No, Really, Don't Make Me Laugh

My incision hurts when I laugh that hard.

Two weeks ago I had my first post partum OB appointment. It was with the doctor who assisted in my C-section. I get the sense that she is one of the more senior docs - and perhaps was even a bit insulted that she "assisted" in the surgery while I selected a less senior doc as the primary surgeon. Not sure. Just a hunch.

During the post partum visit, she inspected my incision and said I was recovering right on schedule. Then she said something that made me laugh out loud. I didn't mean to be rude...but...really....

She said, "So have you given any thought to what type of birth control you'd like to use? I suggest the mini pill because it won't interfere with or affect breast feeding."

Yep. I laughed.

Birth control? Is she kidding?

I'll be 44 years old in two weeks. I tried relentlessly to get pregnant since getting married in the fall of 2006. I did get pregnant - twice in 2007 - and within short order miscarried each of them. All the diagnostics, all the exams, all the wands, all the lab results - indicating that my eggs are old, friable, wasted, decrepit, useless little things, if they even exist anymore at all.

And she is worried that I might get pregnant and therefore suggests birth control?

Silly doctor.

All I could muster between guffaws was, "You know this was an ART baby" and she said yes, she knew, but it could happen.

Well, you know what I say? I say that if God now sees fit to grace me with an old fashioned pregnancy, I guess I'll just accept it.

Birth control, smirth control.

And just for the record, it was one year ago today that my DH and I made our first trip to the Clinic to meet the RE and the doctor who would perform the transfer, to get our cycle schedule, and to see photographs of our Baby Bunny's two school-age siblings. One year ago today I began to dream.

Posts at Wordpress

New posts over at my new wordpress site:

http://bwub.wordpress.com

New Post

New post over at my new wordpress site:

http://bwub.wordpress.com

By the way, I apologize if anyone has requested the password for protected posts at my new blog site and I have not yet responded to you. I may have overlooked a few requests in the shuffle. Please let me know and I will get back to you as soon as I can.

TGIM...and...My DH is My Hero

Please check this post over at my new site:

http://bwub.wordpress.com

Thanks!



...

Counting Down

I am double posting today....here and at my new site

www.bwub.wordpress.com

Let the transition begin!
______________________________

Five days and counting!

Actually, it is technically less than five days now.

Holy crap. Is this real?

So, here's a peek at the past few days:

* My Mom.
She is here. Yes, she has driven me nuts on numerous occasions already. It's all about her after all. Since I told her (a few weeks back) that I will be taking 6 months maternity leave and won't be going back to work until September (which she didn't know because she never asked), she decided that if she can't find a house to buy here this week, she'll go spend time with other people in other cities and just come back in September.

That hurt.

I mean, uh, so you don't care that you won't see my baby (yes, your grandson, even if not your flesh and blood) AT ALL until he is 6 months old. I have to wonder if it would be different if the baby had been a girl (her preference).

But she still wanted me to drive her on Friday to go look at a new housing development. Which I did. Even though I have to recline waaay back in the seat to drive and my DH didn't want me to go. And she was rude to the sales lady. And she bitched about 100 things wrong with the development all the way home.

Me + my mom = love/frustration/guilt/anger/annoyance

Yes, still love first, but followed by a whole string of emotions that leave me stressed.

* OB appointment
Friday morning was my last appointment before the big day. It was with the doc who will be doing my C-section. She is soooo reassuring and nice. DH came to the appointment and asked a few questions. We did an u/s and yes, baby is still head up (which I guess I knew). The whole thing is surreal.

*Visits
My DH's buddy stopped by the other day. He and his wife have an 8 year old and a 3 year old. He was politely interested in our plans and asked some questions and offered to give us their 5k jog stroller and travel crib. Cool! A couple of my girlfriends offered to stop by after the baby is born and bring food so we don't have to cook. These are the guests I wouldn't mind coming by in the weeks after we get home. Family/in-laws I think would stress me out. Friends - love!

* Baby Stuff
We bought a baby swing. We put it together this morning. I hated it. I thought it was messed up, the parts didn't fit properly, it seemed unsafe and that's what we get for buying a clearance swing. My DH thought we should put a bag of flour in the seat and try it for a few days. I said flatly "I won't use it." We disassembled it, took it back and bought a different one. :) He has indulged my every whim. What a great guy.

We went to Ikea today and bought a bookshelf thingy (I LOVED the one An Offering of Love got for her nursery, but our little room is too small for that size and we had to get the mini one). Anyway, my DH offered to go by himself to get it, but I was determined to go and walk through the store. I did fine - for a while. Then I got tired and pinchy and owie and the baby and the fluid were sloshing and weighing down in my pelvis and....I was about done. It was all I could manage to get out to the car. Funny how my mind is still in "go go go" mode but the body just won't comply.

My glider was delivered! I love it!

* Plan for the week
My DH is worried that my water will break when he is not here (I think it was today's Ikea trip that scared him). He is planning to work at home all week so he'll be here. He is kind of in panic mode, and I'm feeling calm and sure that things will go just fine.

Tuesday morning we take my mom to the airport. DH was going to take her, but since my water might break while he's gone (hee hee hee), he wants me to come with him. I just laugh because his attentiveness is really quite cute.

Wednesday is our last day home. Alone.

Thursday I become a mom.
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Moving to New Blog

As I will be commencing the newest chapter of my life in just 8 days (parenthood!), I thought it appropriate that I also begin a new chapter of blogging.

Following in the footsteps of An Offering of Love and Cindyhoo2 at Bang Head Here - Annex, I have decided to move to a new Wordpress webpage. I've begun the set up, but am just learning how Wordpress functions...and it's taking me a while.

You can find my alter-ego here:

BWUB +1 at bwub.wordpress.com


It's sort of up and running now, and all of my current BWUB posts/comments have been imported.

Wordpress allows for password protected posts, which I've decided I want to do with some of my posts...at least for a while...after the baby is born.

There may be some personal information/pictures/stories I won't feel comfortable sharing with the entire world, only with those people I've come to trust and with whom I've developed (or will develop) a mutual blogging/commenting relationship. I would just ask that you keep confidential (from the blog world) anything I post in a protected post.

If you'd like the password and future blog site info, email me at bestwhenusedby@gmail.com or leave a comment here with your email address, and if I am comfortable sending you the info, I'll do so.

Of course most of my posts will be public, and I'll hang out here at my blogger site for a while to make sure I don't lose anyone, but I wanted to give everyone a heads-up.

Love you all and hope to see you over at Wordpress!

Eight Pounds of Courage...and...Women ARE the Stronger Sex

First of all, thank you everyone for your support and encouragement in response to my last post.

I talked to my mom on the phone today and when she began to launch into a negative, complaining tirade, I interrupted and told her that I really want this final week and a half of my pregnancy to be as relaxing and calm as possible, and so I asked her to please not dump her stress on me.

I think she heard me. (!)

Today I drove downtown and had lunch with my good friend whose husband who was diagnosed 15 months ago with the same kind of brain tumor as Ted K. Ennedy had. Her husband has been through a lot, but he is still alive and they are still fighting!

Anyway, my friend works at the law firm where I used to work and from where I was laid off in November 2008. Usually we meet off-site for lunch as I have no interest in running into any of the former attorneys I worked with (I thought they could have handled my lay-off a bit better, let's just say).

But today I found myself in the lobby of the building. And wouldn't you know it...I ran into 2 partners, 2 associates and 2 secretaries of the firm! Well, whaddya going to do? So I smiled my brightest smile, perked up, tried to look adorably pregnant in a clingy, long black t-shirt and jeans, and gushed about how happy I am and how wonderful my life is.

And they were all gracious, congratulatory and kind.

I chalked up my bravery to the Eight Pounds of Courage growing in my belly!

In other news, I came home from lunch and there was a call that the baby's dresser/changing station had arrived and was available for pick-up! The crib won't be available till around April, but I was excited that the dresser was here!

I called DH at work to see if he would go pick it up (I want it now, Now, NOW!) and he hemmed and hawed and said maybe over the weekend, if it's not raining.

:(

It's going to rain and I don't want to wait till the weekend. [insert whine here]

Men.

So I called the woman who left the message, asked her to get me the dimensions of the box, grabbed a measuring tape, measured the interior of my little station wagon, and realized the box just might fit! I drove to the warehouse where the men loaded it in (perfect fit!) and brought it home. It's still in the back of my car, in the garage, waiting for my DH to come home and unload it.

If you want something done NOW, you have to do it yourself!

So this past weekend I wrote out dozens of baby gift thank you notes, went to the post office today to mail them, checked in with my office email (yeah, I know, but I couldn't help myself), met my friend for lunch, bravely faced former co-workers, made a run to Target to stock up on TP, paper towels, laundry deterg, etc before the baby comes, and picked up the baby's dresser.

Ten days before giving birth.

Anyone who says women are not the stronger sex doesn't know shite from onions (I stole that phrase from EB).

So much for R&R.
...

Alternating Joy and Frustration

I promised pictures...and they're in here. I had a lot to post about though, so grab the safety rail and hang on.

It has been quite a week, full of highs and lows. Which can take a serious toll on a woman in her 9th month of pregnancy.

First, the highs:

--- My final day of work was Wednesday. I didn't get much actual work done on Tuesday or Wednesday, as I was trying to tie up loose ends, go over things with my secretary, finish up or pass off projects, etc. Everyone was very sweet and I got a lot of hugs as I left on Wednesday. Bittersweet, since I really enjoy my colleagues.

--- Thursday morning I had an OB appointment with the doctor who will assist the surgeon in my C-section. All remains well with baby boy. I got to ask my surgery questions and I feel comfortable with the process.

--- Thursday afternoon I went through the tons of gifts we received at the two showers last weekend. I sorted, hung, folded and stashed. I took several duplicate items back to the store and bought some other items we would need.

--- My DH and I are counting down the days. We say, "X more days to Baby BWUB!" Today I said, "Twelve more days to Baby BWUB Eve!" It's fun to know he is so close!

--- The baby is really responsive to my touch these days, and I just love the little intimate moments we have together, despite the fact that I am enormously uncomfortable most of the time.

--- This weekend we will buy the remaining items from our registry that we will need. Even if there is no crib or dresser yet, we will be ready!

--- Here are some pics: diaper cake, baby things, my gigantic belly














Now for the downs/frustrations:

--- My DH has been super, supportive and helpful most of the time. But we had a little tete-a-tete over some financial paperwork that pissed me off and drove me to tears...30 minutes before I was to leave for last Saturday's baby shower. Of course I am extra prone to tears right now anyway (kooky hormones), but when one person (me) invested the better part of a year pursuing, handling and following up on a matter that involves Giant Financial Corporation, it really pisses said person off when the other person (DH), who did none of the work or time investment, is now uncomfortable with the current status of the matter and wants to simply give in to Giant Financial Corporation. Fortunately, we've found common ground upon which to deal with the matter that appeases us both, but I went to my baby shower with puffy, post-crying eyes.

--- DH also promised to do the taxes this year. Unable to wait for Mr. Procrastinator, I've done 98% of the background work - gathered, organized and added receipts, did all the Schedule A math and even penciled in a 1040. Yet weeks later, here it all still sits. And we'll be getting a nice refund! Grrrr.

--- My mother has drained me dry and gnawed on my last raw nerve. I don't think I have posted much about this because, well, I have a baby coming and the baby has (fortunately) absorbed most of my attention. Here is the bullet list short version:

* My mom lives in another state, is about to retire and she planned (before she knew I was pregnant) to move here to be closer to me.

* When she learned I was pregnant and due in March, she decided to put her house on the market with the goal of selling and moving here around May.

* Too cheap to use a real estate agent, she put her home on the market in a "for sale by owner" manner. She doesn't exactly know what she's doing, so she called me several times over the past month or so for advice (I used to practice real estate law). I did what I could from here, but never saw or read actual documents.

* She and a buyer signed a contract, with escrow set to close the first week of April. Mom didn't closely read every line of the contract carefully enough and is now flipped out angry over some HOA items she might be responsible for.

* Meanwhile, she has consulted with a local real estate agent here, and has done some online research herself to find a house to buy in my city. She is extremely picky (which is fine), but her expectations and reality are not lining up well. This is causing her much frustration. Plus, the agent is not doing everything my mom wants, causing more frustration.

* Mom will be here next week, from the 3rd to the 9th (yes, up until 2 days before my scheduled C-section) to be carted around by real estate agent to look at homes. Except real estate agent hasn't provided her with enough homes that meet mom's criteria (more frustration). And I'm not sure just how much time Mom expects me to spend with her while she is here....but I can't walk fast or far these days, can't spend all day taking her to see possible homes, and wanted to spend this time nesting and relaxing before baby comes.

Bottom line: My mom is very stressed and frustrated, and every communication I have with her consists of my getting about 5 minutes to talk, and the rest of the time (oh, like nearly 2 hours on the telephone each time) is her ranting, complaining, bitching, and spewing negativity about every little thing that isn't going her way. Honestly, it wipes me out. This isn't anything new - it's how she is.

She rarely stops to ask how I am doing, and so it came as a great surprise to her when I told her last night that I am taking 6 months of maternity leave and so I won't be returning to work until approximately September.

Her response: Gee, if I had known that, I wouldn't have hurried up to sell my house so fast.

My (silent) reaction: Gee, if you gave me a minute to talk or asked about my life, you might have known.

I'd really like to say, "Mom, I love you, but I can't handle the constant stream of negativity, so please don't unload it on me anymore."

But you know, everyone needs to vent...and I'm the only person she's got. I didn't ask her to move here, and I surely didn't ask her to be desperately searching to buy a house the week before I'm due to deliver. But here she is, trying to move to a new state, and of course she needs some help and support. I get that. With a baby coming in a mere 13 days, I sure would like to enjoy this time and not feel pressured to make sure everything in her life works out to her satisfaction.

Sigh.

My DH and I will do what we can to help my mom, but I also intend to be selfish to some extent, taking care of myself and my baby, and not letting these precious last few weeks slip into the Negative Vortex that is my mother.

If you've made it through this whole post, thanks...I appreciate the shoulder.
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Weekend Happenings

The weekend went quickly.

----Saturday: Baby Shower #2----

This shower was largely attended by former co-workers from the law firm where I worked. My MIL, Wacky P and the 6-year old daughter also came to this one. We had brunch and mimosas (I had 1/2 glass), which were delicious. Everyone was very generous with the gifts, and I was excited to get some of the "necessities" from my registry as opposed to the cute-but-already-have-too-many newborn outfits and blankets (although there were still several of those).

There were quite a few guests, so I was able to avoid getting cornered by MIL and Wacky P most of the time, at least until the bulk of the festivities were over. Of course Wacky P couldn't hold back forever, and at some point she had to get in my face. She asked if we were going to use a diaper service, because she used a diaper service, and it was the best way to go, and they can provide different size diapers and how fluffy and soft the diapers are and ....blah, blah, blah.

She knows my plan is to start with disposables until life settles down a bit and then try out the B.umGe.nius brand cloth diapers. But she had to get in my face about it.

Oh, and when the hostess offered the guests coffee to go with the cake, Wacky P's daughter started whining that sheeee wanted coffee. At first the hostess tried to play if off with a sweetly said: "What? Noooo, kids don't drink coffee." But when Girl persisted, the hostess finally said, "Well, not at my house. Kids don't get to drink coffee here" and she turned and left Girl standing there.

I grinned. Girl usually isn't told "no" so bluntly.

One of the best things about that shower was that when it was winding down, a friend of mine who has a 3 year old and a 9 month old came and asked whether I would be interested in any of her hand-me-downs....she said she wasn't sure if I'd be insulted at the offer.

Are you kidding? I jumped enthusiastically at the chance to take her Bumbo seat and tray, breast pump, second car seat, etc. Useful things! Woohoo!

----Sunday Morning: Visit from MIL and Wacky P----

Yep. They came over to visit. This time Wacky P asked if we had chosen a pediatrician. I said yes, and named the doctor. BTW, this doc is (1) someone I worked with at the hospital years ago, and (2) the pediatrician of one of my OB's children. But kooky Wacky P had to tell me how she used this pediatrician for Girl several years ago, and proceeded to criticize the doctor's office, nurses and practice.

This is the pattern. One: She asks your choice/opinion. Two: Whatever your choice/opinion is, she will criticize it and tell you why her choice/opinion is superior.

I ignore her.

----Sunday Afternoon: Baby Shower #3----

This shower included about 10 of my close friends whom I've know for about 20 years. As in, the hostess wore sweats with her hair up in a clip because we are like family. It was very relaxed, we laughed, we teased, we got caught up on each other's lives. Along with the requisite baby clothes and blankets (more!), toys, gift cards and other items, they got me my stroller and a fabulous rocker/bouncy seat that converts to a toddler seat. Cool.

The most memorable gift and moment was when I opened the last gift. It was from the daughter of my friend (who was my matron of honor). Her daughter will be 15 years old next week, but she is a really sweet, innocent, kind girl (I guess I say that because so many teens barely talk to their parents, much less their parents' friends). Anyway, I opened the gift and it was a framed poem, written by Teen Girl. There was a handwritten note from her on the back. The poem welcomed our little baby boy, both into the world and into the lives of my DH and I, and into the lives of our group of friends.

I knew I wouldn't be able to read it out loud, but I felt it was called for, because of the personal nature of the gift. So I handed it to my friend to my right and said, "Ann, will you please read it...I'll cry if I try to read it."

Ann began to read. There was a line about Mommy and Daddy...forever taking care...baby boy....

Okay, I lost it. My nose wrinkled and I knew. I started to cry. Then sob. My friends started laughing at me (which was completely expected since we are so close) and then I started laughing too. I mean, I was both crying/sobbing (hard!) and laughing (just as hard) at the same time! It was the strangest sensation. And when I looked up, two or three of my friends were crying too! We laughed and cried and in fact, Ann had to hand the poem over to someone else to finish reading! Poor Teen Girl stared at me, looking a bit stunned. Later she told me, "Auntie BWUB, I never saw you like that before and it kind of scared me." I reassured her it was hormones and I was okay and that I LOVED LOVED LOVED her present.

----Monday (today)----

I broke the news to my boss (and her boss) that my C-section is scheduled and that my last day of work will be Wednesday...as in two days from now!

Next post: Photos.
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He Almost Had Us Fooled

I had my OB appointment this morning.

As I was led into the exam room, I noticed they had not put the u/s machine in there. I reminded the assistant that we needed to check my baby's position and would need the u/s. She brushed me off with a "Well, let's see what the doctor thinks."

Doctor comes in. The practice I go to has seven OBs. Five are women (which I love) but I had not previously met today's doctor. She measured my belly and used the doppler to check baby's heart beat. All is well.

She wanted to do a pants-off exam. She took a culture (Beta strep? Maybe.) And she checked my cervix. One centimeter dilated. Honestly, the manual exam wasn't bad at all.

Then she said, "I feel his head. He must have turned."

Me: "That's fantastic! What great news!....but....can we do an u/s just to verify? It would give me some comfort."

Doctor: "Sure."

She left the room to get the machine. I got dressed and climbed back up on the table. I rubbed my belly, cooing to baby boy that he was such a good baby for turning. Doc came back in, flipped the switch, booted up the machine, gooed my belly...

And?
.
.
.
.
Baby BWUB must have a round, hairy butt that feels like a tiny baby head.

He is still breech.

The doctor said we should schedule the C-section. So now my boy has a birth date. March 11th. I got to choose the surgeon, which is nice.

My husband is really excited that we have something certain to look forward to. In just 20 days. He said "We have to get our nest all ready!" Yes, honey, we do.

And even though this is not what I would have chosen, if the choice had been mine, I will make the best of it. And in the end, I'm just looking forward to finally meeting my sweet little baby boy.
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Snapshot

With less than 30 days to go until my due date, here is a snapshot of my world at the moment:

* Physically: Belly, tight. Back, achy. Chest pains (?) when I lie on my left side. My belly button is really tiny, but still an innie! Maternity pants barely fit anymore. And now, nightly Braxton-Hicks contractions, I think. They started this past weekend and are quite uncomfortable.

* Sleep: Not much.

* Mental status: Positive. Happy and excited, regardless of anything else.

* Work: Ready to be done and start my leave. I have a colleague who makes me laugh because every day she checks on me and tells me her most recent plan for who will drive me to the hospital, and who will sit in the back seat and hold my hand, if I go into labor while at work. I must confess I will miss her and some of the others while I'm gone.

* Baby: Wiggling, rolling, hiccuping and growing. Yesterday I was almost convinced that he had turned to head-down position. Today, not so sure.

* Next OB appointment: Friday morning.

* Baby's room: Ugh. Shipment of crib is delayed at least another 8 weeks. That's 8 weeks from now. Dresser/changing table should arrive in 3 weeks. Hopefully. Good thing we got the convertible crib...it may just be here by the time he goes to college!

* Husband: Doting. Particularly in light of probable B-H contractions. Calls me twice a day to check on me. Happy that my mat leave will begin soon. He is even protective against my MIL and Wacky P, who wanted us to come to Wacky P's for dinner Friday night. Nights are not my best time, and the last thing he thinks I should suffer through right now is having to sit for hours at Wacky P's house, being hassled by her in-your-face, without-boundaries, loud, dirty-fingernailed children, and being subjected to incessant questioning by my MIL. Thanks, honey! Instead, MIL and Wacky P will come to our house Sunday morning for coffee (no kids!).

* Presents: One of my sisters, who lives in Texas, sent me a box of really sweet baby presents. Here's one of the items she sent, pastel green and softer than soft!

Thirty Days to Go

Today was a better day.

My rotten neighbor experience the other night paved the way to a crappy day yesterday. I just couldn't shake the funk, and I felt hyper-sensitive to every little thing. I had a little tearful episode and ended up napping much of the day away while my DH mowed the lawn, did some grocery shopping and made dinner. He even brought me home some mint chocolate chip ice cream and a pot of beautiful pink azaleas.

My mental breakdowns always bring out the best in my husband. :)

Today he went to work while I got to stay home (President's Day holiday). The sun was shining. It was warm enough to be outside in a t-shirt. The newly mowed lawn was green and fresh smelling. I pulled out a patio chair and just enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun while the dogs sniffed and ran about in the yard.

It was heaven.

In the afternoon I ran some quick errands, did some laundry and began gathering items (finally) to be packed into the suitcase for our trip to the hospital.

I can definitely tell that the baby is growing. I am uncomfortable more often than not. I am out of breath most of the time. I move very slowly, and can feel the baby waaaaay down in my pelvis if I move too fast. I can't get comfortable sitting, reclining, lying down or standing. The neighbor was quiet last night, but I still didn't get much sleep. Yup - I'm entering the final 30 days.

This upcoming weekend I have two baby showers. After that we will have to review the registries and go purchase the necessities we still need. That will probably take another week. Then we will be in the home stretch. Time to hunker down, rest, and wait.
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Neighbor Rant

Usually I can blow off bothersome neighbors with a dismissive whatever.

But, crap, after last night, I'm thinking about what the heck things are going to be like around here in 2 months when I have a newborn to care for.

We live in an older, established neighborhood. Narrow streets and property lots that are much less than 1/4 acre in size. Several months ago, a group of young people moved into the house directly across the street from us. I haven't actually met them, I am not sure how many of them there are, but I can say that every stinking day there are are 4 to 6 vehicles parked between their driveway, in front of their house and in front of our house.

I hate looking out my window every day to see vehicles parked on the street in front of my house. Pet peeve.

So last night, around 2:30 a.m., slamming car doors and loud voices woke up my dogs, who immediately begin barking. I lurched into a sitting position - which is not easy given my large belly protrusion. I was trying to shush my dogs as the voices outside - probably less than 100 feet from my window, shout and carry on. More car door slamming. Then, a siren? I thought, oh, cool, cops? Arriving to give them citations for disturbing my peace?

But no....those f***ing idiots have some sort of siren installed in their truck - that was parked outside my bedroom window - and a bullhorn to boot! Oh yes, a bullhorn. Loud siren whirrs were followed by girls' voices, which suddenly boomed forth on a loudspeaker. Cursing at someone. Drunk. More slamming doors.

You know, part of me wanted to march outside and ask WTF is wrong with them. But I don't want my tires slashed, or a drunken fist in my face (or worse, in my belly). Who knows what people are capable of.

I peeked out the window, debating whether to call the police myself, as two more people got into the truck. And then they drove off. I finally got back to sleep.

Two hours later, at 4:30 a.m., more car door slamming, more voices, then silence. My dogs barked again. I lurched upright again. These people come and go at all hours. They party, they have company, they carry on and they wake me up.

I am envisioning their noise, plus my barking dogs waking up my newborn who just fed and went back to sleep. I am envisioning getting no sleep whatsoever. Summer is coming - warm weather and people wanting to be outside more often. Parties and drinking. I am envisioning leaving piles of dog poop on their windshields, front door step and even throwing loads of it up onto their roof. In the summer. I am envisioning blasting some Ne il D iamond music outside thier bedroom windows at, say, 8 am, when surely they are deep in slumber.

This morning I told my husband we may need to move the bedroom to the room at the back of the house - even though that room is way to small and is hot in the summer.

I am fed up, sleep deprived and angry.
...

On the Horizon

Thanks for all the flattering comments. I swear, though, my belly feels so big, as though it will pop like a balloon at any moment!

So, yes, indeed, my due date and the arrival of Baby Boy BWUB are on the horizon.

As I mentioned, he is still breech and my DH is now convinced that a C-section will be on tap for the birth. He is quietly delighted about it. Of course we both prefer a non-surgical birth, but here's what he said that made me realize he's pretty happy at the idea of a C-section:

"So, if we have a C-section then we'll get to skip the part where I would have to time the contractions at home, racing to the hospital, all of that breathing stuff and the slow dance [this is his term for his labor coaching responsibilities] and we'll just go in and have the baby?"

Well, yes, dear, I guess we would skip the major labor chapter of childbirth and move right to arrival of the baby.

However.

I had to remind him that if I have a C-section, my recovery will take longer. I won't be able to drive for at least 2 weeks. I won't be able to pick up anything heavier than the baby for a while.

Please, those of you who have had C-sections feel free to chime in!

I will be in more pain and will need more help for several weeks after we come home. All of which means he will have more post-natal responsibility to take care of things that I won't be able to.

He seemed readily amenable to all of this.

Otherwise, things are pretty quiet here. My next OB appointment is next Friday. I'll be 36 weeks by then. Although I'm sure baby boy is still breech, he is wiggling and poking and stretching regularly (and has hiccups 2 or 3 times each day!) so I'm content that he is okay.

I still plan to work through the end of February (just 2 more weeks!) but I am SO looking forward to having a little time to relax, rest, and prepare for the momentous occasion.
...

34 Weeks

Well, that's me.

Yesterday I had an OB appointment. Baby BWUB is still breech. The doctor said there is still time for him to turn, but it is likely that he will remain breech. If so, my two options are manual version or C-section. As I posted previously, I will opt for the C-section.

Now that the taste of a possible C-section is becoming more of a reality, and visions of labor and vaginal birth are dwindling like a fading dream, I'm a bit disappointed. But as I've always maintained, the most important thing to me is getting the baby here alive and healthy.

If I have to go the C-section route, the doctor said they like to deliver between the 39th and 40th week. I thought 3/10/10 might be a good birth date. Unless, of course, I go into labor before then, in which case, the baby will decide his own birth date!

I also asked the doctor when I ought to quit working (after all, I am becoming more and more uncomfortable and there is no place to lie down in the office). She said in a very matter-of-fact way that in California, pregnant women automatically qualify for disability leave as of the 36th week of pregnancy. Therefore, she said, when I have my next appointment (at 36 weeks) I can decide what I'd like to do and the doctor's office will complete and file the paper work.

Cool.

But I think I'll do the extra week and finish out February.

We're still waiting for delivery of the crib and dresser. The earliest we might expect them is the first of March! Who knows. The baby may very well arrive before his furniture! Just in case, I've been washing clothes and putting them in his closet. It's not very neat since everything has to be jammed in there until we get the furniture, but even in its chaotic state, I love looking at and touching all the sweet things.


...

Shower #1

Today was the baby shower put on by my current co-workers.

I must say, it was quite sweet. I've known these people only 6 months, yet there they were, showering me with cake and presents and "It's a Boy!" decorations.

I got to the third or fourth gift, and as I opened the gift to find a precious little bib and soft matching blanket....yup....I lost it. In front of all my co-workers, male and female alike, with my boss to my immediate right, I started to cry.

Then I laugh/cried. Then I was better. There was a chorus of "Oh, it's okay, it's just your hormones" ringing in my ears. No one batted an eyelash. I was a bit embarrassed, but the moment just got the better of me.

I am not used to being the center of attention, so it felt a little awkward to rip open gift after gift as they were set before me. And it was even more awkward when I received three booster seats (how did that happen?) - especially since the third one I opened was from my boss (I think she felt a little disappointed).

Anyway, I noticed that only one of the guys brought a gift (although they all showed up to eat cake), and I later chuckled with one of my girlfriends about "how guys are." When I got home, a package had been delivered by UPS. I opened it to find one of the cutest, sweetest blankets from my gift registry....from two of the guys in my office! That'll show me!

Tonight, after eating a piece of leftover cake from my party, I sat here watching Baby BWUB roll around in response to the sugar. My DH's eyes got huge when he saw the lump in my belly rise, fall and roll about.

I know that I am very lucky and blessed.
...

Answering Questions

Oh yeah, I'll surely check with my doctor about early leave. I have several important things scheduled for next week, but if I can just finish out the month of February and be done, I would be really happy.

I had a coffee date this morning with a young pregnant woman who works in my building. We ran into each other in the elevator one day and quickly learned that our babies are due only 4 days apart. So we planned a coffee date to engage in some baby chat.

She was such a nice girl, and as it turns out, we have a few things in common: we are both having boys and we live pretty near to each other. I am hopeful that after our babies are born and we are both settled, we can meet for strolls in the park with the kids. We compared notes on morning sickness (she had it, I didn't), maternity leave (she's taking a year - I'm so jealous), and various other things.

I felt a little awkward, though, I have to admit, because she asked me some questions that I didn't really want to answer with the full truth, but did not want to outright lie about either.

First of all, you must realize, she is YOUNG and fertile. She and her husband basically got pregnant on their first try. She was so wide-eyed and innocent and sweet, I couldn't hold my battle scars against her.

Since our babies are due only 4 days apart, she asked me if I know what day I got pregnant. She excitedly told me she is pretty sure it was June 28 for her. Well, um, yeah, I kind of know precisely the day, hour and minute I got pregnant. As in, July 1, 2009, 2:40 p.m. There were 2 doctors, a couple of nurses and some assistants in the room. My husband was off getting a snack at a nearby restaurant.

Ahem.

I just said, "Oh, I guess it had to be end of June or beginning of July."

She asked if we were trying to get pregnant.

"Yes."

It's weird because I'm totally comfortable with all of the hows, whys, wheres and whos of my pregnancy. I'm thrilled with the whole embryo donation/adoption concept. I'm even excited at the thought that my DH and I have no idea what this baby is going to look like. He could just as easily be brunette with brown eyes as he could be blond with blue eyes. Heck, there's even a real chance that he could be a redhead! The donor profiles and pictures of his siblings make any combination a real possibility.

The thing is, it's just not something you launch into with every person you meet or every person with whom you have pregnancy discussions. The whole history and process is complicated, both factually and medically. Not everybody wants to, or is interested in, hearing that. And certainly not everybody needs to know our personal medical history.

So I just play along, answering people's innocent and seemingly general questions as best I can.

Yesterday a female co-worker (who has a 6-year old) came into my office to check on me, see how I am feeling, and offer some advice. At some point she asked how old I am, and when I told her, she leaned over my desk and said very seriously, "Wow, you are almost 44 years old? BWUB, this pregnancy is such a blessing! I mean, to get pregnant at 43, thank God...it's a miracle...really."

"You have no idea" I replied. And I assured her I absolutely do thank God for this miracle.

I'm meeting the young woman again on Thursday for another cup of coffee and to pick up our conversation where we left off. For the time being I'll just answer her questions as best I can.
...

Dreaming of Early Leave

The baby was moving a lot today. It made working uncomfortable. I think he is still breech, and his round little head kept bumping up underneath my ribs. The maternity pants I wore were the kind with the low band - they cut into me, making my discomfort worse. My skin felt so tight it seemed that it might just split open.

Ugh! I longed to be home in my way-too-big sweat pants, lounging on the couch.

My hope is that all this movement means that baby boy is warming up to do his triple-twist-front-flip, landing him squarely head down on top of my cervix.

I really want to be a trooper - showing my bosses that I can work up until the last minute. But secretly I'd LOVE for my doc to insist that I need to stop working sometime sooner. Like at the end of February!

Meanwhile, opposing counsel Mr. Meanie continues his practice of sending me demanding, accusatory, hateful and rude letters. He wrote and sent one to me by fax today, in response to a letter I sent him last Friday. My only consolation is the knowledge that while I was enjoying sunshine and shopping for baby things over the weekend, he was stewing about my letter, researching case law to throw at me, and writing me another hateful letter.

I am nearly giddy at the thought!

But seriously, dealing with him is another reason I'd prefer to go out on mat leave sooner rather than later.

My next OB appointment is this Friday. I'm going to see what my doc has to say.
...

A Day of Sunshine and a Day of Shopping

The sun was shining Saturday. It was the first sunshine we've had in what feels like weeks. It's been nonstop rain or fog until Saturday. And I apologize to those who are buried in snow and/or ice and have no sympathy for me!

My DH and I spent about 4 hours in the yard on Saturday, cleaning up leaves and tree litter from the most recent storms, raking, sweeping, clearing away storm yuk...it was heaven. He even got on a ladder and cleared out the gutters. I LOVE the way the yard looks now. Of course my DH did most of the work, and he usually hates yard work. But he was insistent that I not overdo it, that I rest frequently and that I leave any and all lifting (a rake?) to him. I did prune the roses and sweep a bit.

Mostly I was just glad to feel warm sunshine on my face. Ahhhh.

Today, Sunday, we took a list and went shopping. My DH, as is his tendency to become anxious about things, really wants us to get our hospital bag packed...just in case. Plus, he wants to be sure we have the things we'll need at home, just in case the baby comes early.

I bought myself a pair of pajamas and a nightgown, both with tops that unbutton for ease of breast feeding. I also bought 2 nursing bras, but had to guess at what the right size might be. We got a cute pair of baby shoes that happened to be on sale. And finally, we bought a play yard that doubles as a bassinet.

As we walked through the BRU parking lot, heading into the store, I told my DH that part of me felt scared buying these things. Who did we think we were, buying baby things? I mean, the baby is not here yet. There's a chance....maybe he never will be here. Maybe he'll never come home. I mumbled something about keeping all the receipts.

My DH tried to smooth over what I'd just said by saying that everyone goes through this kind of anxiety. But I told him assuredly - no - it's not the same for everyone. There are people in the world who get pregnant without difficulty, who immediately run out to buy a crib and clothes and blankets, and all while they are announcing the news to everyone they know.

They have no fear. They have no anxiety. The thought simply doesn't enter their minds that something could go wrong.

What lucky people they are.

And chances are, they never have to give their pregnancy a second thought because all goes well.

But that's not me. That's not us. Until this baby is safely in my arms, all in one piece, breathing and squawking and wiggling and looking me in the eye, I won't - I can't - be sure.

We set up the play yard in the baby's room. I put a teddy bear and a blanket in it. Three little toys dangle from the toy bar that arches over top. It's strange to walk by that room and see the play yard, waiting for a baby to occupy it.

Strange, but also beautiful.


...

The Goings On

The case of the Grumpies I had earlier this week have gone away.

Whew. I feel better, although it's been a rough week, and I have a few things on my mind.

Here's a peek:

- One of our dogs contracted kennel cough at the doggie daycare. Poor little boo. Her symptoms (dry, hacking cough and foamy, gooey junk from her mouth) appeared Tuesday. She actually seems better already, but she has to be home at least 10 days.

- Our other dog, out of the blue, decided that peeing in the baby's room would be a good idea. Huh? Anxiety? Jealousy? How can she know when there's nothing in there but a rocking chair?

- My DH emailed me at work today saying the sewer clean-out cap in the yard popped off and there is some "lint" around it. I told him it isn't lint but TP (sorry, gross, I know). Plumber comes tomorrow morning. Hopefully it won't need anything more than a cleanout. My DH is worried that all the rain has caused the soil to become saturated and heavy - and the old orangeburg pipes collapsed. That could be expensive.

- The horrible opposing counsel (Mr. Meanie) in the complex litigation case I'm working on is pushing my buttons. The only good thing is that, apparently, I'm pushing his, too. He sent me several "nastygrams" recently - demeaning, demanding, arrogant letters. It's been awful. Now, pursuant to a judge's order, I have to have a telephone conference 2 weeks from now with Mr. Meanie, which is likely to last the better part of a day, if not more. Ug. I'm already anticipating his loud, rude, bullying, interrupting, arrogant demeanor. It won't be fun.

- I spoke this week with the OB doc who sent me to the hospital last week for monitoring. I basically demanded to have U/S's at my appointments from now on to check the position of the baby. She was a bit hesitant at first, saying they normally wouldn't bother to check until 37 weeks, and if the baby was still breach then they would consider the external, manual version (is that the right term?). But I was insistent, and she finally relented. I'll be getting quick u/s's.

But here's the kicker: I also expressed concern about the baby possibly turning into the cord. As in, getting the cord wrapped around his neck - whether as a result of turning on his own or as a result of manual version. She said that they do not check the cord position and that approximately 30% of babies are born with the cord around their necks.

What?! Is this true?

She said they are only concerned about the cord if the baby is breech because the cord could slip through ahead of the baby's bottom.

Yup. Not liking this a bit. Well, I will say this (at the risk of being flogged by nazi natural birth women): if the baby is breech and doesn't turn on his own, there is no way I will put him at any risk whatsoever by having doctors manually mash my belly, shoving the baby, cord and placenta around, in an effort to turn him just so that I can push him out my vagina. Hell no. I'll order up a C-section (yeah, yeah, I know that C-sections are not without risks of their own) and deal with it.
...

Whine Fest

I'm cranky. Cranky and crabby.

What's up with that? Do pregnancy hormones kick in differently at this point? I was pretty even keeled most of the past 32 weeks. At least I think I was.

Over the weekend I got emotional over silly little things. I knew they were silly as I stood in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror, sobbing. I just felt like I needed to cry.

Then I felt really crabby Sunday evening when, after having 2 beers with lunch, my DH decided to keep drinking for the rest of the afternoon/evening. He wasn't bombed - he paced himself - but I could tell he had a nice buzz going for the rest of the day, and his stupid buzzed comments/questions/behavior made me feel angry. I left the room in silence and went to find something to do alone.

I was cranky all day today. I got every red light on the way to the office, I gave myself a nice paper cut, and I felt irritable when a meeting lasted, for what I felt was, way too long. My patience felt short with my co-workers.

Physically, I am becoming a bit more uncomfortable. Of course this is to be expected. I'm getting less sleep, I'm becoming more short of breath, and I can feel and hear my heart beat (from the increased blood volume, I presume), which is a bit unnerving sometimes. And, it goes without saying, that my back aches and my belly feels stretched.

Looking for the silver lining, baby boy is moving with great vigor today. I feel good about him, even if he is breech. I've been open to the possibility of a C-section all along, and although it's not what I want, the thought doesn't upset me. Safety...all I want is his safety and well being.

So the bottom line is this: nothing is horrible, things are normal, but I feel like I want to lie down and take a nap and not have anyone bug me about anything...for, oh, the next 7 weeks or so.

Is this the result of hormones? I don't like feeling this way, and rationally, I know that I have nothing to feel crabby about.
...

Talk to the Hand

After our bit of excitement at the hospital on Thursday, I was looking forward to our 3D/4D ultrasound scheduled for Friday. We drifted into the office of this place with great anticipation and excitement.

The waiting room was rather busy. We signed in, paid the fee and waited our turn. Finally my DH and I were led back to the dimly lit room. I was ushered onto a bed, got set up and the tech came in. I turned to look at the monitor as he gelled my belly and began the u/s.

Well, Baby Boy BWUB was having none of it. Hand in front of his face, fingers splayed, he hid from us like a celebrity from the paparazzi.

The tech flipped the 3D switch so we could see, and all that was visible of the baby's face was the hairline, the forehead and a big hand.

Talk to the hand, mama.

The tech had me turn on my side (no change) and then had us go walk around for 10 minutes, I ate some crackers, I even climbed some stairs, all in an effort to get Baby BWUB to move. We returned to the office and tried again.

Nope.

The tech said that with a breech baby, very often the hands are up by the face. He asked when my next OB appointment was, and said that if the baby turns head-down, we should call them and they'll get us in right away to try again.

They refunded our money and we left without pictures or DVD.

Poo.

In other news, my DH really wanted me to invite his mom and Wacky P to one of my baby showers. Well, I understand and agreed to do so, particularly since I got to pick which shower to invite them to (planning for the least amount of inter-activity). I needed their email addresses as this shower was by e-vite, and asked my DH to call his mom and sister to get their email addresses.

He called his mom, but he suggested I call Wacky P, saying that she'd really appreciate it if I called to invite her to my shower. I basically told him no way. I said, "You just don't want to have to call her either, but I'm not calling her." So he did it. :)

I heard him in the other room while he was on the phone with her - trying to answer her questions, defending some of our decisions, explaining others, and saying repeatedly, "Oh, I don't know, I'll have to ask BWUB about that."

Thank God it wasn't me. Nonstop questions and assvice.

Today we are going out to buy some baby supplies. Just a few essentials to have on hand "just in case." I'm making a list of things to pack for the big trip to the hospital. And, with loads of help from StillHopeful, I am putting together lists of what we need and what's left to do.

Mostly, I'm just trying to make it from day to day, while hoping and praying constantly that when the day comes, the baby arrives safely.
...

How to Win an Impromptu Trip to the Hospital

I had a regularly scheduled OB appointment today. I didn't even mention it in my last post because typically these days, the OB appointments last all of 5 minutes. If I have nothing to report and the baby's heartbeat is fine, it's an in-and-out kind of visit.

Today was different.

Today I told the doctor that the baby has been super active the past 2 weeks, like nearly non-stop wiggles, rolls, kicks, etc, but yesterday and today I've noticed much less frequent movement. One kick and then nothing for several hours.

She turned to me and said, "That just earned you a trip to the hospital." I was a bit stunned. She was very kind and reassuring and said it's probably nothing, but when there is a noticeable change, they like to double check things to be sure.

Well, whatever is best for the baby is what I will do. So, okay.

She was not concerned about my shortness of breath (normal), occasional belly-gripping sensations that occur once or twice a day and which stop me in my tracks for a few seconds (likely a contraction, but the irregularity makes them non-worrisome) or the tender spot on one side of my belly.

She measured my uterus and said it was measuring a bit small for the baby's gestational age, so while I was at the hospital, I would also get an ultrasound to measure the baby. She remarked that my uterus and blood vessels are 43 years old, regardless of how old the egg donor was (bravo to this doctor, who is the only one to have looked at my chart, realizing that this was a donor embryo before I had to speak up and tell them). Anyway, "old" blood vessels and uterus may be somewhat compromised in delivering blood and nutrients to the baby - so it was worth having a look.

Hey, you don't have to hard sell me on getting an ultrasound or any testing to be sure the baby is fine.

She was very patient and kind and took her time with me, which I appreciated. She told me to go straight to the hospital and she would call them to let them know I was coming. Of course I called my DH so he could meet me there.

I wasn't panicked, but, you know, there was that familiar twinge of worry rising in my throat.

At the hospital they hooked me up to two belly monitors - one to measure contractions and one to measure the baby's movements and heart beat.

Well that little tyke! He's apparently a show off, and must have been insulted that I tattled on him for not moving so much yesterday and today. Once on the monitors, he began his gymnastics routine with a double back handspring! He went on to wiggle and kick nearly the whole time.

Once I was hooked up and the nurse took my medical history, she pulled the curtain and left the room. Laying there, I realized I had my camera in my purse! Hey, what the heck, it's a record of my pregnancy journey.



I was monitored for 20 or 30 minutes, and just as my DH arrived, the nurse was ready to take me off the monitors and send me for the ultrasound. DH of course came in quite worried. But so far, the news was all good.

I did not get to see the monitor during most of the ultrasound. But what I could see on the screen was the little window where the measurement numbers popped up. So as the tech measured the head circumference, belly circumference, femur length, etc, I could at least see the translation of those measurements into gestational age.

She measured everything twice.

Then she gave us a little report. She said, "Huh. Well, I don't know why they think he's measuring small, because each of his measurements - which I did twice - are actually ahead of your 32 weeks by about 2 weeks." She said that there is a 2-week margin of error, but that means that at worst, the baby is right on target.

The amniotic fluid measurement was 13.8 (they want to see 10 or higher) and she estimated his weight at 5 pounds, 8 ounces (with a 13 ounce margin of error)! Wow!

The only thing that surprised me (and that I did not like so much) is that the baby is breach. Head up, butt down. What? I could have sworn he was head down the past few weeks. I mentioned that to the nurse and she said that it's possible the baby turned in the past few days from head down to head up, and perhaps that's why I have noticed less movement. Not that you wouldn't feel movement with the baby head up, but just that it's a change for me, and perhaps the new orientation of his body causes less sensation when he moves. Hm.

I had to be put back on the belly monitors for 10 minutes more or so, but no contractions registered and his heart beat was great.

With that, they let us go home.

Whew! hank goodness everything turned out to be okay. Good baby. Good, good baby!

Although, if he'd like to do another somersault and return to the head-down position sometime in the next couple of weeks, that would be great.
...

Once Upon a Time...

"...then, suddenly, she found herself face to face with the final 8 weeks of her pregnancy."

At the moment, my life feels like the last chapter of a novel where suddenly everything seems to happen very quickly: loose ends are tied up, outstanding issues are finally explained, mysteries are at last revealed, and....swoosh...you are surprised to find yourself reading the final page of the book.

Which would be incredibly wonderful...if I had more things done, in place, and ready to go.

They're...uh...not.

Baby is definitely doing his part.



I take these belly photos, download them, and I swear, they make me look half-as-big and I look in real life. At least to me! For the last week or so, it has felt like baby boy has been trying to expand his physical boundaries. Push, push, push! Stretch, stretch, stretch! Ow. And he has been exceedingly active.

The result is that I am now moving into the "uncomfortable phase" of my pregnancy. Sleep is a commodity I get little of. Back aches are common. It hurts to bend over or sit up straight for any length of time. And for goodness sakes, he's not even crushing my lungs or karate kicking my ribs! I realize that I probably have it a lot better than many.

Last night after work I attended a breastfeeding class. I learned some things that were quite useful and/or interesting. For example, the foods you eat will flavor the milk. As a result, breastfed babies tend to be less picky eaters as toddlers because they have already experienced varying flavors. Formula-fed babes are used to a single flavor, so may be more picky when they switch to solids. Makes sense, eh?!

So now my DH wants to take more classes. A safety class and a CPR class. Honestly, I'm tired of classes. I particularly don't like night classes after work. I'm tired and uncomfortable and just want to be home, relaxing. I told him I will teach him infant CPR, and he seemed satisfied with that.

What else? Oh, we finally got around to ordering the crib and dresser/changing station only to find that delivery will take a minimum of 6 weeks. Yep. It's my own fault for not taking care of this sooner. But I feel like these pieces are the starting point for the room. Until they are in place I can't really set up much else in there. So....the room is now on hold. Waaah (that was me, whining).

No, I have not yet drafted my maternity leave plan (did any of you mommies write one?), nor have I told my boss that I'd like to take 6 months of leave. Um, I think I'd better get to this soon.

No, we haven't visited daycare facilities either. I know, I know. Waiting lists. There's a day care about a block from my office, so I need to get on the stick and call them. Hopefully my mom will have moved here and will be settled in and ready to take over day care for a while by the time I am ready to go back to work, so it will buy me some time to get a commercial daycare plan in place. Maybe (fingers crossed) we won't need day care until 2011.

No, we don't have a car seat yet. Wacky P wanted to buy us one. Well, okay, thank you very much, but I'd like have it no later than 4 weeks from now. I mean...you've got to have the car seat!

No, we don't have a co-sleeper or bassinet. I think we could pick one up over the weekend.

My three baby showers are scheduled for February 3rd, 20th and 21st. I have this fear that everyone is going to buy clothes (as though the 20-pound box of clothes my mom sent isn't already too much) and my registry lists will be untouched. Which is fine - I mean, nobody owes me a gift in the first place and I am grateful for each person's thoughtfulness....but I'm anxious to go buy everything so that I am sure we have the basics - just in case people would rather spend $20 on clothes than on, say, butt balm.

So...I've got a lot on my mind these days. No wonder I can't sleep! All this swirling in my thoughts before I even get to work. Work?! You mean I'm expected to produce work too?

Well, one fun thing is that this Friday we've schedule a 3D/4D ultrasound. Of course I want to see my little sweet pea - it will have been 2 months since we had a peek in there! - but I also want to see what position he is in.

So, friends, it's a busy time, and there are precious few pages remaining in the pregnancy story of my life. I am so incredibly excited though, to pick up and begin the next story: parenthood!
...

Climb On Board, Honey

Thank you all for the registry advice and suggestions! Based on your thoughts and recommendations, I finally feel like I have a bit of a handle on the issue and have begun the click-and-register process. I must admit, the thought of having those items in our house, and imagining using them, is pretty exciting stuff.

Yesterday my DH and I attended an all-day prenatal class. It addressed the pregnancy, labor, and delivery process and touched briefly on breast feeding, anesthesia and post partum. Overall it was a really good class with a great group of expectant parents and an engaging instructor.

Know what's kind of funny though? hee hee hee.

Several weeks ago when I told my DH that I registered for these classes, he made the off-handed comment that he'd go with me if I wanted, but suggested that he didn't think he'd really be involved in anything (or have to learn anything) until after the baby arrived.

Yesterday's class gave him quite a reality jolt. Goodbye 1950, hello 2010.

The class included a ton of information about the partner's role during labor, delivery and post partum. I honestly think my DH was in shock.

Ohhhhhhh.....the partner can be timing contractions during early labor, can assist mom in focusing, remaining comfortable, providing massage, offering cool (or warm) compresses, and giving lots and lots of verbal support and encouragement. The partner can give guidance in breathing, and of course, help mom in her birthing position (grab that leg, honey).

What? Not just stand by and watch? (hee hee hee....I had lots of silent, to-myself giggles yesterday).

We came home and my DH wanted to get his hands on that reading material and go through it again. There's a lot he has to know, after all (hee hee hee). And he is serious about this.

But really, he was very attentive during the class, I saw him nodding a lot to himself as he took in the information, and I know he wants to do everything he can to help me get through this and to help bring our baby safely into the world.

Everything except pull the baby from my womb, that is.

One of the videos we saw showed the father helping "catch" the baby as it was born, and as the baby was finally free of the mom's body, the father, with a slippery baby in his hands quickly said to the doctor or nurse something like, "Oh, here, get him, I don't want to drop him." My DH was horrified at the thought (remember that initially his hands trembled like a patient with Parkinson's when he had to give me the Delestrogen shots). I assured him he did NOT have to pull the baby from my body. He is so relieved.

Anyway, the bottom line is that the light has finally dawned on him that he has a huge role in all of this. And he wants to be prepared and do his best. Which makes me very happy. He even said something like he realized he will have to help me through most of labor until it's actually time to push.

Oh - one funny thing. He asked me whether I might want to have his sister, Wacky P, there for the birth - to help give comfort and support. I looked at him and said, "Hell no, I can't handle her when I'm half tanked, you think I want her there when I'm giving birth?" He just mumbled an "Oh" and let it go.

Yeah, right, let's all envision this: How about having my mother (giving advice but usually thinking of herself first), Wacky P (with her know-it-all superiority complex) and my MIL (asking me a million questions an hour) in the room while I give birth?

Ha! Heck no. I'd rather give birth by myself in a cornfield. (Yay for 2010 when a woman gets to make choices about what's best for herself during birth!)

So, there is still a lot to do, a lot to prepare for and a lot to think about. But at least I've finally got my DH on board the baby train! Wooo Wooo!
...

Time to Register and Shop...But for What?

Thank you all, for the shoulder to whine on and the pats on the back. My outlook is better today and I'm just moving on and doing what needs to be done.

So the online registry process has begun. I am overwhelmed.

The simplistic me says, hey, all you really, truly need is a baby, a breast, a few diapers, some clothing and a safe place for him to sleep...everything after that is fluff.

But when you go through page after page of stuff, two questions keep coming up:
(1) what DO we really need? and
(2) of those items, which are best/safest?

Any suggestions/recommendations would be most appreciated.

I will share the one fact my research revealed that I found to be crucial. Do NOT use common crib bumpers. A baby old enough to turn over (but not old enough to realize he/she ought to turn back) can land face-first into those soft, plush, fabric-covered bumpers and suffocate. You can buy breathable, mesh bumpers that will keep tiny limbs from falling between crib slats but that will allow your baby to breathe.

I have added to my registry some of my favorite story books, baby music, some infant toys, receiving blankets and bedding. But I am stymied about bottles (glass, plastic, sterilizers, breast milk freezer bags, bottle warmers and so many brands!). When I was a pediatric nurse, this was never an issue. We used the one type of plastic bottle the hospital provided, and there might have been 2 nipple choices. Everything was disposable.

And after the bottle question, my questions, confusion and indecision mushroomed. Is an infant tub a necessity? A baby sling/carrier? There seem to be 8,000 strollers out there with all kinds of bells and whistles.

Wow. Help?
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Not Holding My Breath

Re: my previous post:

Yes, that's grass in the back yard. Not very pretty in winter - brown spots, soggy, etc. We've had bleak weather lately to boot. But having grown up in upstate NY, I just say, "At least you don't have to shovel bleak."

Thanks for the suggestions about skin tags. And I've decided to forgo the wall mural. I liked that "moon outside the open windows" thing, but I realized it's too big for the room.

More recent news:

I looked at my blog ticker and it seems I barely have 2 months to go! Or, as Lorraine, at Elderly Ovary pointed out (after a very scary episode and trip to the hospital), sometimes things happen before you intend.

So, life is getting busy.

I signed up for some prenatal classes and last weekend my DH and I took the maternity ward tour. It didn't amount to much more than walking from L&D to the post partum ward and listening to the super-cheerful guide tell us how the beds worked, where to park and where to enter the hospital when we arrive in labor.

I have spent a ton of time painting. The baby's room walls, the closet, the chair rail, the touch-ups. I have breathed enough paint fumes to last me a long while.

I researched cribs (thanks, An Offering of Love!) and we went shopping to look at a few. I then researched the particular cribs we liked for recalls, safety issues and reviews. We are actually ready to make a purchase!

My co-workers announced that my office baby shower will be February 3rd. I need to go online Friday and get registered for baby things! I need to do a little research and make a list first, since I really have no idea what the important items are (other than the obvious big items - car seat, swing, bouncer, etc).

I have the name of a daycare facility located a few blocks from my office. I have yet to call them, but it's on the list of things to do.

I signed up for a breastfeeding class that I will go to next week.

I spoke with the folks at doggy daycare to let them know my due date and made sure they'll take the dogs when I get admitted to the hospital.

Do you see a pattern here?

Yes, the pattern would be that I am doing everything and my husband has not lifted a finger to help.

Oh, he went with me to the materinty tour and baby furniture store. And he sat next to me while I went online to get a furniture price quote. He emptied the dishwasher the other day and he rolled the garbage can to the curb.

But I feel like this baby is, and has been, my project, start to finish. And I have to admit, it's a little disappointing. I haven't asked him to do much, but one doesn't always want to have to ask.

One wants their partner to notice them swooning from toxic paint fumes and rush in to offer to finish the final two square feet of wall.

One wants to ask their partner if he wouldn't mind spending 5 minutes spray lacquering 4 little pieces of wood trim and get a "Sure, honey" response, instead of "Well, I'm going to be pretty busy today."

One would like if their partner noticed the fact that they spent 5 hours online after work researching baby safety issues, and ask if there are any other issues that he could help research.

One would really like if their partner noticed the gray film attaching itself to the bathtub and offer to scrub it with bleach so that his pregnant wife doesn't have to choose between breathing more fumes and showering amid gray film.

One would faint from shock if their partner actually purchased a baby item on his own. Any item. A single diaper even.

One would be grateful if their partner would, just once, have dinner ready when she got home from work.

You know? One just would hope.

Yeah, I'm a little frustrated tonight. There's a lot to get done and I can see who will have to do it all, plus work full time (and, BTW, the big litigation case did not settle. It's back on.).

Now you know I LOVE the idea of shopping and nesting and preparing for my baby boy's arrival. I even loved the painting although it eventually ceased to be fun and ultimately became tedious. And I know there are women out there who would give their pinky fingers to be in my position. I am eternally grateful for this pregnancy and wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

I just would like to see a smidgen of interest and involvement from my spouse. In the work that it takes to get things ready. I'd like to feel like I was truly half of a partnership preparing to bring a baby into the world. Not a single mom with a roommate in the back of the house, doing whatever it is he does, which inevitably amounts to addressing his own needs.

I'd like, just once, for him to ask me if there is anything he can do to help.

Just once. You know?
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30 Weeks [with update at bottom about wall art]

Welcome newest followers!

I am now 30 weeks pregnant. The time seems to be going by in the wink of an eye.

Today I had an OB appointment. My OB group has 7 docs. Today's visit was with the doctor who first referred my DH and me to an IF clinic 3 years ago (the dreaded OMC, of all places!). It was the first time I'd seen this doc since then. I had a wonderful visit with her.

Baby boy is measuring right on target. My weight gain is currently at 22 pounds. The doc was happy with that. I've been having some low cramping that feels like good ole AF-is-about-to-arrive cramps, but no bleeding. The doctor said this is fairly normal when the baby has turned head down. So she wasn't worried a bit. I often feel like baby boy is huddling low in my pelvis.

I also showed her the "nipple that grew a nipple" which she said is just a skin tag and can be removed after I have the baby (I actually suggested that I might tie a thread around the tag to cut off the blood supply and she said that would be fine - but I should wait till after the baby is born because it'll bleed like crazy during pregnancy).

I met with someone from my office's HR department yesterday to talk about maternity leave. Turns out, I'll be able to receive 50% of my pay for 6 weeks post partum (or 8 weeks in case of C-section). Hey, it's something. My DH and I would like for me to be able to take 6 months off, and I think we'll be able to manage it.

I'm still working on the baby's room. I'm leaning toward staying with the current color scheme. I found a really sweet wall decal. I have not decided on it 100% (good grief - nearly $90!) but I think it is adorable. The first picture is the decal itself and the second is part of the advertisement showing how it would look.




Physically, I feel good for the most part. I often wake up in the morning with a sore back, but it generally feels much better once I am up and about. Although two morning ago I woke up thinking baby boy was trying to kick out my left kidney.

I am a little short of breath with minimal exertion.

I am having to use my left hand (non-dominant) to shave my left leg because I cannot reach the left side of my left leg with my right hand (I have a shaving obsession and cannot go more than 1 day without shaving my legs).

My belly button has become quite tiny.

We are signed up for prenatal classes (at last!) that will take place over the next few weeks.

All in all, it's a really beautiful time in my pregnancy.



--------UPDATE------------
I was so excited about the wall decal I didn't read the description very well. It is not a decal at all. It appears to be more like a wallpaper mural - that has to be pasted to the wall. Hm. I wish it was a decal. The company/website is called "Decorating Heaven" and the page for this particular mural is here http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.decor.net.au/images/rooms/baby-01-07.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.decor.net.au/c/b-and-n/b-n-murals.htm&usg=__khcVYe8yC3Ud7HOm0EnMsSPNW_s=&h=455&w=455&sz=31&hl=en&start=35&sig2=qnKjOU8WVMMPXOZlTrWXfg&tbnid=I0dMjOJx7q5iFM:&tbnh=128&tbnw=128&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dnursery%2Bmurals%26gbv%3D2%26ndsp%3D20%26hl%3Den%26rls%3Dig%26sa%3DN%26start%3D20&ei=lHVFS7fBG5zIMqbJsIcD

Door Number 1, Door Number 2 or Door Number 3?

I have this memory of my Dad taking my two sisters and I to a toy store once. I would guess that I was between 8 and 10 years old. He surprised us by turning into the toy store parking lot, and said each of us could choose a toy (I'm sure he imposed a dollar limit, but I recall it being fairly generous).

My sister M went and found the doll she wanted in no time. Holding the box in her hands she peered at the doll's smiling face through the clear cellophane. My younger sister, T, chose one of those toy sets that included plastic high heels, a bracelet, a necklace and maybe even a ring.

Me? I wandered from aisle to aisle, shelf to shelf. Maybe this? Maybe that? Maybe a game? Maybe a doll? Maybe a stuffed animal? Maybe a card game? I couldn't decide!

There were a thousand choices, and I realized that once I committed to one of them, the remaining options would no longer be available to me. How could I give up on all those possibilities?

So, as long as I did not choose, I could have anything. But once I made a selection, that would be it.

I was stuck in this crazy dilemma. I mean, I was a kid being offered the chance to choose a toy! C'mon! This is what childhood dreams are made of. And yet, as I looked at and considered item after item, possibility after possibility, I began to loathe the idea of sacrificing everything else by choosing one.

My sisters were becoming impatient.

"C'mon BWUB, just pick something!" M whined.

"How about this nice stuffed doggie?" little T suggested, pointing to a very cute stuffed animal.

My eyes grew wider. I was being pressured to choose. They urged me more and more (although my sweet Dad, the most patient man on earth, just waited, following me from aisle to aisle as I tried to decide).

Ultimately, I made the only decision I could.

I turned to my Dad and said quietly, "I don't think I want to choose anything."

"Nothing?" he asked, a bit incredulous.

"No. I don't see anything I want." I replied. Now that wasn't entirely true. I did see things I wanted, I just couldn't bring myself to choose one above the others.

He paid for my sisters' items and we left the store. I remember thinking about it all the way home - the fact that I couldn't bring myself to decide. I swear this is a true story, and I was honestly relieved that I didn't have to choose.

// And so......... //

I'm not sure I like the colors I painted the baby's room. Blue and yellow. I'm not sure they are the colors I want to choose. I'm having a hard time deciding.

Yes, even after I taped and painted.

Today I was googling nursery murals, and now I'm thinking, hm, a mural might be kind of cool. I mean, check these out:




Okay, I can't do anything too fancy or intricate, but even if I did something a little simpler, most of them have backgrounds that are pale - like oatmeal color. Which means I'd have to re-paint, or find some way to incorporate a one-wall mural into the colors I have.

Or maybe I should just finish what I have, put things on the walls, get the furniture into place and say "What a nice room I made."

Oh, choices, choices. How to decide?
...

Blue?

Nearly two years ago when my cousin had a baby girl (her second child), my mother groaned and complained to me that she (my mom) did not like the baby's name. I remember thinking (and I even posted about it), who cares what the name is....she has a baby!

Well, that's how I felt. But now, you see, I do care. I care about my baby's name, and about other things. I look at it like this: I am getting ONE chance in this life to have a baby (I hope and God willing). I want his name to be something I like. I want him to wear baby clothes that I like. I want to pick the color of his room. You know?

Imagine you've just gotten engaged, and it's time to plan your wedding. You begin to think about all the fun things....trying on wedding gowns, picking the colors for your wedding, choosing the food for your reception, tasting cakes and picking the design, flavors and frosting for your cake, will you have a live band or DJ? Where will the wedding be? The reception? What sort of fun favors will you give your guests? Yeah, these things are costly...but they're fun. It's your one wedding, and even if you don't have a big budget, you can't wait to start the planning.

Now imagine your mother, ever-so-well-intentioned, says to you, "Don't bother trying on wedding gowns, because - HERE - I'm giving you this gown." And when you start dreaming of your colors, and you mention to her that you are thinking of "blue," she nearly bites her tongue off saying, "Blue?! What shade of blue?!" Because, you must realize, that your color choice will have to meet with her approval, and she is suddenly gripped with fear that you are thinking of some gaudy, too-bright, horrible shade of blue that she will be compelled to tell you makes your skin tone look like death. And when you tell her that you've chosen XYZ as the location for the reception, she can't seem to stop suggesting that you consider ABC, then DEF, or perhaps GHI.

Welcome to my life with my mom.

I told her I was going to look at paint colors for the baby's room. "Oh, what color are you thinking of?" she asked, ever-so-casually (but I knew what was coming).

"Blue" I said.

"Blue?!" (you'd have thought I'd said neon pink). "What shade of blue?!"

"Oh, something really horrible and dark and gruesome" I said flatly.

"I"m just asking" she replied, hurt.

Well, yeah, maybe she was just asking. And maybe (more likely) she wanted to be sure she approved and that I wasn't about to make an irreversible mistake in painting the baby's room Midnight Cobalt.

Sheesh.

We've chosen a first name (to be revealed upon his birth). I mean, we've chosen. My DH and I refer to him by his first name now. My mom? She's still tossing names out there for us to consider.

"Did you know Joshua is one of the top ten names? I like Joshua. How about Jake? I always liked the name Jake. I also like Taylor. What about Andrew?"

I mean, she knows the name. Apparently she does not entirely approve of it.

Remember my analogy of the wedding gown given to the bride, with instructions not to bother trying on gowns? Yeah. My mom actually told me not to buy baby clothes. She told me to save our money to buy diapers and bottles. She sent me a 20 pound box full of newborn clothes. Do you have any idea how many outfits it takes to make 20 pounds?

This will be my one newborn baby. Might it occur to my mom that I - the baby's mother - might want to buy my baby a few outfits? That it's fun to shop for baby clothes in the way it is fun for a bride to go try on wedding gowns? Apparently not. Let me tell you, there are more baby clothes in the box my mom sent than could possibly fit in a closet and dresser combined. More than the baby could possibly wear before he outgrows them.

I cried when the box arrived. My DH, bless his heart, told me that we could store the box out in the garage and I can go buy whatever baby clothes I want. I haven't opened the box again since.

It's not that I'm ungrateful. And my DH pointed out that it's good that my mom wants to be involved (despite the fact that the baby is not the precious granddaughter she wanted). But he also told me not to let her hijack this experience from me. Hijack. That's just the word he used. I know she's trying to be helpful, but it was beginning to feel like I was being hijacked.

So today, I painted the baby's room. I wanted a soft, pale, blue/gray/violet color. Not yet dry, it looks a little too violet and not enough blue. And if I don't like it, my DH said "Paint's cheap" and I'll go buy another gallon that is more blue.

Although my quads are already aching, my back is sore and my hand is cramped from rolling/painting, I enjoyed every minute working on his room today. After all, this is my one chance.
...

Happy New Year

Happy New Year!

As I write this post, my DH and I are watching the Tw/ilight Z/ one Marathon. We've done it twice a year since we met. It runs for a couple of days during the July 4 holiday and again at the New Year.

It's a bit nostalgic for us this time because the last time we watched the marathon, in July, we were in the hotel room where I was on strict bed rest immediately after my FET. Waiting and wondering if the transfer would work. Watching the episodes we again watch now.

The difference is that now, 6 months later, I have a baby boy wiggling in my belly.

This weekend I am making homemade scones. We'll go look at paint colors today for the baby's room. Maybe even look at some furniture. If I find paint I like, my DH might start painting. Otherwise, it will be a low-key start to 2010 for us.

I hope that this new year brings joyous change to your life. I hope that in December 2010, you will reflect back and smile with a full heart, remembering the wondrous blessings you experienced and the dreams fulfilled.

Have a wonderful first day of the year.
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