38 weeks pregnant. Only 14 days to go.
This whole pregnancy I've heard how "time flies until the end . . . then it slows back down and just crawls."
Looking at my ticker, seeing "only 14 days to go!" makes me disagree. Holy moly. 14 days. Maybe less. But no more than 21. And then I'll have a baby. The thought takes my breath away. Makes my stomach erupt with butterflies.
It's a hard thing to wrap my mind around!
And it certainly doesn't seem like it's dragging on forever. These last few weeks have gone so quickly. And I can only imagine that the next two will as well. Two weeks. 14 days.
We had our weekly appointment this morning, and our doctor was unfortunately in an emergency c-section of twins, so we met with the NP instead. After feeling so good all week (except for that one little bout of "stress cramps," I felt much better last week than I did the week before), I figured I wouldn't have made much progress. I was right. Still at "about 1 cm," still at "about 10%." When they looked at my placenta, there were no calcification spots, which is what a normal placenta starts to look like around this time . . . it starts to break down. It's part of what happens when your body is "done" being pregnant. Nope. My placenta is "beautiful" apparently.
So I'm growing a big baby in a uterus that is so comfortable being pregnant that it's not really doing anything to suggest that it realizes it is supposed to NOT be pregnant sometime soon.
Makes me wonder who's going to win this waiting game: the big kid or the comfortable uterus.
They have 14 days . . . 21 max . . . to figure it out.
In other news, we are ready. I know I've said that before, but I guess we're "more ready" now. Our pack-and-play is assembled and waiting in our bedroom. All her blankets and hand-me-down clothes are washed and put away. I bought some nursing tanks. We are packing our hospital bag today. Any more preparation we get done from here on out is just piddling details, things that CAN be done but don't HAVE to be done before she can make her appearance. Things like boiling bottles. Putting batteries in her monitor. Getting a clock/CD player for her room.
All those details don't really mean so much any more. They're just things to do. The closest things I can do if I can't actually have her yet. Things that keep me distracted, when all I really want is to hold her to my chest, stroke her sweet arms, and still her cries with the sound of my beating heart and the warmth of my body.
I know once labor starts, the reality of the monumental task before me, the thing I have to get through before I can actually meet her, will come crashing down on me like a wave, and I will feel overwhelmed and anxious, perhaps even fearful of the imminent challenge before me. But for now, in my dreams, I skip that part and I think only of holding her.
I am thankful for my job, for our busy lives. Perhaps those are the only things that are keeping me distracted, the only things that have made, are making, will continue to make, time pass quickly.
14 days. I can't wait.
How far along?: 38 weeks
Total weight gain: 22 lbs
How big is baby?: 8.5 lbs
Maternity clothes?: I can count how many I still find comfortable and appealing without even having to use my toes.
Stretch marks?: Not that I can tell . . . maybe they're hiding somewhere?
Sleep?: It's actually been better lately. I'm falling asleep fast and sleeping heavily. I am so thankful for that while it lasts!
Best moment this week?: Every moment is wonderful. I know our time together is limited now, so I'm just enjoying every movement, every push, and thinking about how soon it will be until I get to meet her.
Movement?: I can literally almost see body parts now. When she does get to moving around, my belly rocks and rolls with the strength of her movement. I'm so proud of my strong girl--I hope she's still comfortable in there!
Food cravings?: Nope. Since she's dropped, my stomach once again has room for more normal-sized meals. She is a BIG fan of Cinnamon Toast Crunch as a sweet treat.
Labor signs?: Not really anything new. Still 1-ish cm. Still 10%-ish effaced. The strange "stress cramps" over the weekend were the closest thing I can think of to actual labor signs, and they were only timable for about 30-40 minutes. Now they come and go in random sneak attacks that make me sharply mutter "ow!" before they leave again just as quickly.
Belly button in or out?: Still in . . .
What I miss: Having a wardrobe full of clothes that fit.
What I'm looking forward to: Meeting my daughter!
Milestone: 38 weeks!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
What a Weekend
It all started last Monday. TH has talked about getting lasik for a looong time. We had always planned on it being his 30th birthday present. I saved up a little money in secret for him because I knew when it came down to it he would have a hard time spending so much on himself. Well, on one of our nightly walks, we talked about it some more. I told him about the money saved. We talked about our budget and how it would not likely improve after having kids. We talked about how much he hates his glasses and how frequently baby girl would pull them from his face, stick them in her mouth, etc. And finally, finally he agreed meet with a doctor for a screening. I told him if he was going to get it done, it needed to be this week. I may be crazy for letting him get major eye surgery only 3 weeks shy of my due date, but at least I drew the line somewhere! He had his consultation on Tuesday evening, and before we left we were signing the papers--surgery was scheduled for Friday at noon!
Number 1 thing to worry about this weekend: making sure my husband suffers no complications from major eye surgery leaving him blind and unable to see our new baby.
Wednesday we had what is more than likely our last softball game. He and I have been playing on a co-ed team for years, and though I haven't played in, oh, about nine months, it has still been a chance for us to get together and visit with our friends, something I KNOW would fall by the wayside of our busy lives if it weren't a set event. The very first inning TH went in, he had a hard bouncing grounder hit straight at him. It took a nasty bounce at his feet and hit his right middle finger straight on before bouncing up and smacking him in the chest. He quickly corraled the whirling dervish and tossed it to second for the out. Then he stopped and looked at his finger, which was squirting blood with each pulse like a scene from a cheap horror flick. The ball had separated his nail from his nail bed. I let him try ice and bandaids for the first night/day (he's not a "let's see what the doctor says" kind of guy), but when, 24 hours later, it was still oozing blood, I forced a trip to a walk-in urgent care clinic (much to his chagrin) where one tetnus shot and one x-ray later we were told it was broken. We left with said finger bandaged into a finger splint and strict instructions to leave on the splint for six weeks.
Number 2 thing to worry about this weekend: TH being unable to help me with the final prep work we have to do to get ready for baby girl, not to mention being able to support me through labor and delivery, not to mention concern that the finger incident would somehow negatively impact the eye surgery scheduled for two days later.
Ran over a frog in our neighborhood on the way home. Cue pregnant lady meltdown.
TH, true to form, always feels better when he's taking care of me and not focusing on his own problems. He "coached" me through my meltdown (thank God for that Bradley class!), put me to bed, and then did the dishes just to prove his broken finger wouldn't get in the way of him helping out.
So, going into the weekend, there were literally about 48 hours in which I could NOT go into labor. I needed him to be able to drive me to the hospital. I needed his finger not to be hurting him so badly that he couldn't help me with the process. I needed his parents and my dad not to come into town and see his broken finger and eye covers, as they are being kept blissfully ignorant of both events.
Friday: eye-surgery. The process literally took 20 minutes. A lifetime of bad vision wiped away in 20 minutes. They had him on valium, so he was plenty woozy on the way home and took a nice, long nap afterward. When he woke up, five hours post-op, he looked at me through his clear plastic eye shields and said, "I can see you. You're not fuzzy." Mental tally: eye-surgery worth every penny.
Saturday: First day without eye shields. Though his scleras are a little bruised, TH checked out with 20/20 vision at his 9 a.m. check-up. I headed to San Marcos to meet my dad for lunch and visit with my grandparents, leaving TH to hang out with his brother. Back home, we built a shelf for the bathroom, assembled our pack-and-play, started packing our hospital bag, and were about to go on a walk when I felt a sharp, shooting pain in my lower abdomen. Ow. What the hell was that? We nixed the walk and I sat on the couch while TH fixed dinner. Sharp shooting pain decided to return about every, oh, 10 minutes. I focused on relaxing, reminding my body and my daughter that we were still well within our 48-hour window of THIS CANNOT HAPPEN. We watched 17 Again, which was actually better than I thought it would be. I apologized to my body for being so busy that day, for being so wound up. Fell asleep on the couch.
Sunday: today. After a fitful night, I am delighted to report that sharp shooting pain has subsided, TH's eyes are healing right on track, and TH's finger swelling and bleeding have dissapated! The weekend shaped up much better than I feared (as is typically the case with fears). I am chalking aforementioned pain up to my stress levels about the weekend events. I am not thinking of them not as contractions--they weren't affecting my entire stomach, just the lower abdomen--but as cramps. Stress cramps if you will.
We now have all of today and all of tomorrow (TH decided to take Monday off with me as a sick day!) to focus on healing one of our bodies and keeping the other as relaxed and hydrated as possible.
So baby girl, you did it! You didn't come in the forbidden 48 hours. Now, I know it's asking a lot, but if you could just consider waiting at least until next weekend, that would be great. My stepdad is in Switzerland until Friday, and I know he desperately wants to be here when you make your grand entrance!
Number 1 thing to worry about this weekend: making sure my husband suffers no complications from major eye surgery leaving him blind and unable to see our new baby.
Wednesday we had what is more than likely our last softball game. He and I have been playing on a co-ed team for years, and though I haven't played in, oh, about nine months, it has still been a chance for us to get together and visit with our friends, something I KNOW would fall by the wayside of our busy lives if it weren't a set event. The very first inning TH went in, he had a hard bouncing grounder hit straight at him. It took a nasty bounce at his feet and hit his right middle finger straight on before bouncing up and smacking him in the chest. He quickly corraled the whirling dervish and tossed it to second for the out. Then he stopped and looked at his finger, which was squirting blood with each pulse like a scene from a cheap horror flick. The ball had separated his nail from his nail bed. I let him try ice and bandaids for the first night/day (he's not a "let's see what the doctor says" kind of guy), but when, 24 hours later, it was still oozing blood, I forced a trip to a walk-in urgent care clinic (much to his chagrin) where one tetnus shot and one x-ray later we were told it was broken. We left with said finger bandaged into a finger splint and strict instructions to leave on the splint for six weeks.
Number 2 thing to worry about this weekend: TH being unable to help me with the final prep work we have to do to get ready for baby girl, not to mention being able to support me through labor and delivery, not to mention concern that the finger incident would somehow negatively impact the eye surgery scheduled for two days later.
Ran over a frog in our neighborhood on the way home. Cue pregnant lady meltdown.
TH, true to form, always feels better when he's taking care of me and not focusing on his own problems. He "coached" me through my meltdown (thank God for that Bradley class!), put me to bed, and then did the dishes just to prove his broken finger wouldn't get in the way of him helping out.
So, going into the weekend, there were literally about 48 hours in which I could NOT go into labor. I needed him to be able to drive me to the hospital. I needed his finger not to be hurting him so badly that he couldn't help me with the process. I needed his parents and my dad not to come into town and see his broken finger and eye covers, as they are being kept blissfully ignorant of both events.
Friday: eye-surgery. The process literally took 20 minutes. A lifetime of bad vision wiped away in 20 minutes. They had him on valium, so he was plenty woozy on the way home and took a nice, long nap afterward. When he woke up, five hours post-op, he looked at me through his clear plastic eye shields and said, "I can see you. You're not fuzzy." Mental tally: eye-surgery worth every penny.
Saturday: First day without eye shields. Though his scleras are a little bruised, TH checked out with 20/20 vision at his 9 a.m. check-up. I headed to San Marcos to meet my dad for lunch and visit with my grandparents, leaving TH to hang out with his brother. Back home, we built a shelf for the bathroom, assembled our pack-and-play, started packing our hospital bag, and were about to go on a walk when I felt a sharp, shooting pain in my lower abdomen. Ow. What the hell was that? We nixed the walk and I sat on the couch while TH fixed dinner. Sharp shooting pain decided to return about every, oh, 10 minutes. I focused on relaxing, reminding my body and my daughter that we were still well within our 48-hour window of THIS CANNOT HAPPEN. We watched 17 Again, which was actually better than I thought it would be. I apologized to my body for being so busy that day, for being so wound up. Fell asleep on the couch.
Sunday: today. After a fitful night, I am delighted to report that sharp shooting pain has subsided, TH's eyes are healing right on track, and TH's finger swelling and bleeding have dissapated! The weekend shaped up much better than I feared (as is typically the case with fears). I am chalking aforementioned pain up to my stress levels about the weekend events. I am not thinking of them not as contractions--they weren't affecting my entire stomach, just the lower abdomen--but as cramps. Stress cramps if you will.
We now have all of today and all of tomorrow (TH decided to take Monday off with me as a sick day!) to focus on healing one of our bodies and keeping the other as relaxed and hydrated as possible.
So baby girl, you did it! You didn't come in the forbidden 48 hours. Now, I know it's asking a lot, but if you could just consider waiting at least until next weekend, that would be great. My stepdad is in Switzerland until Friday, and I know he desperately wants to be here when you make your grand entrance!
Monday, August 24, 2009
37 weeks!
It feels both completely normal and completely surreal to say that today I am 37 weeks pregnant . . . full term by many counts. Full term.
As in, you are welcome, baby girl, to make your appearance whenever you feel ready.
We had our weekly appointment this morning, our second one. I was curious to see whether any progress had been made over last week. I haven't really felt anything going on this week, other than some uncomfortable menstrual-like cramping a couple of times a day. After pondering it for a moment, your daddy felt confident that there would be progress. I am still thinking that you are quite comfortable in there, and that my body is quite comfortable being pregnant, so I was not as confident at my body making such early progress. Turns out a *little* progress was made! I am now one centimeter dilated, and about 10% effaced. So, slowly but surely, my body is in fact calmly preparing for your exit . . . or perhaps we should say your entrance.
The first nurse who took your measurements this morning showed you weighing only 6-something pounds and being a little behind in your growth. This was a huge shock considering last week you were measuring 2-3 weeks ahead and at 8 pounds! It just goes to show how different measurements can be depending on who takes them. My instinct was telling me that her measurements were more inaccurate than last week's, though, and the doctor, who served as sort of the tie breaker, backed up this motherly intuition. According to him, you are about 7.5 pounds, right on track to be a 9-9.5 pound baby. That sounds right to me! He also told me that there's an old obstetrician saying that a woman can "comfortably" deliver a baby that is equal in pounds to her shoe size. Well, baby girl, your momma wears a 9.5, so it looks like we are in perfect shape to do this!
Not only is my body totally ready (or, at least, capable . . . and getting itself slowly ready) for you, but your dad and I had a wonderfully busy weekend getting our house and car ready for you, too! We made trips to Target and Babies R Us and finished purchasing the few things we still felt we needed for you. Your dad installed your car seat in my mom-mobile. We made our phone list for when the time comes. We practiced our relaxation techniques, and we were able to realize that we aren't scared anymore of what labor and delivery are going to be like! We are of course a bit anxious about the unknown, but more than anything we are so excited to finally, finally, after all this time, meet you face to face.
Your dad is getting more and more attentive to me, more and more insistent that I take it easy and focus on relaxing. It's not an easy thing for me to do, especially when I feel bad that me doing less means that he has to take on so much more. But there's something driving him that will never let him tire, that will never let him resent the extra responsibility that's been placed on his shoulders. It's love. It's his love for you, and his love for me. I've never seen him so productive, so calm, so indefatigable. I've been feeling bad about not being able to do so much around the house as I used to, especially with all the new things added to our to-do list. But this morning at the doctor's office, when we saw you on the screen again, healthy and wonderful, when we heard how perfectly you were actually measuring, when we felt once again confident that we are on track for a beautiful labor and delivery and that we would be holding you in our arms soon enough, he turned to me with wet eyes and said, "Thank you. Thank you for growing our daughter so perfectly." You see baby girl, it's love. It's his love of you, and his love of me, that lets him remember the important work that we are both doing during this exciting time.
So here we are. 37 weeks. Ready for the final stretch, the final big push (yep, pun intended) that we will have to go through to finally reach the end of this fabulous 9-month journey. Your room is ready for you. You have a safe place to ride. My body is right on track. You are right on track.
Whenever you decide you're ready . . . we are, too.
I love you and can't wait to kiss your sweet little cheek.
Mom
As in, you are welcome, baby girl, to make your appearance whenever you feel ready.
We had our weekly appointment this morning, our second one. I was curious to see whether any progress had been made over last week. I haven't really felt anything going on this week, other than some uncomfortable menstrual-like cramping a couple of times a day. After pondering it for a moment, your daddy felt confident that there would be progress. I am still thinking that you are quite comfortable in there, and that my body is quite comfortable being pregnant, so I was not as confident at my body making such early progress. Turns out a *little* progress was made! I am now one centimeter dilated, and about 10% effaced. So, slowly but surely, my body is in fact calmly preparing for your exit . . . or perhaps we should say your entrance.
The first nurse who took your measurements this morning showed you weighing only 6-something pounds and being a little behind in your growth. This was a huge shock considering last week you were measuring 2-3 weeks ahead and at 8 pounds! It just goes to show how different measurements can be depending on who takes them. My instinct was telling me that her measurements were more inaccurate than last week's, though, and the doctor, who served as sort of the tie breaker, backed up this motherly intuition. According to him, you are about 7.5 pounds, right on track to be a 9-9.5 pound baby. That sounds right to me! He also told me that there's an old obstetrician saying that a woman can "comfortably" deliver a baby that is equal in pounds to her shoe size. Well, baby girl, your momma wears a 9.5, so it looks like we are in perfect shape to do this!
Not only is my body totally ready (or, at least, capable . . . and getting itself slowly ready) for you, but your dad and I had a wonderfully busy weekend getting our house and car ready for you, too! We made trips to Target and Babies R Us and finished purchasing the few things we still felt we needed for you. Your dad installed your car seat in my mom-mobile. We made our phone list for when the time comes. We practiced our relaxation techniques, and we were able to realize that we aren't scared anymore of what labor and delivery are going to be like! We are of course a bit anxious about the unknown, but more than anything we are so excited to finally, finally, after all this time, meet you face to face.
Your dad is getting more and more attentive to me, more and more insistent that I take it easy and focus on relaxing. It's not an easy thing for me to do, especially when I feel bad that me doing less means that he has to take on so much more. But there's something driving him that will never let him tire, that will never let him resent the extra responsibility that's been placed on his shoulders. It's love. It's his love for you, and his love for me. I've never seen him so productive, so calm, so indefatigable. I've been feeling bad about not being able to do so much around the house as I used to, especially with all the new things added to our to-do list. But this morning at the doctor's office, when we saw you on the screen again, healthy and wonderful, when we heard how perfectly you were actually measuring, when we felt once again confident that we are on track for a beautiful labor and delivery and that we would be holding you in our arms soon enough, he turned to me with wet eyes and said, "Thank you. Thank you for growing our daughter so perfectly." You see baby girl, it's love. It's his love of you, and his love of me, that lets him remember the important work that we are both doing during this exciting time.
So here we are. 37 weeks. Ready for the final stretch, the final big push (yep, pun intended) that we will have to go through to finally reach the end of this fabulous 9-month journey. Your room is ready for you. You have a safe place to ride. My body is right on track. You are right on track.
Whenever you decide you're ready . . . we are, too.
I love you and can't wait to kiss your sweet little cheek.
Mom
Friday, August 21, 2009
J is for Joy
If I could give you just one piece of advice, baby girl, it would be to find your joy. Yes, there are tons of other very, very important aspects to life, things like what I've talked about in this ABC list, things that I've completely forgotten to mention, things that I might not even know about, but believe me when I say that finding your joy tops them all.
And really, all of those other aspects, all those other things I've either talked about or have failed to mention, all of them can in some way be tied back to your joy. Being a good person, acting in such a way that you accomplish your goals, appreciating beauty for what it is . . . all of these things ultimately bring you happiness.
Life is too short to spend it unhappy.
I want you to notice that I am using happiness--not pleasure--as a synonym of joy. In The Art of Happiness, the Dalai Lama distinguishes between these two often confused feelings. Pleasure is temporary; happiness is long lasting. Things that bring you immediate pleasure may or may not contribute to your long-term happiness. This is where addicts get into trouble: they equate the momentary pleasure of their fix with true happiness, and in fact find themselves more and more miserable as time goes on. Lying to get out of a punishment might increase your temporary pleasure (by feeling like you got away with something), but remember, any action that does not lead you to be the person you want to be can never result in true, long-term happiness. Eating a third helping of chocolate cake can (and probably will!) increase your temporary pleasure, but the resulting stomach ache--or weight/waist gain--will not give you long-term happiness. So finding your joy in life is not about pursuing temporary pleasures, not about immediate gratification. Finding your joy in life is about knowing what makes you truly happy, what makes you feel realized, what makes your soul sing . . . and going after it.
As you grow and learn about yourself, about what your happiness, your joy, actually is, you'll discover that it is wholly unique to you. Everyone has a different joy. It is imperative that you remember that another person's joy does NOT have to be your joy, no matter what they tell you. This goes for your friends as well as your family (including me, darling baby, and your father). Your grandparents and I have very different ideas about what brings us joy. They cannot imagine a more fulfilling, enriching experience than music and art; these pursuits bring them their joy. Your father and I never found that same joy in these pursuits; I have always found joy in sports, in achievement and teamwork and success, and your father and I together have always found joy in traveling, in seeing new, incredible, exotic sights and learning about other people and other cultures. My goal as your mother is to introduce as many possible joys to you as I can and to let you decide for yourself which of them is YOUR joy, which of them brings YOU your ultimate happiness.
Never let someone tell you that your joy is wrong.
Never let someone tell you that your joy isn't good enough.
When you find your joy, when you discover what it is that makes your soul sing, pursue it relentlessly. But here's the key: never let it lose it's meaning to you. Don't allow your joy to become a chore.
When I first went to college, I took a softball scholarship to a small college about 3 hours away from your father. At the time, softball was my joy. But when I got to that college, softball became my job. I was no longer playing because it brought me happiness. It was no longer simply the game of my youth, played on fields in warm Texas summer twilights. It became scientific. It became a battle. It became a stress. I transferred to your father's college after one semester and didn't play another game for nearly 10 years. I knew I wanted to keep that joy, didn't want for it to become something I hated, something I resented. So I gave it up until the point I could get back to playing it for the pure pleasure of the game, for the fun times spent with friends, for the thrill of the close play at home plate.
Similarly, never allow yourself to take your joy for granted. It's easy to stop paying as much attention to something that becomes routine in your life. When something is new and shiny and exciting, you'll find no trouble in spinning yourself in that joy, arms outstretched, beautiful smile on your face. But when that thing is a part of your daily life, it's easy to forget what a blessing it is. So try, baby girl, as hard as you can, to stop every day and remember the wonder of having that joy in your life. Remember to be grateful. Remember to appreciate the awesome blessings that you have. Remember to spin in the sunlight with your arms outstretched, to dance in the joy you have found.
This, I think, is the meaning of life.
Finding joy.
Being joyful.
Life is too short, and too precious, for anything else.
And really, all of those other aspects, all those other things I've either talked about or have failed to mention, all of them can in some way be tied back to your joy. Being a good person, acting in such a way that you accomplish your goals, appreciating beauty for what it is . . . all of these things ultimately bring you happiness.
Life is too short to spend it unhappy.
I want you to notice that I am using happiness--not pleasure--as a synonym of joy. In The Art of Happiness, the Dalai Lama distinguishes between these two often confused feelings. Pleasure is temporary; happiness is long lasting. Things that bring you immediate pleasure may or may not contribute to your long-term happiness. This is where addicts get into trouble: they equate the momentary pleasure of their fix with true happiness, and in fact find themselves more and more miserable as time goes on. Lying to get out of a punishment might increase your temporary pleasure (by feeling like you got away with something), but remember, any action that does not lead you to be the person you want to be can never result in true, long-term happiness. Eating a third helping of chocolate cake can (and probably will!) increase your temporary pleasure, but the resulting stomach ache--or weight/waist gain--will not give you long-term happiness. So finding your joy in life is not about pursuing temporary pleasures, not about immediate gratification. Finding your joy in life is about knowing what makes you truly happy, what makes you feel realized, what makes your soul sing . . . and going after it.
As you grow and learn about yourself, about what your happiness, your joy, actually is, you'll discover that it is wholly unique to you. Everyone has a different joy. It is imperative that you remember that another person's joy does NOT have to be your joy, no matter what they tell you. This goes for your friends as well as your family (including me, darling baby, and your father). Your grandparents and I have very different ideas about what brings us joy. They cannot imagine a more fulfilling, enriching experience than music and art; these pursuits bring them their joy. Your father and I never found that same joy in these pursuits; I have always found joy in sports, in achievement and teamwork and success, and your father and I together have always found joy in traveling, in seeing new, incredible, exotic sights and learning about other people and other cultures. My goal as your mother is to introduce as many possible joys to you as I can and to let you decide for yourself which of them is YOUR joy, which of them brings YOU your ultimate happiness.
Never let someone tell you that your joy is wrong.
Never let someone tell you that your joy isn't good enough.
When you find your joy, when you discover what it is that makes your soul sing, pursue it relentlessly. But here's the key: never let it lose it's meaning to you. Don't allow your joy to become a chore.
When I first went to college, I took a softball scholarship to a small college about 3 hours away from your father. At the time, softball was my joy. But when I got to that college, softball became my job. I was no longer playing because it brought me happiness. It was no longer simply the game of my youth, played on fields in warm Texas summer twilights. It became scientific. It became a battle. It became a stress. I transferred to your father's college after one semester and didn't play another game for nearly 10 years. I knew I wanted to keep that joy, didn't want for it to become something I hated, something I resented. So I gave it up until the point I could get back to playing it for the pure pleasure of the game, for the fun times spent with friends, for the thrill of the close play at home plate.
Similarly, never allow yourself to take your joy for granted. It's easy to stop paying as much attention to something that becomes routine in your life. When something is new and shiny and exciting, you'll find no trouble in spinning yourself in that joy, arms outstretched, beautiful smile on your face. But when that thing is a part of your daily life, it's easy to forget what a blessing it is. So try, baby girl, as hard as you can, to stop every day and remember the wonder of having that joy in your life. Remember to be grateful. Remember to appreciate the awesome blessings that you have. Remember to spin in the sunlight with your arms outstretched, to dance in the joy you have found.
This, I think, is the meaning of life.
Finding joy.
Being joyful.
Life is too short, and too precious, for anything else.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
The Nursery
Sorry if the pics are dark . . . I'm no photographer. :-) Enjoy!
This is the wall to the right of the doorway.
The back wall of the room.
These are the letters TH painted for Ali.
The view of the far side of the room from the recliner.
The poem over the changing table.
The closet area.
And the final touch . . . a "Starry Night" night light.
This is the view from the doorway.
This is the wall to the right of the doorway.
The back wall of the room.
These are the letters TH painted for Ali.
The view of the far side of the room from the recliner.
The poem over the changing table.
The closet area.
And the final touch . . . a "Starry Night" night light.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
36 Weeks
36 weeks seems kind of like a limbo week . . . we had the wonderful 35/35 milestone last week, which, though ultimately meaningless, is a fun day to note regardless. And six short days from now we'll hit 37 weeks, FULL TERM by most measures. 36 six weeks sits right in the middle, almost full term, but not quite, kind of like the back straightaway on a track . . . you know you still have that last curve to go before you reach the finish line, so you're not gearing up for the final push quite yet, but you're . . . gearing up for gearing up, but still holding yourself back for fear of peaking too early. Like I said: limbo.
The most notable occurrence to mark this week was that we began our weekly doctor's visits yesterday! I have to say I am excited to finally be at this point. With my anxiety on the rise and the end so near in sight, if I have any questions that arise at this late point, I only have to wait six days before I'll get to see the doctor again, before I get to feel reassured by seeing my squirmy, wiggly, healthy daughter on the screen.
With the onset of our weekly appointments, we have also begun our internal exams where they check me for any signs of progress towards labor!! TH and I firmly believed we would have ZERO progress at our appointment yesterday . . . in fact, I was (am?) convinced that I would deliver late. My body has dealt with this pregnancy so well, and I've been so comfortable, that I had no trouble imagining my body continuing to deal comfortably with the pregnancy far beyond my due date. The exam itself wasn't too bad at all, and I was shocked to hear the nurse say my cervix had "progressed about a fingertip." Um, a fingertip dilated?? I know in the world of labor and delivery dilation and effacement really have little predictive indications of when baby girl will be making her appearance, but you still could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard that I had, indeed, made a teeny-tiny bit of progress in that direction.
I guess I should not have been so surprised, though. The other bit of news we found out is that baby girl is once again HUGE. Her brief pause in her tremendous growth two weeks ago was merely that--a pause, perhaps a joke she played on her mom and dad just to throw us off our game. She is back in the 95%, her HEAD is measuring more than three weeks ahead, and her tummy and legs are not far behind. That's right. Her head is already measuring 39+ weeks. Good grief. I knew I'd been a little more hungry than normal in the last couple of weeks, but that kind of growth spurt is ridiculous! The thing I hold onto is that growth estimates can be off by as much as a pound, and usually they measure bigger/heavier than the baby actually is.
So, my big, healthy girl is weighing in at 8 lbs, 1 oz. at 36 weeks!! Now I just have to keep my fingers crossed she decides she is done cooking either early or on time. I do not need her to keep packing on the pounds well after her due date, as that could create complications around the actual delivery. My doctor is fine letting me attempt a 10-pound baby (and the nurse complemented me on my "very roomy pelvis," so I am in as good a shape as possible to attempt such a feat), but anything bigger that and they start to talk surgery.
We had our final shower over the weekend, a small, family gathering at my house. It was wonderful to get to see my cousins and grandparents, my aunt, my mom and step-mom, my sister, and a couple close friends of our family who live in the area. We finished off the nursery, hanging the final touch--Alina's name letters that TH painted himself--just before the first guests started to arrive. I can't believe her little home is finally ready for her! The shower provided us with the final few pieces of gear that we needed, including our pack-and-play and our swing (yay!), and we are planning on making our last runs to the store to get those other few details we still need sometime this weekend. We made it to the end of our busy stretch of traveling, guests, and showers, and from here on out we can just focus on getting our house, our lives, and our minds and bodies ready for Ali!
Here are the stats for this week:
How far along?: 36 weeks
Total weight gain: 21 lbs
How big is baby?: 8 lbs . . . yowza!
Maternity clothes?: lmao . . . I'm toting around an 8-pounder in here. What do you think???
Stretch marks?: I know there's still time, but nothing yet and my fingers are crossed!!!
Sleep?: getting more and more uncomfortable. I have upped my necessary pillow count (finally broke down and stole TH's pillow to add to my stack last night and made him get another one) and spend the night rolling my girth from one side to the other, massaging my poor hips and praying that I can just find sleep for more than 3 hour stretches at a time. This must all be preparation for life with a newborn! The nice part is that I'm so tired by the end of the day that I am falling asleep faster than ever . . . I'm usually asleep before the nightly song we play for her ends!
Best moment this week?: Hearing that progress has been made, discussing our birth plan with our doctor and feeling that he is completely supportive of our wishes 100%!
Movement?: Poor baby is running out of room. I still feel her all the time . . . it's just not as acrobatic as it used to be.
Food cravings?: No cravings, but I seemed to have returned to something reminiscent of my first-tri eating habits. Nothing really sounds appetizing, I can't eat much in one sitting, and I have to eat more frequently or else I feel nauseated. Must be something about my stomach being squished into oblivion in order to accommodate my ginormous baby . . .
Labor signs?: Holy cow. I am a fingertip dilated. My crotch has been sore for weeks, which the doc said is the chemical relaxin helping my pelvis get bigger, and I have random shooting pains and menstrual-like cramps off and on all day. No contractions yet, but like I said before . . . gearing up to the final push. Oh, and I leaked. From my boob. Yeah. I know it's not a labor sign, but I didn't know where else to note that event. Kinda crazy.
Belly button in or out?: Still in for the most part. Maybe it'll never pop??
What I miss: Being able to sit down (or stand up) without grunting.
What I'm looking forward to: getting all the final details ironed out: assembling all her gear, packing our hospital bag . . . how exciting!
Milestone: Into our weekly appointments and officially less than one month to go!
The most notable occurrence to mark this week was that we began our weekly doctor's visits yesterday! I have to say I am excited to finally be at this point. With my anxiety on the rise and the end so near in sight, if I have any questions that arise at this late point, I only have to wait six days before I'll get to see the doctor again, before I get to feel reassured by seeing my squirmy, wiggly, healthy daughter on the screen.
With the onset of our weekly appointments, we have also begun our internal exams where they check me for any signs of progress towards labor!! TH and I firmly believed we would have ZERO progress at our appointment yesterday . . . in fact, I was (am?) convinced that I would deliver late. My body has dealt with this pregnancy so well, and I've been so comfortable, that I had no trouble imagining my body continuing to deal comfortably with the pregnancy far beyond my due date. The exam itself wasn't too bad at all, and I was shocked to hear the nurse say my cervix had "progressed about a fingertip." Um, a fingertip dilated?? I know in the world of labor and delivery dilation and effacement really have little predictive indications of when baby girl will be making her appearance, but you still could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard that I had, indeed, made a teeny-tiny bit of progress in that direction.
I guess I should not have been so surprised, though. The other bit of news we found out is that baby girl is once again HUGE. Her brief pause in her tremendous growth two weeks ago was merely that--a pause, perhaps a joke she played on her mom and dad just to throw us off our game. She is back in the 95%, her HEAD is measuring more than three weeks ahead, and her tummy and legs are not far behind. That's right. Her head is already measuring 39+ weeks. Good grief. I knew I'd been a little more hungry than normal in the last couple of weeks, but that kind of growth spurt is ridiculous! The thing I hold onto is that growth estimates can be off by as much as a pound, and usually they measure bigger/heavier than the baby actually is.
So, my big, healthy girl is weighing in at 8 lbs, 1 oz. at 36 weeks!! Now I just have to keep my fingers crossed she decides she is done cooking either early or on time. I do not need her to keep packing on the pounds well after her due date, as that could create complications around the actual delivery. My doctor is fine letting me attempt a 10-pound baby (and the nurse complemented me on my "very roomy pelvis," so I am in as good a shape as possible to attempt such a feat), but anything bigger that and they start to talk surgery.
We had our final shower over the weekend, a small, family gathering at my house. It was wonderful to get to see my cousins and grandparents, my aunt, my mom and step-mom, my sister, and a couple close friends of our family who live in the area. We finished off the nursery, hanging the final touch--Alina's name letters that TH painted himself--just before the first guests started to arrive. I can't believe her little home is finally ready for her! The shower provided us with the final few pieces of gear that we needed, including our pack-and-play and our swing (yay!), and we are planning on making our last runs to the store to get those other few details we still need sometime this weekend. We made it to the end of our busy stretch of traveling, guests, and showers, and from here on out we can just focus on getting our house, our lives, and our minds and bodies ready for Ali!
Here are the stats for this week:
How far along?: 36 weeks
Total weight gain: 21 lbs
How big is baby?: 8 lbs . . . yowza!
Maternity clothes?: lmao . . . I'm toting around an 8-pounder in here. What do you think???
Stretch marks?: I know there's still time, but nothing yet and my fingers are crossed!!!
Sleep?: getting more and more uncomfortable. I have upped my necessary pillow count (finally broke down and stole TH's pillow to add to my stack last night and made him get another one) and spend the night rolling my girth from one side to the other, massaging my poor hips and praying that I can just find sleep for more than 3 hour stretches at a time. This must all be preparation for life with a newborn! The nice part is that I'm so tired by the end of the day that I am falling asleep faster than ever . . . I'm usually asleep before the nightly song we play for her ends!
Best moment this week?: Hearing that progress has been made, discussing our birth plan with our doctor and feeling that he is completely supportive of our wishes 100%!
Movement?: Poor baby is running out of room. I still feel her all the time . . . it's just not as acrobatic as it used to be.
Food cravings?: No cravings, but I seemed to have returned to something reminiscent of my first-tri eating habits. Nothing really sounds appetizing, I can't eat much in one sitting, and I have to eat more frequently or else I feel nauseated. Must be something about my stomach being squished into oblivion in order to accommodate my ginormous baby . . .
Labor signs?: Holy cow. I am a fingertip dilated. My crotch has been sore for weeks, which the doc said is the chemical relaxin helping my pelvis get bigger, and I have random shooting pains and menstrual-like cramps off and on all day. No contractions yet, but like I said before . . . gearing up to the final push. Oh, and I leaked. From my boob. Yeah. I know it's not a labor sign, but I didn't know where else to note that event. Kinda crazy.
Belly button in or out?: Still in for the most part. Maybe it'll never pop??
What I miss: Being able to sit down (or stand up) without grunting.
What I'm looking forward to: getting all the final details ironed out: assembling all her gear, packing our hospital bag . . . how exciting!
Milestone: Into our weekly appointments and officially less than one month to go!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Yowza!
Behold the "Mommy View":
Hehehe . . . no wonder I get wide-eyed stares from people I haven't seen in a while. This is quite the change from my tri days. :-)
Hehehe . . . no wonder I get wide-eyed stares from people I haven't seen in a while. This is quite the change from my tri days. :-)
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Lumps, Drips, and Leaks
This post is alternatively titled, "The Glamor of the 3rd Trimester."
On Lumps:
My stomach is no longer the smooth, round beach ball it has been for the last several months. Ali is getting so big in there, she's starting to poke out all over the place. A butt up here. A leg over there. A foot or elbow to the side. It's starting to look and feel like a cat in a pillow case.
On Drips:
Have I gotten messier? Has pregnancy made me a sloppy eater? I swear I dribble more now than I ever did pre-pregnancy. I wonder if it's because I have to sit a full foot farther back from the table than ever before, or if this is simply some strange manifestation of pregnancy brain for me . . . pregnancy messy eater syndrome.
On Leaks:
It's true. I hate to admit it, but I leak now. No, not a steady flow (it's NOT amniotic fluid, so let's all relax). It's just a little wet spot in the front of my undies when I have to go pee really bad (which is about every hour or so), especially if I sneeze when I have to go pee really bad.
I'm a lumpy, drippy, leaky pregnant woman.
Hawt.
On Lumps:
My stomach is no longer the smooth, round beach ball it has been for the last several months. Ali is getting so big in there, she's starting to poke out all over the place. A butt up here. A leg over there. A foot or elbow to the side. It's starting to look and feel like a cat in a pillow case.
On Drips:
Have I gotten messier? Has pregnancy made me a sloppy eater? I swear I dribble more now than I ever did pre-pregnancy. I wonder if it's because I have to sit a full foot farther back from the table than ever before, or if this is simply some strange manifestation of pregnancy brain for me . . . pregnancy messy eater syndrome.
On Leaks:
It's true. I hate to admit it, but I leak now. No, not a steady flow (it's NOT amniotic fluid, so let's all relax). It's just a little wet spot in the front of my undies when I have to go pee really bad (which is about every hour or so), especially if I sneeze when I have to go pee really bad.
I'm a lumpy, drippy, leaky pregnant woman.
Hawt.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
I is for Integrity
"Real integrity is doing the right thing, knowing that nobody's going to know whether you did it or not." --Oprah Winfrey
"Honesty is doing the right thing when others are watching. Integrity is doing the right thing even if nobody is watching."
"Honesty is doing the right thing when others are watching. Integrity is doing the right thing even if nobody is watching."
There are many, many different sayings about integrity, but they all have the same general gist. Integrity is something private, something personal. Integrity is doing the right thing simply because it IS the right thing. Not for personal gain. Not for recognition. Just because it's the right thing to do.
This is hard. HARD.
It also begs the question, why?? Why do something hard, something that might very well set you back, simply because you "should," even when no one will ever know the difference?
There's not an easy answer to this question.
The first thing you have to consider is this "right vs wrong" business, as in "doing the right thing." Right according to whom? You might agree with the other millions of people on the planet and say "God," but I have a slightly different take on it. I say that it is "right" according to you.
Let's take a step back. The first thing you have to consider is what your goal is. Take something basic like a road trip: are you trying to get to California or Florida? If you're trying to get to California, heading east from Texas is the "wrong" direction. But if your goal is to get to Florida, that same action is now considered "right." The same logic applies to every other action as well. If your goal is to become the world's greatest con-artist, certain actions will be "right" to get you there. Conversely, if your goal is to become the next Mother Teresa, a different set of actions will be "right." If your goal is to follow a religious doctrine, there will be one prescribed set of "right" actions. And so on.
So, the first step is knowing what your goal is. Knowing who you are. Knowing who you want to be. Because you get to decide that, remember? Who you want to be. It's up to you.
The second step is realizing that it's your actions, not your words, that define you. You can talk until you're blue in the face, but until you start behaving in a way that demonstrates, that backs up, your actions, you're not actually creating that reality. You're just talking about it. In fact, if your behavior does NOT back up your words, then you are in fact creating a different reality, quite possibly the opposite of the one you say you are trying to achieve. If we use our road trip example, if you say you are trying to get to Florida, even if you tell any soul within a 10-mile radius who will listen that you are trying to get to Florida, but you head toward California instead, or even just sit there and talk about Florida but never actually move towards it . . . then the reality that you've created with your actions is that you're NOT actually trying to get to Florida.
In my opinion, in my life, I've decided that I want to be an honest, loving individual who celebrates life and who helps others have the same opportunity. That's step one. Step two is acting in such a way that reinforces, that creates, this reality.
And this is where integrity comes in.
It's one thing to tell the truth, to return the lost item, to give back the thing that doesn't belong to you when someone confronts you about these things. And that behavior is an important first step! That goes back to our honesty talk. But it's another thing altogether to tell the truth, return the lost item, or give back the thing that doesn't belong to you when no one confronts you, when really no one even knows but you. But remember: it's your actions that ultimately define you, that ultimately create your reality. If you are serious about your goal, whatever goal that may be, your actions must stay true to that goal no matter what.
Be the person you want to be. It is as simple, and as difficult, as that.
And in order to do that, in order to truly create that reality, to truly BE that person, you must act, you must live, with integrity.
Monday, August 10, 2009
35/35
Another fun milestone!
Today I am 35 weeks pregnant and I have only 35 days to go. Wow!
I was thinking the other day that it might be fun to be able to know when you ACTUALLY have 35 days to go . . . really Ali would be considered "on time" if she came anywhere within a four week window from 37 weeks to 41 weeks. Today's milestone might be more mind-blowing if it actually meant 35 days from right now you will have a baby (though it would likely lack the fun symetry of numbers). But then I think that it's really the unknown that is exciting, too, the idea that you don't know when she'll make her appearance, the anticipation of the surprise. Anyway, back on track . . .
Time has been moving so quickly now. I guess it helps only having 4-day work weeks and a shower every weekend to look forward to.
Speaking of showers, I had a fantastic shower over the weekend! I got a chance to hang out with all my girlfriends, something I haven't gotten to do in quite some time. The shower was right up my alley--laid back, fun, delicious food (mmmm, mini quiches), fun activities and funny games. There was a onesie-decorating station where everyone made Ali a personalized T-shirt or onesie; I can't wait to get those on her and think of the person who made each one! We also played a "Price is Right" game where we had to guess the price of various common baby items . . . after 13 total items, I was more than $24 off! The good news is that I was consistenly guessing high . . . looks like babies will be cheaper than I was preparing myself for. Yay!
We have one more small shower this weekend with my family, and after that, the only thing left to do will be wait. Hopefully my plan of working right up until I go into labor will help keep me busy enough to feel like time continues to trip by.
35/35. What a wonderful day, what a wonderful place to be!
Today I am 35 weeks pregnant and I have only 35 days to go. Wow!
I was thinking the other day that it might be fun to be able to know when you ACTUALLY have 35 days to go . . . really Ali would be considered "on time" if she came anywhere within a four week window from 37 weeks to 41 weeks. Today's milestone might be more mind-blowing if it actually meant 35 days from right now you will have a baby (though it would likely lack the fun symetry of numbers). But then I think that it's really the unknown that is exciting, too, the idea that you don't know when she'll make her appearance, the anticipation of the surprise. Anyway, back on track . . .
Time has been moving so quickly now. I guess it helps only having 4-day work weeks and a shower every weekend to look forward to.
Speaking of showers, I had a fantastic shower over the weekend! I got a chance to hang out with all my girlfriends, something I haven't gotten to do in quite some time. The shower was right up my alley--laid back, fun, delicious food (mmmm, mini quiches), fun activities and funny games. There was a onesie-decorating station where everyone made Ali a personalized T-shirt or onesie; I can't wait to get those on her and think of the person who made each one! We also played a "Price is Right" game where we had to guess the price of various common baby items . . . after 13 total items, I was more than $24 off! The good news is that I was consistenly guessing high . . . looks like babies will be cheaper than I was preparing myself for. Yay!
We have one more small shower this weekend with my family, and after that, the only thing left to do will be wait. Hopefully my plan of working right up until I go into labor will help keep me busy enough to feel like time continues to trip by.
35/35. What a wonderful day, what a wonderful place to be!
Friday, August 7, 2009
On Getting Closer...
Dearest Little Alina,
Today I am 34 weeks, 4 days pregnant. There are less than 40 days to go until your estimated arrival, which I am thinking will happen anywhere within a one-week window on either side of that target date. I had my last non-weekly appointment this week, and it was amazing. You have turned once again and are head down. We got to see the perfect curve of your head sitting directly against my cervix, in the perfect position for entering the world. (I knew you were head down before our appointment, though, because I could feel your cute little hiccups way down low.) You slowed your stellar growth a bit, measuring in the 65% this time, with only your legs measuring substantially ahead, just the way I would have taught you to approach all tasks in life--overachieve in the beginning, get ahead, and then relax and coast to the finish line. You make me so very proud.
And you have given me the confidence boost I needed to believe that I could handle your entrance into the world. Yes, the clinical idea of labor and delivery intimidate me, the details of what exactly is going to happen. But I know my body will be able to handle your perfect estimated 8.5 lbs, and I am excited that the experience is drawing closer! I have already planned on bringing a picture of you with me when we go to the hospital. I know that no matter what happens, keeping you in front of me will keep me motivated, will remind me that it is worth every ounce of effort it takes to get to, and cross, that finish line.
As the time for us to meet face to face draws near, I am still loving every second of being pregnant. To be honest, it is no longer as easy to function normally as it had been up to this point. Turning over in bed has become quite the production. I turn in stages, first extricating my shoulders from the body pillow I have wrapped around myself and and turning them, and then my hips, about halfway, then swinging the little wedge pillow that keeps you propped up to my other side, before finally turning my shoulders, and then hips, fully to the other side and re-wrapping the body pillow around me. I have good nights and bad nights. On good nights I can sleep two or three hours per side before needing to flip over. On bad nights, I flip almost every hour. I know your dad must be awoken by the heavy moving, but he never says anything other than asking if my hips need rubbing.
I'm starting to feel sore in my pelvis area, as if I just got back from a 50-mile bike ride. I wonder if that's pressure from you starting to descend, or a result of my hips opening, or both. You still haven't caused me any direct pain, have never kicked me in the ribs. You are sitting on my colon, however, which has caused a noticeable decrease in the frequency of my bathroom needs. But I still pee 10 or so times a day.
My ankles have started to swell, which no one is surprised by considering it has been 100+ degrees here for the last several months and considering I have a desk job which keeps me seated for the better portion of the day. I watch their daily progress with a kind of fascination, from small and normal in the morning to puffy and bloated as the day wears on, and I wonder if, in the next five weeks, they will get to a point that is scary.
My belly button, though stretched, is still an inny, and when you move in a certain position inside me, it sinks back to early-to-mid second trimester levels. And sometimes, on special days, you find the inside of it and tickle me.
It is amazing to feel you move inside me, movements that are now slower and more constricted than your flipping and turning has been for the last several months. I can tell you are starting to run out of room in there! You have already developed your own little schedule. I can count on you to be sluggish in the mornings, like your daddy, moving but not really energetic. You take a nap around 11 and around 1, and then at 3, you finally decide that the day is worth celebrating and you have your very own little dance party in there! You are content through the evening hours and tend to perk up a bit when it's bed time . . . again, a night owl, just like your dad. But once we are settled and in for the night, you and I both sleep soundly.
So, yes, there are signs of discomfort developing, all pointing to your impending arrival. And I note every discomfort, every extra effort, with fascination and awe. YOU are doing these things to my body. You, my daughter, the one I am growing inside me. How amazing. I look at my big, round belly a hundred times a day and just smile. What an amazing thing it is to be carrying you.
Your nursery is 98% done! The only thing that remains is getting your name letters pained and hung on the wall above your crib. It is my favorite room in the house, and I go in at least once a day and just look around, smiling. It is also Icarus, your furry brother's, favorite room in the house! He just loves the recliner we bought for you, and he begs at the door to be let in every time I'm anywhere near that part of the house. Loki, your other furry brother, just likes to go in the room and sit, taking it all in.
As the finish line draws closer, I can feel a return of my first pregnancy symptom: worry. This always happens to me as something wonderful draws nigh--I start feeling like my life is too good to be true, and surely something will happen to bring it crashing down around me. I worried about something happening to your dad in the weeks leading up to our wedding. Now I worry about something happening to him, something that would rob you of his incredible presence, and I worry about something happening to you. You are so close to us. So close to being outside, in our arms. So close to being here for us to smell and nuzzle and kiss and comfort. My anxiety over that all being taken from me at the last second is on the rise. I try to take deep, calming breaths (sometimes more difficult than others when you are pushing up against my lungs!) and just trust that you are as healthy as you have ever been, that my body, and your body, are doing exactly what they need to do, and that you and I will meet, finally, face to face, in less than 40 days.
With endless love, and excitement, and worry, and awe,
Mom
Today I am 34 weeks, 4 days pregnant. There are less than 40 days to go until your estimated arrival, which I am thinking will happen anywhere within a one-week window on either side of that target date. I had my last non-weekly appointment this week, and it was amazing. You have turned once again and are head down. We got to see the perfect curve of your head sitting directly against my cervix, in the perfect position for entering the world. (I knew you were head down before our appointment, though, because I could feel your cute little hiccups way down low.) You slowed your stellar growth a bit, measuring in the 65% this time, with only your legs measuring substantially ahead, just the way I would have taught you to approach all tasks in life--overachieve in the beginning, get ahead, and then relax and coast to the finish line. You make me so very proud.
And you have given me the confidence boost I needed to believe that I could handle your entrance into the world. Yes, the clinical idea of labor and delivery intimidate me, the details of what exactly is going to happen. But I know my body will be able to handle your perfect estimated 8.5 lbs, and I am excited that the experience is drawing closer! I have already planned on bringing a picture of you with me when we go to the hospital. I know that no matter what happens, keeping you in front of me will keep me motivated, will remind me that it is worth every ounce of effort it takes to get to, and cross, that finish line.
As the time for us to meet face to face draws near, I am still loving every second of being pregnant. To be honest, it is no longer as easy to function normally as it had been up to this point. Turning over in bed has become quite the production. I turn in stages, first extricating my shoulders from the body pillow I have wrapped around myself and and turning them, and then my hips, about halfway, then swinging the little wedge pillow that keeps you propped up to my other side, before finally turning my shoulders, and then hips, fully to the other side and re-wrapping the body pillow around me. I have good nights and bad nights. On good nights I can sleep two or three hours per side before needing to flip over. On bad nights, I flip almost every hour. I know your dad must be awoken by the heavy moving, but he never says anything other than asking if my hips need rubbing.
I'm starting to feel sore in my pelvis area, as if I just got back from a 50-mile bike ride. I wonder if that's pressure from you starting to descend, or a result of my hips opening, or both. You still haven't caused me any direct pain, have never kicked me in the ribs. You are sitting on my colon, however, which has caused a noticeable decrease in the frequency of my bathroom needs. But I still pee 10 or so times a day.
My ankles have started to swell, which no one is surprised by considering it has been 100+ degrees here for the last several months and considering I have a desk job which keeps me seated for the better portion of the day. I watch their daily progress with a kind of fascination, from small and normal in the morning to puffy and bloated as the day wears on, and I wonder if, in the next five weeks, they will get to a point that is scary.
My belly button, though stretched, is still an inny, and when you move in a certain position inside me, it sinks back to early-to-mid second trimester levels. And sometimes, on special days, you find the inside of it and tickle me.
It is amazing to feel you move inside me, movements that are now slower and more constricted than your flipping and turning has been for the last several months. I can tell you are starting to run out of room in there! You have already developed your own little schedule. I can count on you to be sluggish in the mornings, like your daddy, moving but not really energetic. You take a nap around 11 and around 1, and then at 3, you finally decide that the day is worth celebrating and you have your very own little dance party in there! You are content through the evening hours and tend to perk up a bit when it's bed time . . . again, a night owl, just like your dad. But once we are settled and in for the night, you and I both sleep soundly.
So, yes, there are signs of discomfort developing, all pointing to your impending arrival. And I note every discomfort, every extra effort, with fascination and awe. YOU are doing these things to my body. You, my daughter, the one I am growing inside me. How amazing. I look at my big, round belly a hundred times a day and just smile. What an amazing thing it is to be carrying you.
Your nursery is 98% done! The only thing that remains is getting your name letters pained and hung on the wall above your crib. It is my favorite room in the house, and I go in at least once a day and just look around, smiling. It is also Icarus, your furry brother's, favorite room in the house! He just loves the recliner we bought for you, and he begs at the door to be let in every time I'm anywhere near that part of the house. Loki, your other furry brother, just likes to go in the room and sit, taking it all in.
As the finish line draws closer, I can feel a return of my first pregnancy symptom: worry. This always happens to me as something wonderful draws nigh--I start feeling like my life is too good to be true, and surely something will happen to bring it crashing down around me. I worried about something happening to your dad in the weeks leading up to our wedding. Now I worry about something happening to him, something that would rob you of his incredible presence, and I worry about something happening to you. You are so close to us. So close to being outside, in our arms. So close to being here for us to smell and nuzzle and kiss and comfort. My anxiety over that all being taken from me at the last second is on the rise. I try to take deep, calming breaths (sometimes more difficult than others when you are pushing up against my lungs!) and just trust that you are as healthy as you have ever been, that my body, and your body, are doing exactly what they need to do, and that you and I will meet, finally, face to face, in less than 40 days.
With endless love, and excitement, and worry, and awe,
Mom
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Maternity Pics
I have been so fortunate this pregnancy to have not only one, but TWO outstanding photographers take maternity pictures of me--one as a trade for services, and one to simply get more experience and build her portfolio out. Their styles are as different as they are innovative and breathtaking--how wonderful that I have pictures in both styles with which I can document this amazing and brief time of my life!
From Kristen Joy Photography:
And from Azini Photography (*note: you can check out the rest of the sneak peeks (haven't gotten ALL the pictures yet...) AND some pictures of our nursery (gasp!) if you follow the link):
From Kristen Joy Photography:
And from Azini Photography (*note: you can check out the rest of the sneak peeks (haven't gotten ALL the pictures yet...) AND some pictures of our nursery (gasp!) if you follow the link):
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