She knew, before we did.
One day, she attacked Rudy. Our neighbor's dog, a little black poodle who should really be called a puddle because he just loves everyone and everything and he's all about the love and happiness. He got chomped, blood and everything. I was mortified.
The Fed Ex guy dropped a package at our door, and had it not been for the glass, he would have lost some of his own package.
She won't leave me, for a second. Even in the bathroom. She forces the door open with her head, and if it won't budge, she leans agains the door and whines.
Even when the tests said no, she knew. And she was right.
The baby's due May 15. Rowan is very excited. And Lucy? She's on guard.
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Surrounded
Getting pregnant with Rowan was a miracle. Glorious, fabulous. Amazing. So wanted. Of course, it happened right when we didn't expect it, when we'd given up, when we were too busy to think about it. We were so lucky that everything went as well as it did (well, I consider a torn ACL, surgery, 4 months of puking, awful pain, physical therapy, and 29 hours of labor to be not so bad).
I'm hoping we can get lucky again.
It took me a while to get to this point. No, we're not pregnant, and haven't started trying again, but I finally got to the point where I think I am ready.
Then some bad things happened.
I'm not talking about the kids of other bloggers who died randomly and unjustly and so tragically. That was and is awful, yes. I wasn't a reader, so I wasn't invested myself, but the echoes were heard around the blogosphere.
No, but that same week, just after I had the realization that I was "ready", my friends lost their baby, just days after his official due date. He died in utero, and she had to go through labor and bury her child. This child that she didn't think she wanted to try for, until after she held my new baby for the first time. The child he had always dreamed of, a perfect son.
Then, another friend, someone from my high school class, wrote to me. He and his wife found their baby had severe heart defects and Downs Syndrome during a sonogram. They chose to end the pregnancy.
Dear God.
I've been trying to wrap my head and heart around this for weeks. I've thought, I've prayed, I've thought some more. I've talked with Dr. B. I've rejoiced in the healthy births of friends' and family's children. And then I looked at my little girl.
And I so want for her to have a brother or sister. She deserves as much love as we can give her in this life.
I am fearful. I am scared. Worried, anxious, you name it, I am feeling it. My age, the history of PCOS, my doctor's questions. The first pregnancy, gone in miscarriage. The months of grieving for our baby. The months of trying, the disappointment.
The ultimate question: what if that was it?
There are many things going on in our lives in the near future. Big trips coming up, plans, exciting things. These things I could use as excuses to put it off. But then I remember my birthday coming up, and I know I can't.
Soon, I think we'll start down the path to trying again.
Please, God. Please.
I'm hoping we can get lucky again.
It took me a while to get to this point. No, we're not pregnant, and haven't started trying again, but I finally got to the point where I think I am ready.
Then some bad things happened.
I'm not talking about the kids of other bloggers who died randomly and unjustly and so tragically. That was and is awful, yes. I wasn't a reader, so I wasn't invested myself, but the echoes were heard around the blogosphere.
No, but that same week, just after I had the realization that I was "ready", my friends lost their baby, just days after his official due date. He died in utero, and she had to go through labor and bury her child. This child that she didn't think she wanted to try for, until after she held my new baby for the first time. The child he had always dreamed of, a perfect son.
Then, another friend, someone from my high school class, wrote to me. He and his wife found their baby had severe heart defects and Downs Syndrome during a sonogram. They chose to end the pregnancy.
Dear God.
I've been trying to wrap my head and heart around this for weeks. I've thought, I've prayed, I've thought some more. I've talked with Dr. B. I've rejoiced in the healthy births of friends' and family's children. And then I looked at my little girl.
And I so want for her to have a brother or sister. She deserves as much love as we can give her in this life.
I am fearful. I am scared. Worried, anxious, you name it, I am feeling it. My age, the history of PCOS, my doctor's questions. The first pregnancy, gone in miscarriage. The months of grieving for our baby. The months of trying, the disappointment.
The ultimate question: what if that was it?
There are many things going on in our lives in the near future. Big trips coming up, plans, exciting things. These things I could use as excuses to put it off. But then I remember my birthday coming up, and I know I can't.
Soon, I think we'll start down the path to trying again.
Please, God. Please.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Water
I think my water may have broken, at about 3:20 this morning. I have had some intermittent back pain, and couldn't sleep any more, and really, really needed some peanut butter toast. I read until 6:30, then called the nurse.
So right now, we're getting things ready, showering, eating breakfast, walking the dog (him), putting away clean towels and scouring the sink (me), and preparing to go in and find out if it has.
Broken? I stay and have a baby.
Not? I come home and blog about how frustrated I am.
So if you don't hear anything, you know what's happening.
Comments won't be posted until I get back (as there's no Wifi at the hospital), whether that's in a few hours or a few days, so please post them only once. Thanks!)
So right now, we're getting things ready, showering, eating breakfast, walking the dog (him), putting away clean towels and scouring the sink (me), and preparing to go in and find out if it has.
Broken? I stay and have a baby.
Not? I come home and blog about how frustrated I am.
So if you don't hear anything, you know what's happening.
Comments won't be posted until I get back (as there's no Wifi at the hospital), whether that's in a few hours or a few days, so please post them only once. Thanks!)
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Due
I found this on a roll that was missed in my camera bag, so I decided to spend the afternoon of my due date walking around Walmart for an hour and wait for it to be developed, hoping it would launch me into labor.
It didn't.
But, there are new photos on Flickr, so click that one to go there, if you like. There's a few of the nursery (in progress--the finished room is on the roll that's currently in the camera), some of the April shower, one of the May shower, a few taken this last week when my cousin visited, and some Dr. B took to record what I looked like during my last trimester of pregnancy.
I am smiling, so obviously those were taken before I got completely fed up with the whole being pregnant thing. My due date has come (and nearly gone) and I am still here, swollen, bloated, crampy and waiting. Unfortunately, a due date is not an expiration date.
The nursery is ready, there is extra toilet paper in the closet, the fridge is stocked (except for fruit, yogurt and eggs which we keep eating), and there are even new tomato plants and eggplant plants on the porch (though I haven't potted the eggplants yet.) Lucy has had an excursion to the country for exercise, gotten her rabies shot, and even got a new bag of peanut butter cookies in her Boîte à Toutou.
The finished and overdue library books are returned, my hair is freshly cut and styled, and I even finished knitting that scarf I started for my stepsister a long time ago. Even Lucy is freshly trimmed (thanks to Dr. B with the clippers on the porch).
The new-to-us baby stuff is 409'd and washed, the G diapers are loaded and ready, and there is a brand-new crib, with freshly ironed dust ruffle, lined with a duck and frog sheet and waiting for its occupant to make her appearance.
But we are still waiting. On the job for him, and the baby for both of us. Feels a bit like suspended animation--difficult to keep busy, not get too bored, and try to keep the house clean for the visitors that will come as soon as we make the announcement (though we know they love us and don't care if the bathroom is spotless.) We get a lot of "have you had it yet?" phone calls. It's nice to talk to people, but if I hear that question one more time, I think I'll scream.
Maybe that will trigger labor. One can hope.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
The Motherlode
With no labor in sight, I taught a full day on Friday. French at a middle school--not a bad assignment. It was a tougher school, but generally, the kids in French classes aren't too difficult, I know the subject matter very well, and I've found that they tend not to mess with me too much when they see just how pregnant I am. Though I'm not very "big" on the scale of pregnant women due to my freakishly long torso (one girl asked me yesterday if I was 4 or 5 months along), an announcement of my due date being "Wednesday", usually results in a few jaws scraping the floor. Even the tough kids back off when they hear that, telling me about their mothers or aunts or sisters who are expecting, and hoping I don't go into labor right then and there. Heh! Whatever works!!!
After school, I planned to hit a garage sale I'd seen listed on Craig's List. Y'all know I love me my Craig's List. After a successful find a few weeks ago of a complete starter set (with extras she added when I arrived) of G diapers for about 1/4 of the cost online, I had a sneaking suspicion that my Craig's List luck may have run out, but decided to perservere nonetheless.
This sale was listed as "everything you need for baby", so I hoped to find a few things we didn't have yet, though I didn't count on it. I was showing up at the end of the day on day 1 of a 2 day sale, so I knew my chances weren't great.
As it happened, we were in a tornado watch, so the sale people were pulling things inside when I showed up, about 3:30. They didn't have anything I needed. I was a little disappointed, but figured I'd just have to keep watching the website for more, and I'd eventually find things.
"We don't have any of those things, but you should check their sale," the lady said, pointing down the street. "Keep driving around--there are lots of sales in the neighborhood."
And boy, was she right!!!
I found an exersaucer jumperoo, a swing, an older style baby gym, a travel bed and an antique wooden Jenny Lind highchair, that I will probably strip and refinish to match our table set and the hutch my grandfather built.
For all of this, I paid about what I would have paid for our highchair. (And that one was plastic.) And, I'm recycling!!!
Today, my cousin and her husband are going to help us pick up our crib, and then we should be pretty much set.
Except for one little thing.
After school, I planned to hit a garage sale I'd seen listed on Craig's List. Y'all know I love me my Craig's List. After a successful find a few weeks ago of a complete starter set (with extras she added when I arrived) of G diapers for about 1/4 of the cost online, I had a sneaking suspicion that my Craig's List luck may have run out, but decided to perservere nonetheless.
This sale was listed as "everything you need for baby", so I hoped to find a few things we didn't have yet, though I didn't count on it. I was showing up at the end of the day on day 1 of a 2 day sale, so I knew my chances weren't great.
As it happened, we were in a tornado watch, so the sale people were pulling things inside when I showed up, about 3:30. They didn't have anything I needed. I was a little disappointed, but figured I'd just have to keep watching the website for more, and I'd eventually find things.
"We don't have any of those things, but you should check their sale," the lady said, pointing down the street. "Keep driving around--there are lots of sales in the neighborhood."
And boy, was she right!!!
I found an exersaucer jumperoo, a swing, an older style baby gym, a travel bed and an antique wooden Jenny Lind highchair, that I will probably strip and refinish to match our table set and the hutch my grandfather built.
For all of this, I paid about what I would have paid for our highchair. (And that one was plastic.) And, I'm recycling!!!
Today, my cousin and her husband are going to help us pick up our crib, and then we should be pretty much set.
Except for one little thing.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
False Alarm
I'm still here.
Despite all the calls from concerned family members ("Have you had it yet?"), we haven't had it yet. I had back pain on Monday, but nothing happened. A few Braxton Hicks contractions, but no "real ones". The water has not broken. And Zizou, apparently, still has plenty of room to roam--I can watch my belly heave and burble like the ground near the San Andreas Fault.
Yesterday, while enjoying lunch out with my awesome cousin and her super cool husband (who's in the traveling show of Mamma Mia!, now playing in Madison), I started having some weird contraction-type things.
Except these were not at all what I expected.
I felt like a little tiny Klingon was in my pelvis zapping me with a taser. Or a cattle prod. Definitely something electrical.
They continued randomly while I "taught" for two hours at a local middle school (and sat through the first half of Shrek 2 and High School Musical, again), and then disappeared.
They reappeared around 10 PM. About every 10 minutes. And they hurt. I started sweating.
And worrying.
Why now? I am so tired!!! I just want to sleep. Please, not now. Just wait until morning, OK? Please???
To be on the safe side, after half an hour of hemming and hawing, I decided to cancel my teaching job for today. (Honestly, it wasn't too hard a decision--it was a tough assignment, and I wouldn't have looked forward to it even if I wasn't pregnant.)
They kept up, slowing to about every half hour, until approximately 2 AM. Then I fell asleep. Of course, I still woke up every hour or so to pee (what else is new?), but the contractions (if that's what they were) didn't come back. I started to feel guilty. That's a lot of diaper money I just flushed.
Then about 4 AM I had a thought. A wonderful, fabulous thought.
When I woke at 6:30, I called the sub office. I asked for this day to be taken from my "PI" account (personal illness). That means I get paid for today. We get one day for every 20 worked. I had forgotten. Yay for unions!!! I went back to bed, and slept until 9.
And this morning? Feels like normal. I'll let you know. There's no wifi at the hospital, despite the otherwise-state-of-the-art birthing suites, but I've trained Dr. B to moblog photos to my flickr page from his phone, so if there's anything to report, you'll see it there first. Even if it is just a picture of me looking sweaty, frustrated and angry.
Let's hope that happens soon!
Despite all the calls from concerned family members ("Have you had it yet?"), we haven't had it yet. I had back pain on Monday, but nothing happened. A few Braxton Hicks contractions, but no "real ones". The water has not broken. And Zizou, apparently, still has plenty of room to roam--I can watch my belly heave and burble like the ground near the San Andreas Fault.
Yesterday, while enjoying lunch out with my awesome cousin and her super cool husband (who's in the traveling show of Mamma Mia!, now playing in Madison), I started having some weird contraction-type things.
Except these were not at all what I expected.
I felt like a little tiny Klingon was in my pelvis zapping me with a taser. Or a cattle prod. Definitely something electrical.
They continued randomly while I "taught" for two hours at a local middle school (and sat through the first half of Shrek 2 and High School Musical, again), and then disappeared.
They reappeared around 10 PM. About every 10 minutes. And they hurt. I started sweating.
And worrying.
Why now? I am so tired!!! I just want to sleep. Please, not now. Just wait until morning, OK? Please???
To be on the safe side, after half an hour of hemming and hawing, I decided to cancel my teaching job for today. (Honestly, it wasn't too hard a decision--it was a tough assignment, and I wouldn't have looked forward to it even if I wasn't pregnant.)
They kept up, slowing to about every half hour, until approximately 2 AM. Then I fell asleep. Of course, I still woke up every hour or so to pee (what else is new?), but the contractions (if that's what they were) didn't come back. I started to feel guilty. That's a lot of diaper money I just flushed.
Then about 4 AM I had a thought. A wonderful, fabulous thought.
When I woke at 6:30, I called the sub office. I asked for this day to be taken from my "PI" account (personal illness). That means I get paid for today. We get one day for every 20 worked. I had forgotten. Yay for unions!!! I went back to bed, and slept until 9.
And this morning? Feels like normal. I'll let you know. There's no wifi at the hospital, despite the otherwise-state-of-the-art birthing suites, but I've trained Dr. B to moblog photos to my flickr page from his phone, so if there's anything to report, you'll see it there first. Even if it is just a picture of me looking sweaty, frustrated and angry.
Let's hope that happens soon!
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Sea Monkeys and Decoder Rings
We're still waiting.
My due date is fast approaching, and Dr. B still doesn't know about the job. And that's just the way it is.
We feel like kids who've ordered something from the back of a cereal box, or Highlights magazine, or an Archie comic.
6 to 8 weeks, it said.
It could be four. They could send it early. I mean, how hard can it be? Things come early sometimes, don't they?
And we wait. And there's nothing.
OK, Six. Here we are. Six. It's gotta be any day now. We're ready. We've prepared. We've got it going on. It should be here, right away!
And we wait. And there's nothing.
So we wait, for eight. Or ten. Because it could be ten. Or even (gulp) twelve. (Both Dr. B and I were first babies, and we were both late. Very late. I was 25 days late. He was a month late. And you wonder why we can never show up on time for a party?)
Last week, Dr. B got frustrated and emailed the big U to find out the status. Turns out he is "one of the top two or three" and they are asking for funding for more than one. But the guy that does funding is in Ghana. So it will be a while yet. It helps to know, though.
On Wednesday, I got a call from my MIL.
So, how you feeling?
Fine.
Anything yet?
No. A few contractions, but nothing big. Doc says I'm 70% effaced, and still only 1 cm. dilated. Could be tomorrow, but it could be in three weeks. No way of knowing.
Huh. I was hoping.
We'd tell you, you know.
I know. It's just...
Just what?
Well, my friend's daughter is due three days after you, and she had hers yesterday.
Oh.
Yeah, but she had a ceserean. She was quite heavy, so maybe she had diabetes or preeclampsia or something. I don't know.
Well, ceserean's can be scheduled, you know.
Yeah, I know. I was just hoping. I thought maybe you were there already. At the hospital. You know, since she had hers, and you're due before her...
J, we will call you.
I know. I just am so excited. I thought for sure. I mean, it's just days now, until your due date. Fourteen days! Just days! I thought maybe...
No, J. We'll call you. You'll know.
So, she's ready. Her school district is already out (lucky them, Madison goes until 6/15) and she's ready to join us to help when the baby's born. I've accepted jobs for through next Friday, figuring I'd rather earn diaper money than sit at home and stare at my ginormous gut and wonder when she's going to make an appearance. I can always cancel them if I'm too tired or in labor.
Yesterday, I woke up in a very strange state. For one, it was twenty to ten. TWENTY TO TEN!!! I haven't slept that late since we lived in France. Huh, must have been a hormone shift or something. (Today I stayed in bed until 9. Still pretty good for me.) Then, I noticed my bump had definitely shifted downward. There was no longer the high rise under my boobs, and I was 1 inch bigger around the middle (now 43 inches.) I spent the morning having a wonderful, selfish weekend (eating cookies that taste like the Girl Scout Peanut Butter patties and cold pizza in my jammies, drinking caffeinated coffee, emailing, reading blogs, reading a really fluffy novel and watching the Tudors.)
I then spent the rest of the day doing productive crap, like laundry, cleaning, reorganizing, writing thank you notes, and putting new stuff away. The nesting happened more in the last month--this was just frustrated energy more than anything. I didn't feel compelled, just disgusted with my messy house and tasks left to complete.
After supper, Dr. B and I decided to go to a movie. It had been a long time since we've been to the theater, so we were anxious to go. He ate popcorn (all before the previews were over, as is his compulsion) which I skipped, thinking that avoiding the salt would help me avoid my nightly foot swelling, and I used the bathroom three times before Johnny Depp came on-screen. Hoping.
Yeah, right. Pirates of the Caribbean 3 turned out to be a bit confusing for me. Mainly because I had to get up to pee approximately 27 times. You miss a lot when that happens. I guess it was too loud for little Zizou, because she was dancing like she just don't care, making her Mommy nearly wet her pants every 8.3 minutes. My pelvis ached with every step I took to and from the bathroom (27 times), I couldn't get comfortable for the life of me, and my feel swelled up so bad the skin felt like it was going to split.
I've gained 20 pounds with this pregnancy, and I'm pretty sure at least 8 of it is in my feet (mostly the right one). I look like a blonde half-Hobbit (I guess just the right side is Hobbit). The shoe envy is killing me--I see so many super cute shoes I want, but all my poofy pieds will fit into (and that's only with some shoving and mooshing around of the foot skin) is my Mephistos or my Birkenstocks, on the last notch. Plus, I don't know if my feet will have grown, as is often the case. I want a haircut, too, but I'm afraid it will all fall out after the baby's born. So I thought, maybe a handbag? Then I look at the price and think, "that will buy a lot of diapers." Even my clothes, the cute maternity things I was so excited to wear, are looking pilly and old. Amazing after only a few months--they charge an arm and a leg, and then the dumb things look like crap after one pregnancy. It's a racket, I tell you!
So here I am. Fat, puffy, ugly, with zits, a bushy blonde head, wearing pilly clothes and ugly shoes, and without the new handbag I'd really love to get.
Waiting for our Sea Monkeys and Decoder Ring.
Sigh.
Pass the cookies.
My due date is fast approaching, and Dr. B still doesn't know about the job. And that's just the way it is.
We feel like kids who've ordered something from the back of a cereal box, or Highlights magazine, or an Archie comic.
6 to 8 weeks, it said.
It could be four. They could send it early. I mean, how hard can it be? Things come early sometimes, don't they?
And we wait. And there's nothing.
OK, Six. Here we are. Six. It's gotta be any day now. We're ready. We've prepared. We've got it going on. It should be here, right away!
And we wait. And there's nothing.
So we wait, for eight. Or ten. Because it could be ten. Or even (gulp) twelve. (Both Dr. B and I were first babies, and we were both late. Very late. I was 25 days late. He was a month late. And you wonder why we can never show up on time for a party?)
Last week, Dr. B got frustrated and emailed the big U to find out the status. Turns out he is "one of the top two or three" and they are asking for funding for more than one. But the guy that does funding is in Ghana. So it will be a while yet. It helps to know, though.
On Wednesday, I got a call from my MIL.
So, how you feeling?
Fine.
Anything yet?
No. A few contractions, but nothing big. Doc says I'm 70% effaced, and still only 1 cm. dilated. Could be tomorrow, but it could be in three weeks. No way of knowing.
Huh. I was hoping.
We'd tell you, you know.
I know. It's just...
Just what?
Well, my friend's daughter is due three days after you, and she had hers yesterday.
Oh.
Yeah, but she had a ceserean. She was quite heavy, so maybe she had diabetes or preeclampsia or something. I don't know.
Well, ceserean's can be scheduled, you know.
Yeah, I know. I was just hoping. I thought maybe you were there already. At the hospital. You know, since she had hers, and you're due before her...
J, we will call you.
I know. I just am so excited. I thought for sure. I mean, it's just days now, until your due date. Fourteen days! Just days! I thought maybe...
No, J. We'll call you. You'll know.
So, she's ready. Her school district is already out (lucky them, Madison goes until 6/15) and she's ready to join us to help when the baby's born. I've accepted jobs for through next Friday, figuring I'd rather earn diaper money than sit at home and stare at my ginormous gut and wonder when she's going to make an appearance. I can always cancel them if I'm too tired or in labor.
Yesterday, I woke up in a very strange state. For one, it was twenty to ten. TWENTY TO TEN!!! I haven't slept that late since we lived in France. Huh, must have been a hormone shift or something. (Today I stayed in bed until 9. Still pretty good for me.) Then, I noticed my bump had definitely shifted downward. There was no longer the high rise under my boobs, and I was 1 inch bigger around the middle (now 43 inches.) I spent the morning having a wonderful, selfish weekend (eating cookies that taste like the Girl Scout Peanut Butter patties and cold pizza in my jammies, drinking caffeinated coffee, emailing, reading blogs, reading a really fluffy novel and watching the Tudors.)
I then spent the rest of the day doing productive crap, like laundry, cleaning, reorganizing, writing thank you notes, and putting new stuff away. The nesting happened more in the last month--this was just frustrated energy more than anything. I didn't feel compelled, just disgusted with my messy house and tasks left to complete.
After supper, Dr. B and I decided to go to a movie. It had been a long time since we've been to the theater, so we were anxious to go. He ate popcorn (all before the previews were over, as is his compulsion) which I skipped, thinking that avoiding the salt would help me avoid my nightly foot swelling, and I used the bathroom three times before Johnny Depp came on-screen. Hoping.
Yeah, right. Pirates of the Caribbean 3 turned out to be a bit confusing for me. Mainly because I had to get up to pee approximately 27 times. You miss a lot when that happens. I guess it was too loud for little Zizou, because she was dancing like she just don't care, making her Mommy nearly wet her pants every 8.3 minutes. My pelvis ached with every step I took to and from the bathroom (27 times), I couldn't get comfortable for the life of me, and my feel swelled up so bad the skin felt like it was going to split.
I've gained 20 pounds with this pregnancy, and I'm pretty sure at least 8 of it is in my feet (mostly the right one). I look like a blonde half-Hobbit (I guess just the right side is Hobbit). The shoe envy is killing me--I see so many super cute shoes I want, but all my poofy pieds will fit into (and that's only with some shoving and mooshing around of the foot skin) is my Mephistos or my Birkenstocks, on the last notch. Plus, I don't know if my feet will have grown, as is often the case. I want a haircut, too, but I'm afraid it will all fall out after the baby's born. So I thought, maybe a handbag? Then I look at the price and think, "that will buy a lot of diapers." Even my clothes, the cute maternity things I was so excited to wear, are looking pilly and old. Amazing after only a few months--they charge an arm and a leg, and then the dumb things look like crap after one pregnancy. It's a racket, I tell you!
So here I am. Fat, puffy, ugly, with zits, a bushy blonde head, wearing pilly clothes and ugly shoes, and without the new handbag I'd really love to get.
Waiting for our Sea Monkeys and Decoder Ring.
Sigh.
Pass the cookies.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
I'm Back!
The computer is working, albeit with a loss of everything I had on it (thank goodness for Flickr). All my music, knitting patterns, pictures, recipes, and miscellaneous other crap I stored on it is gone. Since I've had this computer for 3 or 4 years and never had a problem (and this problem was much less expensive to fix than a new computer would have cost), it really doesn't bother me that much. Macs are kind of like Hondas: they work until they don't. (And it's not often that they don't.) Thankfully, I didn't have tons of really important data on the computer, and my blog is still up. Somewhere, in some box, I have backups of that as well.
So now, I have a brand spankin' new hard drive (about 5 times as big as the last one), and the same keys with all the letters worn off.
Ahh, it's good to be home.
Although I worried some people a bit, the baby's not here yet. At my appointment yesterday (36 weeks), the doc said I'm dilated 1 cm. and 50-60% effaced (she touched the baby's head!!!), but I could stay there for another 4 weeks. I said, "Does that mean the baby could come soon?" and her answer was, "I make no predictions." It could be tomorrow, it could be mid-June. Right now, Zizou is very active, and her new favorite activity is to grind her head into my lower belly and pelvis hard, causing me to groan and nearly making me pee my pants. (She especially likes to do this when I'm walking around at Target.) You can see my belly move on its own if you watch, which is rather freaky. I can't yet see feet, as Aimee did, but I sure do feel them. (And usually push them back in--it's never too early to start discipline!)
There's no hiding the pregnancy now, and catching sight of myself in the mirror is always a shock. I'm bumping into things with my belly, and misjudging how much space I need to get through. I still feel like myself, and sometimes forget I have this humongous bump on the front of my body. This doesn't work well when reaching for a bowl in the cupboard above the stove. (Yes, I have burnt my belly. Smooth move, I know.)
The nursery is mostly done, and I'm pleased with how it's turning out, though our crib hasn't yet arrived. I also found some stuff today that I'm going to Martha into a cool wall-hanging thing for the wall. (Yes, the word Martha is now a verb. Please make a note.) I'll share pics when I can. (We are still filmies here--no new digital yet.) We're not 100% ready, but I don't think we could ever be. Finding the energy to do everything I want to do is very difficult. I am still working, though it's getting harder, and the kids are getting wilder as the temperature climbs. I'll keep going until I can't anymore, because soon enough I'll be at home full-time.
But until then, I better get downstairs and put some more clothes in the dryer. I need something to wear tomorrow, and I've only got so many things that are big enough and cool enough for the projected temperatures (and mine--I'm always hot.)
Good night!!!
So now, I have a brand spankin' new hard drive (about 5 times as big as the last one), and the same keys with all the letters worn off.
Ahh, it's good to be home.
Although I worried some people a bit, the baby's not here yet. At my appointment yesterday (36 weeks), the doc said I'm dilated 1 cm. and 50-60% effaced (she touched the baby's head!!!), but I could stay there for another 4 weeks. I said, "Does that mean the baby could come soon?" and her answer was, "I make no predictions." It could be tomorrow, it could be mid-June. Right now, Zizou is very active, and her new favorite activity is to grind her head into my lower belly and pelvis hard, causing me to groan and nearly making me pee my pants. (She especially likes to do this when I'm walking around at Target.) You can see my belly move on its own if you watch, which is rather freaky. I can't yet see feet, as Aimee did, but I sure do feel them. (And usually push them back in--it's never too early to start discipline!)
There's no hiding the pregnancy now, and catching sight of myself in the mirror is always a shock. I'm bumping into things with my belly, and misjudging how much space I need to get through. I still feel like myself, and sometimes forget I have this humongous bump on the front of my body. This doesn't work well when reaching for a bowl in the cupboard above the stove. (Yes, I have burnt my belly. Smooth move, I know.)
The nursery is mostly done, and I'm pleased with how it's turning out, though our crib hasn't yet arrived. I also found some stuff today that I'm going to Martha into a cool wall-hanging thing for the wall. (Yes, the word Martha is now a verb. Please make a note.) I'll share pics when I can. (We are still filmies here--no new digital yet.) We're not 100% ready, but I don't think we could ever be. Finding the energy to do everything I want to do is very difficult. I am still working, though it's getting harder, and the kids are getting wilder as the temperature climbs. I'll keep going until I can't anymore, because soon enough I'll be at home full-time.
But until then, I better get downstairs and put some more clothes in the dryer. I need something to wear tomorrow, and I've only got so many things that are big enough and cool enough for the projected temperatures (and mine--I'm always hot.)
Good night!!!
Friday, April 20, 2007
Google is now "They" and They did it again...
I logged in today to find that I had to change my login, my Mrs. B posts reposted all over Bloglines (sorry, I hate that, too), and the stupid navbar was at the top of the screen again. I tried to fix it, and somehow Google idiot-proofed it so idiots like me can't find the trick to get rid of the dumb thing.
Plus, today I took the day off to drive to Minneapolis. My sister is throwing me a baby shower, and family is coming from far and wide (seriously, some are flying in from Montana.) I feel so loved! It will be a busy weekend, visiting friends and family from both sides. Dr. B isn't coming along, as he flies out Sunday morning for a job interview. (Please think good thoughts for him!)
So, right now I don't have time to mess with my templates, and probably will be a bit lax on printing any comments. Please forgive me.
I'll be too busy chit-chatting, posing for pictures, opening presents, eating mass quantities, and finally wearing the capris and flip-flops I've been sighing over for the past month and a half. I'm at the point where most of my shoes don't fit after about 6 PM, so warmer weather is a blessing, even if it only lasts a few days. (We did have snow last week.) I'm also ready for skirts, because many of my pants aren't fitting quite the same, and skirts are just easier. I did make a home-made version of these to help keep up my under-belly pants, because it just pained me to see them hanging in my closet, unworn. Yet, when I wore them, I was yanking them up all the time, and it drove me nuts. A few mitten-clips from the fabric store, some elastic and velcro (to make them adjustable), and voilà! Saying "No!" to crack!
And the 3rd trimester exhaustion has surfaced--I now make plans and then become nauseous-tired and pass out after supper, about 3/4 of the way through the things I wanted to do. Then I wake up and go to bed. Dr. B says Zizou is sucking the life out of me. Last night was especially difficult, as she decided to take a 3 1/2 hour step aerobics class. She was moving around so much, it was physically painful for me, and left me totally drained. Drained like I thought I might puke, couldn't move enough to pack a few things into my suitcase, and felt like crying but just didn't have the energy to produce tears.
So, last night, I cheated. But it was OK cheating. My doctor said, for allergies, "take Claritin in the daytime, and Benadryl at night." I looked at her, questioning why you'd need more at night, since Claritin is 24 hour medication. She said, "you need to sleep. I'm guessing you're not sleeping very well right now."
Hmmm. I guess she's done this before. The Benadryl works like a charm. I slept like a rock.
Plus, today I took the day off to drive to Minneapolis. My sister is throwing me a baby shower, and family is coming from far and wide (seriously, some are flying in from Montana.) I feel so loved! It will be a busy weekend, visiting friends and family from both sides. Dr. B isn't coming along, as he flies out Sunday morning for a job interview. (Please think good thoughts for him!)
So, right now I don't have time to mess with my templates, and probably will be a bit lax on printing any comments. Please forgive me.
I'll be too busy chit-chatting, posing for pictures, opening presents, eating mass quantities, and finally wearing the capris and flip-flops I've been sighing over for the past month and a half. I'm at the point where most of my shoes don't fit after about 6 PM, so warmer weather is a blessing, even if it only lasts a few days. (We did have snow last week.) I'm also ready for skirts, because many of my pants aren't fitting quite the same, and skirts are just easier. I did make a home-made version of these to help keep up my under-belly pants, because it just pained me to see them hanging in my closet, unworn. Yet, when I wore them, I was yanking them up all the time, and it drove me nuts. A few mitten-clips from the fabric store, some elastic and velcro (to make them adjustable), and voilà! Saying "No!" to crack!
And the 3rd trimester exhaustion has surfaced--I now make plans and then become nauseous-tired and pass out after supper, about 3/4 of the way through the things I wanted to do. Then I wake up and go to bed. Dr. B says Zizou is sucking the life out of me. Last night was especially difficult, as she decided to take a 3 1/2 hour step aerobics class. She was moving around so much, it was physically painful for me, and left me totally drained. Drained like I thought I might puke, couldn't move enough to pack a few things into my suitcase, and felt like crying but just didn't have the energy to produce tears.
So, last night, I cheated. But it was OK cheating. My doctor said, for allergies, "take Claritin in the daytime, and Benadryl at night." I looked at her, questioning why you'd need more at night, since Claritin is 24 hour medication. She said, "you need to sleep. I'm guessing you're not sleeping very well right now."
Hmmm. I guess she's done this before. The Benadryl works like a charm. I slept like a rock.
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