? I have the boxes for everything baby sitting in my garage and a giant envelope full of receipts JUST IN CASE something happens. Taking tags off the clothes to wash them = tempting fate!)  I washed three or four NB size outfits (which, unless she comes in the next week, will prove to have been a stupid decision since they won't fit her) and a handful of 0-3 things. Enough to get me through a couple days at home before I'm able to easily take the stairs to do more laundry, but not enough to jinx anything. I hope.

There's not much other news to report. At some point I'll post pictures from the baby showers and at some point I'll post pictures of the nursery progress (of which there was some! yay!) and at some point I'll post about having a baby.  So stay tuned!

Monday, June 6, 2011

35/35 Milestone

Most people probably don't know what that means, but it's a big deal in the online pregnancy forum world, which isn't a niche community AT ALL, so I'm frankly shocked at your lack of knowledge: it means that I'm 35 weeks pregnant with 35 days left to go!  I remember seeing people posting about reaching that milestone back when we first found out in November, and thinking I'd NEVER get there. BUT I MADE IT BITCHES! (Not you, you're not a bitch. I'm not entirely sure what I meant by that but it felt right.) Whooo! Next milestone: full term in two weeks!  Then the real countdown to baby gets here! I never thought I'd say this, but...yeah, baby girl, it's okay if you come a little early assuming you are fully baked, meaning your lungs are developed and you can regulate your body temps and eat and poop and recite Shakespeare.

It's not that I no longer love being pregnant - feeling her squirm around in there is truly one of the greatest joys I've ever had. But. BUT. Yeah, I'm getting uncomfortable. It's just really been in the last two days, too. I had my first swollen feet and calves incident yesterday thanks to literal all-day activity, most of it on my feet, and slight dehydration.  We'll see how they do today or if that was the last I've seen of my ankle bones until fall.  I'm just also SO exhausted. SO TIRED. It's shocking I'm able to type this out without falling alseep on the keyboard. ajkldf;auyti4oqpytghioa;xkgja; Whoops, sorry.  I guess I couldn't!

Stretch marks. Hmmm. Not sure what to say on this front. I *think* that one arrived on the underside of my belly, but it's hard to see, even in a mirror.  If it is, fine by me.  While I hope that it doesn't invite any friends to join the party, it is what it is, and it's proof that baby girl is growing and growing and growing, so I'll take them. Honestly, it's not like I'm going to be showing off my stomach anytime after she's born. I think the days of cropped tops and bikinis ended long ago.  Well, the days of cropped tops ended in like 1992, but bikinis at least.  I'm more upset about all the cottage cheese on my thighs and ass, even though I've gained very little weight there.  Cellulite has come a callin' and THAT, I hate.  I would like to at least be able to wear dresses that don't double as tents and shorts at some point in the future but apparently my lower body is not appreciative of the 30 pound basketball I've asked it to support. 

That's all combined with the just general uncomfortableness of late term pregnancy - the limited breathing, the sore ribs and back, stretched stomach...overall, still, I love it, but the little annoyances are definitely becoming not-so-little.

34.5 weeks last Friday:


I've now had both my friend and family baby showers, and as soon as I get pictures uploaded from them I'll share. But two words: "Wow." and "THANK YOU." (See? The baby has stolen my brain. That was three words.)

Thursday, June 2, 2011

34 weeks (and a half!)

Don't you dare forget that half!  Chris keeps thinking I'm 36 weeks, which makes me want to punch him in the balls. Not because he's wrong, but because it makes ME think I'm 36 weeks and then I realize that I have six (really five) weeks left instead of four (really three).

But! It's definitely getting here. I can now officially say we're having a baby NEXT MONTH. Which is absolutely INSANE. Like Shaun T Insanity insane (please tell me I'm not the only one who gets sucked into these infomercials and think they're the most amazing product ever and have to force myself not to get them all??).

Last night was interesting.  As I was getting off work, I suddenly had extreme pain in my ribs and could not catch my breath for the life of me...as in, I would get out of breath just TALKING to someone.  After four and a half hours of that, with nothing I tried helping (walking, laying on my side, rocking on all fours), I called the on call doctor and was advised to go into labor and delivery to get checked out. So I went in and baby and I got hooked up to some monitors and I got an IV of fluid. I think that an IV of saline solution is the catch-all treatment for most pregnancy-related ills.  Not that I'm complaining - have you ever had one? You feel AMAZING afterward. I have a friend who worked in the Washington DC press pool, and he said the secret service would always give themselves IVs of saline solution after long nights.  God, I can only imagine all the stories that he CAN'T tell us. I want to know all the dirt! Can you imagine what someone in that position has seen and heard? I want political gossip! I want the dirt!

Okay, tangent over. Back to what's REALLY important: my fetus!

Anyway, they checked both of us out. My lung capacity was diminished on both sides, but both baby and I were fine on oxygen saturation. The first thing that the L&D nurse brought up as a possibility was that she (baby, not nurse) had moved into a transverse position. As soon as she (nurse, not baby) said that, the light clicked - earlier in the day I'd felt hiccups in a high side position and movement had been odd since then. Sure enough, within an hour or so of arriving at the hospital, there was a giant wave of movement (that hilariously set off all the sensors) and an almost immediate sense of relief.  DUR.  Despite the fact that the resident doctor lady later diagnosed it as something different (something about rib cartilage swelling; I can't remember exactly) I'm pretty certain that the first nurse was right: baby girl had decided to wedge all 6 pounds of her body horizontally in the foot of space between my ribs.  Even though it was a moronic reason to go to the hospital, I don't regret it - the pain was truly excruciating, so I'm glad we were able to get it checked out.  Plus she probably wouldn't have decided to move at home; I think she was just showing the medical community what an idiot her mother was. And as they always say during pregnancy: better safe than sorry.

I had my regularly scheduled doctor's appointment this morning, and baby girl is still looking good. No news on her size (the six pound mentioned above is an estimate) since they only measure that every other appointment, but she is still a she and she still has hair (possibly curly?? The tech asked if either of us had curly hair...hmmm).

I think these were from last week, so 33 weeks. Ish.


Here are the most recent, from a wedding on Sunday.  Hello, boobs. You're looking mighty fantastic. And a rare appearance from Chris, my baby daddy! The oft-mentioned but rarely seen love of my life.


And here is what happens when you try to take a picture of yourself and your belly classic MySpace 16 and Pregnant style: you can't fit your entire friggin belly into the frame because it's so huge.

OH. And. AND. I have to share. The cutest ever on-sale-Old-Navy-impulse-purchase EVER.  It was actually in the baby boy section, but hello? Pandas and green? Totally gender neutral.  (Please don't tell her it came from the boy's section; she's going to have enough gender confusion as it is thanks to her boy's room [according to Chris] SO NOT A BOY'S ROOM [according to me]).  She might wear this every day until she grows out of it or it dissolves off of her body from caked-on baby puke.