2nd appointment!

We had our much-anticipated 2nd appointment on Wednesday morning, the focus of which was the NT scan.

I was nervous going into this appointment. Really, really nervous. I had read so many things about women having seen an healthy heartbeat at their first appointment only to discover at their 2nd that the baby had stopped growing. I know that it only happens to a very small percentage of the population, but that didn't stop my fear from nestling itself into the back of my mind, the corner of my heart. The anxiety was compounded by my own inability to imagine what it would be like to see a healthy baby. I have never seen that before, never had this experience of a healthy baby growing inside me, and I just couldn't picture what that would be like, what that would feel like, so visualizing a positive outcome was nearly impossible. The third factor contributing to my fear of the 2nd appointment was the fact that we still hadn't told everybody our wonderful news...for a reason. People don't tell until the end of the first tri for a reason. And that reason stayed with me, and kept gnawing at me every minute of the four weeks between our first and second appointment. My sweet husband was also anxious, and in the car on the way to the appointment he held my hand tightly and whispered that we could "be nervous together."

We were led back, and I had to weigh in (only 1 pound gained so far! yay!) before being ushered into the songrapher's room. I have to admit, the set-up was pretty sweet--she had a portable machine in front of her to look at, I had a flat screen on on the wall in front of the chair/table for me to look at, and DH had a computer on the little desk in front on him for him to look at. All our anxiety, all our nerves came to a head in a split second as she started the exam...and then there Cosmo was! Our baby! Who actually looked like a baby, with a head that looked like a real head and a neck, and an adorably round little Buddha belly, and arms and elbows and tiny little fingers and toes and a cute little tushy.

It was the single most incredible moment of my life. I literally could not breath...or at least, I did not breath...for at least 30 seconds.

Cosmo was just hanging out in there, looking very comfortable. Unfortunately he/she was not hanging out in a position that made the NT scan possible. So the tech had to "encourage" Cosmo to move around. She pushed firmly and repeatedly on my belly, kind of like bouncing a basketball. Suddenly, Cosmo started flailing around, squirming and wiggling and generally pitching a fit about the sudden disruption of his/her quiet life. TH and I both gasped out loud to see the moving limbs, and then laughed, staring wide-eyed, drinking every drop of the screen in. He/she stretched like our cats stretch, all the way out, arching his/her back. The tech even commented on it, "wow, that baby likes to stretch that back!" I can only imagine it feels good to stretch like that every now and then when your world is so small and constricting.

Cosmo refused to turn the right way for a while, and no matter of bouncing could convince him/her otherwise. I think Cosmo may have inherited his/her mom's stubborn streak! After a good four or five minutes of bouncing around from the pushing of the tech, Cosmo decided enough with this and turned his/her back to us, curling up in a ball and ignoring us. We got to see his/her spine and cute little tushy! Finally, after a little more prodding, we got the money shot, and Cosmo's measurement was outstanding! Yay for a healthy, squirmy, wiggly, funny little baby!

At the end, Cosmo put his/her arm up by his/her face, as if saluting us, saying glad I could help! (Or maybe we were getting the finger.)

The best part was we got it all on tape. I can see my wiggly little baby any time I want!

Here are the shots from the scan. Can you BELIEVE how much Cosmo has changed in just four short weeks??? From tiny little blob with a fluttering heartbeat to adorable baby!



Our next appointment is March 25th...and our doctor seems to think that's the appointment when we'll find out if Cosmo is a he or she!! I have added a poll to the right side of the page. Taking bets for the next four weeks!

Finally, for your viewing pleasure, a bootlegged version of our video. (We just taped it while it played on our TV--it's not the whole thing...just a couple of minutes worth.) If you look carefully, you can see Cosmo squirming in reaction to the bounces, and a great shot of a long arm and elbow, a couple of flashes of brain hemispheres, and then by the end, Cosmo is deciding enough is enough and turns around. Enjoy!

His Smile

He watches children now.

He used to look at them and then look back at me,
his eyes wide, screaming oh my god can you
even imagine thank you lord that we are not
having to deal with that right now.

Then, not too long ago,
there was a period when he looked at them silently,
contemplatively,
pondering their existence,
how they came to be,
how long it took for them to come to be.

Now he watches them.
And smiles.
A quiet smile that bubbles up from his heart,
a smile he doesn't even realize is on his lips.

He is so easily unguarded.

He smiles at their wiggly limbs,
their messy hair,
their untied shoelaces,
their food smeared across their cheeks,
their shrieks of amusement and joy.

He watches fathers
interacting with their sons,
their daughters.

Watches and smiles.

Valentines and Double Digits

10 weeks! Woohoo! We've finally made it to the double digits! (and yet at the same time, holy cow, already?? What happened to weeks 8 and 9? It's amazing how much feeling yucky makes time pass in a blur of...well...yuckiness.)

Every Sunday evening TH and I take time to read out loud the next chapter of our week-by-week book. I could not BELIEVE how big the "actual size" picture of Cosmo is. I have no problem picturing him/her as a tiny little blob the size of a blueberry. But picturing him/her as a baby, with little wiggling fingers and toes and elbows and knees and a nose and ears and a distinct head, all of which add up to the size of a large lime...somehow I just can't get my mind wrapped around that! Cosmo, you're HUGE! I absolutely cannot wait until our 2nd appt. next week, when we get to see Cosmo again, get to see what a big baby he/she's already become.

Saturday was Valentine's day, our last Valentine's day as just a solo couple...at least for a very, very long time. It was our thirteenth Valentine's day together. It was strange knowing that it was our last one with just the two of us. TH is a great Valentine, as I'm sure you could have guessed by now. He's sweet and romantic and puts a lot of thought into what we do. He checked in with me a couple of weeks ago, telling me that my gift would be doing something, not getting something. He wanted to make sure that was ok. I had laughed, telling him that he knows I'm not a big "material gift" kind of girl--I'm much more about sharing experiences (which is why we travel so much). He said "I know...it's just with your hormones and stuff...I didn't want you to be upset." What a sweet, thoughtful Valentine. I got something anyway--a pair of pearl earrings. We spent the day together, napping wrapped up in each other on the couch, cooking a wonderful steak dinner (he even set the table with candles!). His plan was to take me dancing, but I had to bow out...I just wasn't feeling well enough to make a big night of something. So we rented a cheesy romantic comedy and spent the evening in our pjs on the couch. It was a quiet, listless day, with nothing to do but focus on each other. Perfect.

AND, I found out where TH is planning on taking me for our babymoon: Hawaii!! Yippee! I feel a little irresponsible for taking such a big trip in a bad economy with a baby on the way, but the tickets are free b/c we are using accrued miles, and we have a "vacation account" that we add to bit by bit, so we'll only be spending money we've already saved. So, irresponsible or not, Hawaii here we come!

I thought of one more symptom I forgot to mention in the previous post. I burp like a 17-year-old boy. Seriously. If you've ever seen Revenge of the Nerds, in the Olympics scene at the end when Booger competes in the burping contest...that's me. Poor TH.

Things I want to remember:

• When we read our book every Sunday, TH reads aloud to me and keeps one hand on my stomach. He wants Cosmo to know that he's reading to him/her, too.
• Yellow/orange foods are working the best: goldfish, graham crackers, peanut butter, orange gatorade, bananas, oranges, cereal, hamburger helper, etc.
• The more I do, the better I feel. The less I do, the worse I feel.
• I may have a problem with clothes shopping once we find out the sex, but right now, I have a problem with book shopping. I'm sure that we won't even be able to use some of these books for years, but I see them and have to have them. I guess that comes with the territory of being a bibliophile.
  

Only 9 days 'til we get to see you again, Cosmo! I can't wait!

Me, Pregnant

I figured at least one post needs to be dedicated to capturing how my body is handling being pregnant. You know, all the fun symptoms and stuff. Already I catch myself worrying about a certain twinge or cramp, only to remember that very same feeling was very common two weeks ago (and certainly nothing to worry about). So if I can get down all the ways I feel, all the things that are different, maybe for my next kid I can read this and remember that I've done it all before. (Although they say that every pregnancy is different, and this likely won't have any bearing or relevance whatsoever on the bakings of future buns.)

Cramps
I was crampy from about 7 DPO to about 9 weeks. The types of cramps ranged...the first ones felt just like AF cramps--achy and widespread. This type was most prevalent in the beginning, but have made reappearances throughout these first two months, most notably at week 7. Then there was one that was in a line right down the middle of my ute area. There have been pointed, painful cramps that seem to only appear in certain spots (the spot on the right side seems most common). And then there are the ones I sometimes get when I stand up to quickly, a lightening, intense pain on the right side of my ute that causes me to catch my breath and double over (we called the nurse about that one...something about my ligaments stretching out...not fun).

Energy
I haz none. It started around week 4 with a general feeling of fuzzy headedness, of not being able to concentrate at work in the afternoons. I started being very ok with spending a great deal of our evening and weekend time on the couch watching recorded shows or movies on HBO. (For anyone who knows me well, this is a total 180 from how I used to feel about doing "nothing" on the weekends!) There were a couple of nights I went to bed by 8. There was one day at about 7 weeks I went home from work at lunch and slept from about 2:30 until the next morning (getting up for dinner of course). For the most part I haven't been sleeping the 12 hours I hear other people getting. It's been pretty consistent at 9 or 10, a significant increase from my usual 7. But the sleep that I am getting is rarely quality sleep. I toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position. I get up to pee one or two times a night. My temperature fluctuates and I got from sweaty and hot with the blankets on to shivering when I throw them off. And, like this morning, I have to get up and eat something by about 7 or else I feel crap-tastic. No more sleeping in for me. Maybe this is just training.

Nausea
Relatively speaking, I have been very lucky in this department. I haven't suffered the constant nausea I hear others having, much less any kind of intense sickness. In fact, I didn't feel bad at all until about half-way through week 6. Then it was just kind of a general feeling of malaise, like a light, light sea-sickness that just never went away...coupled with my lack of energy, it felt like I was eternally just getting over the flu. It has gotten slowly worse over the last four weeks, where now I actually feel sick to my stomach if I don't eat something about every 2 hours. My "morning sickness" has turned out to be evening sickness. My condition slowly deteriorates throughout the day until the last couple of hours at work are miserable, and the only reason the evening hours are any better is because I can put on pajamas when I get home at 6 and curl up on the couch. I have actually gotten sick (thrown up) only 3 times--twice in the evening because I didn't eat in time to keep the sickness at bay, and once in the morning a couple of weeks ago...I don't count that one though because I was trying to clear my throat (we are just emerging from Austin allergy season) and my gag reflex is on overdrive these days. So, very lucky in this department and I'm hoping that since it didn't really start until so late, I only have a few weeks of feeling this way until I start coming out of it in the second tri.

Food Cravings/Aversions
This, like all my other symptoms, has been very gradually developing. For about the first 8 weeks, I could pretty much eat anything, but there was only one thing that REALLY sounded good, and if I got to eat that one thing, it was the best tasting food EVER. The last two weeks, it's gotten to be more and more that I don't really want to eat anything (which does not go so smoothly with the eat-every-2-hours rule). I can usually find something that is acceptable, but things have stopped sounding good for the most part. And certain things I can't even begin to try. For example, fresh spinach now make me gag. I'm so sad about that. I loved spinach. The other night, after throwing up, I knew I needed to eat something, but once again nothing sounded good...except Ruffles potato chips. So we headed to the store, and this is what we ended up buying:
Canadian bacon (for my morning breakfast tacos...mmm...), Ruffles chips, ranch dip, cake mix, and two tubs of rainbow chip icing. I looked down at our selections on the way to the checkout and burst out laughing. If ever I needed an outward confirmation that I AM pregnant, it was that shopping trip.

My Emotions
Like the others, this has been something that has really become more noticeable in the last couple of weeks. In the beginning, I was just stressed about being pregnant. I was easily irritated at things like TH not re-washing the vegetables (even if the package said that they were triple washed and ready to eat). He learned to not be easily offended by me being short with him. I was nervous about everything--what I was eating, what I was drinking, if everything was ok, etc. I felt so much better after our first appointment, after I saw that little heartbeat. The irritability has now slid into easily saddened. I often feel like I'm on the brink of tears but I have no idea why (this is especially confusing and amusing when it happens when I'm at work). When we do get into an argument, the tears flow with a torrential intensity. I feel bad about myself when I can no longer do things that I used to do without thinking twice--lifting heaving things, helping TH unload and install the new washer/dryer, going for a long sunrise bikeride, etc. I drove by a restaurant the other evening that had a great patio area and saw a big group of yuppies obviously just off work hanging out and laughing and drinking and I was suddenly so sad, so nostalgic, thinking of all the great happy hours I had been to over the years with all my great coworkers. It's not that I'm not excited about what we have in store for us...I'm just gradually mourning the life that has been left behind.

I am still not quite letting myself get too carried away by enthusiasm. I think part of it has to do with my nervousness over making it through the first tri. I am a worrier, a planner by nature, and I don't want to get caught throwing caution to the wind when I know better. I am counting the hours until our next appointment, until we get to see Cosmo looking like a developing baby and not just a little fluttering jellybean. I am counting the hours until we can tell the world, tell our coworkers and hair dressers and neighbors. I think that keeping the secret is part of what makes me--keeps me--nervous.

So, all in all, a pretty easy time of it so far, and I am so thankful for that!

Telling My Dad

We went to San Antonio last weekend to celebrate my dad's birthday. It was our last parental reveal, and slightly touchier than our previous two. You really have to know my dad to understand the waters we were treading, but to give you a working picture, he (1) is NEVER wrong; (2) refuses to admit that he's aging...and then when he does admit it, he jumps straight to "I'm dying;" and (3) is a lifetime member of the NRA and was giving me my first tastes of beer when I was about 5 (about the age he started training me to bring him new beers when he had finished his last).

That said, he's also a wonderful, intelligent, loving dad who has always put a lot of creative effort into my birthday gifts (one classic example was him taping together 50 $5 bills end-to-end and rolling them up into a square tissue box so that I pulled them out like a big roll of toilet paper). We knew that we had to make the reveal interesting and creative in order to make BDO (Big Daddy-O...this was his "dad name" while I was growing up) feel important.

We had asked him a couple of months ago what he wanted his "grandpa name" to be--it was before we found out we were actually pregnant! He said "Pop," which is what we call my grandfather. So for one part of his present, we got him this onesie:
For the other part of his present, we made a fake "order confirmation" slip. Everything on it was a clue: the order number was 091409 (my due date). The cost was $250,000 (the estimate of what it costs to raise a child from 0-18; the shipping and handling was $5,000 (estimated cost of delivery). And the shipping date included a message that said "should ship in 150-160 business days."

So when it was time for gifts, we told him we had ordered him a custom gift but that it wasn't ready yet. So we had gotten him clues about what the gift was. He opened the "order confirmation" slip first and I was happy to see that he was suitably stumped for a while (I was a little worried he would figure it out immediately, and where's the fun in that??). But he loves a challenge (no secret where I got THAT from), and he kept after it.

And then his face lost all expression. Seriously, I have never seen my dad look so unguarded.

BDO: "Are you EXPECTING?"

There was no excitement in this question. It uttered with sheer shock.

I grinned and told him to open his other "clue."

He opened the onesie, and unlike my FIL, got it right away (especially b/c he had already figured it out).

BDO: "I need another beer." We laughed. "No, seriously. I need another beer."

He then went on to say how this was "totally unexpected" and he doesn't think he's "ever been so completely caught off guard and surprised in his entire life."

I admit, at this point I'm getting a bit miffed. For heaven's sake dad, I'm turning 30 in three weeks. We've almost been married 4 years. How unexpected could this really be? No "congratulations" were said. No questions about new cars or nurseries or any planning fun.

We went upstairs to get ready for dinner out, and TH could tell I was bothered by my dad's reaction. I was tearing up at the idea that he wasn't excited for us (my tears were not really all that significant as I cry at the drop of a hat these days), and TH, true to form, made me feel better with his sweet hilarity.

TH's take 1 on my dad's reaction: "He's as excited as he could ever be about something that doesn't involve boats or beer."

And, a couple of minutes later, TH's take 2: "It's not that he's not excited, it's just that he was forced to recognize that I am actually f*cking his daughter."

I think it's that my dad, who doesn't really like birthdays anyway b/c they call attention to the fact that he's another year older, just suddenly felt very old. You know, like a grandfather.

I spoke with him on Tuesday, and he was telling me how he had told everyone at work the following joke:

We had asked him what he wanted to be called when he was a grandfather. "Infrequently" he answered. "Well, Happy Birthday, Infrequently!"

Then he said, "It was funnier than the way it actually happened."

Strike #1: He told people at work after we had specifically told him to not tell anyone (and at the time he had responded like, "Who on Earth would I want to tell??").

Strike #2: He "improved" upon the way he was told, implying that our method was not story-worthy. And he made sure to tell us that he had improved the story.

But, as TH once again wonderfully pointed out, the fact that BDO was telling people at work is proof that he actually IS very excited, and that he's just an emotional cripple in relating that excitement to us.

I guess that's true. Now if I can just find a onesie that says "future drinking buddy," my dad might actually be on board with this.

Dear Sprout,

Hi sweet baby. I wanted to write something just for you. I'm going to try to do this at least once a month, and it's been just over a month since we found out about you! And what a month it's been.

I was thinking as I was driving home tonight about all the things I want to tell you about this last month, the first full month of your life, and there was one memory I had forgotten about 'til tonight, a memory I want to make sure to record. On New Year's Eve, just hours before we woke to the joy of knowing you, we were coming home from a friend's house. It was late--almost 2 in the morning--and as we exited the tollroad, we realized there was a person working in the tollbooth. It makes sense--those booths have to be staffed 24 hours--but on New Year's Eve we felt especially bad for the person whose luck it had been to pull the night shift. Rather than speeding through the tolltag lane, we pulled into the other lane, the one that has the booth, and slowed to a stop. There was an old woman in there, with sweet, kind eyes and snaggly teeth. When she opened her window, we told her that we just wanted to wish her a very happy new year. She smiled and laughed--she seemed surprised. She gave a sweet, Southern "Well thank you!" We drove off, feeling warm and happy inside. A couple of days later, after we had stared at the possibility of a second line on the pregnancy test, after we had seen the word "pregnant" and screamed and danced, your dad admitted to me that he likes to think of that old woman as God, that he likes to believe that since we pulled over that night to wish a lonely old woman a happy new year, that is why we were blessed with your presence the very next day. It's a lovely idea, and one that I wanted you to hear.

While on the subject, I want you to know about your dad. While there are a trillion more reasons to love him than I could ever fit on this blog, I want you to know that he's been even more wonderful this last month than I could have imagined. He has been patient with my mood swings, with my exhaustion, with my every littlest desire. He treats me with such gentleness and care. He does the dishes and helps pick up my slack with our overflowing laundry bin. He lets me order chick flicks and then snuggles with me on the couch, not moving a muscle for hours, far beyond the point I know his arm has gone numb from the weight of my head. He gets into my side of the bed for me while I'm brushing my teeth so that it's warm when I jump in. He kisses me goodnight and good morning, and he does the same to you, laying gentle hands on my stomach and bending to kiss the skin and whisper to you softly. He is so excited about you. He carries your picture around in his wallet.

The picture is of the moment we first saw you. We had our first doctor's appointment last week, and we were so lucky to have an early ultrasound, so lucky to have the chance to see you so early. Up until that point you were an idea. At the appointment, we saw you nestled inside me, saw your fluttering heartbeat beating away. At some point in the weeks before, you went from a rapidly dividing group of cells to a beating heart, a person, our baby. A solid reality. After that it didn't feel right to call you Sprout anymore. You had sprouted! You were a big kid with a big kid heartbeat, and you deserved a big kid name. I had had a dream the night before that the ultrasound screen showed us that you were an astronaut floating around in space, with a space suit on and everything. Russian astronauts are called cosmonauts, so Cosmo you've become. It suits you. It makes you sound more grown-up.

But this letter was still written to Sprout, because even though you are Cosmo in our day-to-day conversations, you are still Sprout in a tiny part of my heart that will never change. Already you are growing up so quickly--you are now your own person, with your own beating heart. But part of me will always think of you as a tiny, new possibility, as something that relied on me completely.

We've started to share news of your existence, and everyone is so excited for us, for you. Your grandparents are going to spoil you to no end, which I know you will love. Your dad's parents have already started telling us all the things they want to teach you--art and music and the Russian language. Be patient with them--they are acting from an overabundance of love, from a culture where family is the penultimate. From grandparents and aunts and uncles to great-grandparents and great-aunts and great-uncles, the word is being spread. You are already the focus of so much love from all over the country.

We will get to see you again in three weeks! January dragged by so slowly, so interminably. I'm hoping that February will pass more quickly. I can't wait to see you again, see how much you've grown. Until then, every time I think of you, every time I touch my stomach, I picture your beating heart and love you to no end.

I hope you can feel it.

With adoration,
Mom