Nesting, Phase 1

8 weeks 2 days

We interrupt this whine and moan fest for a message from our sponsors. This pregnancy is brought to you by HGTV. And TLC. And Discovery Health. And the Food Network. Yeah, it's weird. The moment all those heightened levels of HCG and Progesterone hit my blood stream, I find myself pulled to cable television channels with themes about house & home & health. Without fail, shows like "Divine Design" and "A Baby Story" find their way back into my boob tube queue. It's almost like nesting comes early, and only in theoretical watch-it-don't-do-it form. I watch cooking shows but don't try to cook the food. I watch home makeovers and don't change a thing about my own abode. I fixate on high risk deliveries all the while praying for simple and low risk.

Not really sure what the deal is. I just know it happens. After the new bug makes his or her appearance, I'll lose interest in most of these shows and channels. I'll go back to watching the news, catching prime time dramas, and praying for other things, like SLEEP.

Ungrateful. And That's Okay.

8 weeks

So, what would you prefer? Want me to be honest, or peppy and PC? If you chose the latter option, I apologize. Not gonna happen. I believe, that while optimism is an important trait, so is honesty. And I think if someone reads this, and is in her first trimester just trying to survive, the last thing she needs me to do is tell her that I'm coming up roses, thinking every second about the miracle of life! Come, sweets. Let's commiserate. I won't judge you for having a natural reaction to difficult physical conditions! So, anyway, we're off and running...

I know some women really love being pregnant. They enjoy every day of the miracle of life, and they never complain. I can admire their goodness and light and all that, and in a way, I'm jealous, but I'd be a poser and a liar if I told you that's how I feel during pregnancy. Especially the dreaded first trimester. I hate feeling queasy. I hate being scared to drive anywhere because I toss my cookies if I ride in a car. It's a finicky, sickly, exhausting, uncomfortable, not-so-exciting period in this little miracle. So, for now, I do NOT love being pregnant. I am ungrateful and grumpy and really wishing I could just go to sleep and wake up at about 12 weeks along. I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.

Now that I've gotten that part is out of my system, on to the good stuff. First, believe it or not, this pregnancy has been easier, so far, than my pregnancy with Wyatt. I spend every day queasy or nauseous, but I've only thrown up a few times. With Wyatt, it was almost every day from weeks 6-14. So while I don't feel fantastic, I'll take it. Second, I've lost weight despite the lesser pukage. Like I said, I'm not PC. I'm female. I like this. Third, I'm getting Chipotle today! And I'm pretty sure I can eat it. I'm pretty sure it will stay where I put it. I could be wrong, but at least I'll be going down swinging. Fourth, we have an ultrasound on Wednesday. I love them. I'd get one once a week if they'd let me. Seriously. And fifth, I'm ridiculously lucky to be married to the kind of man who'll take charge of things when I'm feeling off. Who'll take our son on errands and out riding and out to garage to "help" with projects. Ryan rocks it in the responsible daddy department. He adores his son, loves spending time with him, and makes runs across town to places like Chipotle, monkey in tow, on his vacation, because his wife really really really wants to try eating one of her favorite foods. I'm a lucky girl, and for that, I hope to NEVER be ungrateful.

Gag me with a Spoon!

7 weeks, 2 days

If it was a beating heart that helped me feel more secure about the outcome of this pregnancy, it's the onslaught of morning sickness that has sealed the deal. Something can always go wrong, of course, but the most common thing would be a 1st trimester miscarriage. And the odds are increasingly in favor of success with every nauseous day that passes. As much as I hate this part, morning sickness is evidence of a healthy pregnancy. That doesn't mean if you don't get sick, your pregnancy isn't healthy; you just have no evidence either way. Sickness screams it from the roof tops. So in that regard, the bug and I are passing with flying colors.

This pregnancy is definitely different from with Wyatt, though. The queasiness and milder symptoms showed up earlier this time, but the all-out morning sickness hit later. (Which is a blessing, because if I'd followed my last pattern to a t, I would have been in the midst of the worst of it over Christmas.) And of course, I have a toddler this time around. That's the funny part, actually. My son is now playing pretend with the sounds of gagging and moaning. I even saw him this morning fake puking into a toy bucket! Holy cow, kid. You're a riot. Ryan's been home a lot over the holidays, so that's been great. But when Ryan's gone, it's pure comedy. When I'm at my worst, my son runs wild while I lay pretty helplessly on the couch. Last night, he found a box of tissues that he emptied all over the living room. Luckily, the hard parts come and go, so when I feel better, I can right at least the worst of the wrongs, ha. But my son is under a little less supervision than usual...

Hello, television nanny. What's up first? Handy Manny or the Backyardigans?

A Beating Heart

For the last few weeks, I've really wanted to blog about our latest news. Wyatt's gonna be a big brother! I've wanted to write down every little thought and feeling and physical change, and share the news on the forefront of my mind. But, thanks to the confidence-rocking miscarriage experience of a year ago, I decided to bite my tongue and wait. And wait. And wait. Every day felt like a week. Our goal: To see a strong heartbeat at our first ultrasound. Well, yesterday we saw just that. A heart rate of 154. Our little bug is thriving, so we're ready to tell the world. It's still early. A lot of people would wait longer. Hit more milestones. But I'm a writer. I need to write about milestones. I need to share, because keeping it inside hurts my head. There's a tiny little being with a beating heart hanging out in there, and I think she (hopeful thinking) is here to stay... well, until August at least. Then she gets to take up residence in the rest of the world.

So, changes. I've lost 8 pounds since I got knocked up. And, no way, I'm not dieting. I think the bod's just working really frickin' hard. I actually thought maybe it was twins, because I hadn't lost weight in the beginning with Wyatt until the morning sickness began. This time, I've only had a few bouts of nausea and sickness so far, but I'm dropping weight pretty fast. Who knows? Maybe it's a girl! Maybe that's the difference. Or maybe we really are having twins, and one was just hiding behind the other one in the ultrasound, haha.

I'm not shy about the fact that I'm hoping for a girl. I know that's not very PC. And I will obviously be madly in love with a little boy, too. But we're not planning on any more pregnancies after this one, so I'd really like to complete the set. Heh. And, while we're not quite ready to share our current name options yet, I have a girl's name I would really like to use. And I want to SHOP for a girl. They're superficial reasons, of course, but reasons nonetheless. And of course, mostly, I just want to experience being the mother of a girl. I want to give my parents their first granddaughter. Yep. A definite preference. Sue me.

I think that's all for now. I hope you all have a fantastic Christmas! God bless us, every one. ;)

The Last Day: I'm Okay

Let me start by saying that I'm okay. I'm sad, and a little thrown for loop, but I'm not breaking down or cursing God or dwelling on what could have been. What I am doing is assessing and then continuing to function. The reason, if it's not obvious, is that I've had a miscarriage. Miscarriage is one of those words that almost seems vulgar to say in a public forum... cold, clinical, and maybe too much information. I said it differently on Facebook. I said, "Shannon thinks Facebook is a fun venue for sharing good news, but a terrible one for bad news. Sadly, she has the latter. She's not pregnant anymore. :(." But Facebook is a different forum, isn't it? It's vastly public, and it's about lots of people, not just about me. Somehow, even though I have an open blog, it seems a lot more right to talk about the experience here; where if someone's reading this, they've made a choice to find out more. They aren't just having the information thrown at them on a news feed.

Without falling into the too-much-information trap, I realized it was very likely I was miscarrying on Sunday morning. I was pretty upset, naturally. Confused. Not quite sure what was happening. Sad. I called an Advice Nurse, who suggested I go into an Urgent Care to make sure I wasn't having an ectopic pregnancy. I didn't go. I wasn't in pain, wasn't light-headed, having chills, or anything suggesting it was anything more than an early miscarriage. So I ignored the advice of the advice nurse. I slept for a big chunk of the day. I sat around. I wondered.

Monday was my birthday. I turned 32. I woke up to decaf coffee one button away from brewed with a note from my husband saying Happy Birthday. He'd done the dishes for me, too, and he'd taken the dog to work with him. I'm sure I've mentioned before that he's a keeper. I spent the morning on the phone with an advice nurse again, this time in order to make an appointment with my doctor for an ultrasound. I dropped Wyatt off with my friend Lesa, (thank you so much for the last-minute help, Lesa!) and met Ryan at the OB's office. The ultrasound showed an empty uterus. No evidence of pregnancy. So I got a blood test to measure my hcg levels. I'll have another blood test on Thursday, just to confirm that my levels are going down, but the doctor said that's it's highly unlikely that I'm still pregnant. Maybe a 5-10% chance at most, and I think that's being generous. I know in my heart that I'm not in that 5-10%. So, I spent the rest of the day having already come to terms with the loss. That evening, Ryan and I went out to eat for my birthday. Then I dragged him to the chickiest chick flick I could find. (Bride Wars. Have I mentioned that he's a keeper?) It was a very pleasant evening, despite the bittersweet tones of the day.

Today is just another day in the Kuhns house. I've had some very nice quality time with the munchkin, and I've already completed 9 out of the 15 things on my To Do list. I'm functioning. I'm peaceful. I'm okay.

Days Two - Five: Proof

It's been just under a week since I found out I'm having another munchkin. For the most part, I've just been walking around in a daze. The very beginning is kind of bizarre. I've been popping prenatal vitamins, cutting way down on caffeine, turning down wine at dinner, and, well, that's it. I haven't been all sick and miserable yet, which is great, but it also means the proof of my pregnancy is the digital display on a test that has already gone blank again. No proof. Well, until yesterday...

Yesterday morning, I went to clean up the first real dog mess since we got the puppy. My preggo nose caught a wiff and that was it. Sick. My husband came home from work for a bit just to clean up the mess and to take the puppy to work with him! He also brought me a decaf Starbucks. That's pretty high up there on the amazing guy scale, I think, eh? He's got how to pamper a preggie down to a science. After that, I went about my day, which included about a million errands. Wyatt was in and out of car seats, strollers and shopping carts all afternoon. One of those stops was to the Lab, where I had my official blood test done for the doc. Got my results back a couple hours later. Positive. Not that there was a question, but it always seems so much more real when the doctor tells you. So now I have my proof.

I'm also turning 32 on Monday, so there are a few little birthday things going on, including a visit from Andrea next weekend, which I'm really excited about! But nothing else related to the bun in the oven. In the 1st trimester, that's probably a good thing. Oh, and yesterday Wyatt learned how to say "Uh oh!". I don't think he actually knows what it means, but he says it all the time, which is pretty stinkin' cute. So that's where we're at. A happy little family with a whole lot to think about these days.

Day One: Again

I'm knocked up. Again. Whoa.

It's not like we didn't know there was a chance, but who in their 30s gets pregnant the very first month off the pill? Who's that stinkin' fertile? Well, evidently I am. I must have been built for another era... I would have been such a catch to some farmer in Arkansas in the 1940s who wanted about 18 kids to help him run the farm. Just imagine my potential, had I started young... Ha!

I told Ryan with a text message. It's not quite as lame as it sounds. I sent a series of pictures. First, a close-up of Wyatt saying, "Dad, I have something to tell you." Then a not-as-close-up picture of him wearing a big brother wife beater saying, "I'm gonna be a big brother!" And lastly, a picture of the Pregnant digital display of the pregnancy test saying, "Yes, that's what it means." He came home with balloons (one "boy", one "girl", which I hope simply say one or the other, and that they aren't an omen for twins, ha ha) and flowers, and we celebrated by going out to dinner. I had Panang Curry and wondered how much longer it'd be before I'd be eating saltine crackers and 7-up. Yum.

Needless to say, we're not really secret-keepers around here. I didn't wait until I started my 2nd trimester to tell everyone. In fact, it's already on my Facebook status, and I just found out today! I know, I know. It's probably smart to hold out for a bit - make sure everything sticks. But I'd die having to wait. And as soon as we can, we'll find out if we're having a boy or a girl, too. At that point, baby "it" will have a correct pronoun and a proper name (because we already have those picked out, too). That's just how we roll.

Yeah, it's a whole new experience the 2nd time around. I'm excited, but also filled with a mild sense of dread. You know, just about certain aspects of pregnancy (the 1st and 3rd trimesters) and certain things about the baby (the birth, the first 6 weeks of his/her existence, nursing again). Yeah, just some minor concerns... :) But then I look at Wyatt. At this little person with his own personality and those big blue eyes. And yeah, I think I can do this.

Again. :)

Jitters

Yesterday, I had yet another prenatal appointment. I'm now 1 1/2 cm dilated and 60% effaced. That's not too bad, especially because the doc said Wyatt's head is sitting really really low. The doc also stripped my membranes, which should help get things going, theoretically, because it's supposed to stimulate dilation and weaken the bag of water. But I've tried a lot things that are supposed to be the magic pill, and so far none of them have worked. So I guess I'm still not holding my breath. Oh, and I forgot to mention that I happily tested negative on the strep B test, so I won't need antibiotics during labor. Sweet. Good news, all of it.

But here's the thing. This whole time, I've been praying to go into labor ASAP. I still want it to happen soon, but it's starting to mess with my head a little bit. Last night, I tossed and turned. My brain would not turn off. Granted, part of the problem is also that my entire body is just achy and fatigued from carrying this million pound belly around. And the only fix for that is delivery. But still, it was the first time I thought, "Man, I might really go into labor tonight". And it freaked me out. I was actually kind of willing the morning to come without any drama. And it did. Did I jinx myself? I hope not. I really do want a March baby. That gives me 5 more days to work with. I can do this. I can do this...

The Stats: I'm 39 1/2 - 40 weeks pregnant. That puts my due date some time between TODAY and Saturday. 0-3 days. The big brick wall of induction hits in 13 days. I think it's time to start taking bets. Ante up, kids.

Single Digits

I dreamed last night that Wyatt was here. He was just a tiny bundle of cuteness, and I didn't want to put him down, even though my arm was sore from holding him so long and Ryan volunteered to carry him in his car seat for me. In reality, that was just the side I was sleeping on, of course, and my arm really was sore, but our little dude is still safely tucked away inside his Momma, waiting on his mysterious perfect timing. In the end, he's picking his birthday, not me.

Some interesting phenomena happen in the days surrounding your due date.:

First, you feel weird calling anyone, because when they see it's from you, they'll stop everything (regardless of what they're in the middle of) to take it, just in case you're in labor. So if you're just calling to chat, you've caused quite a stir!

Second, your friends and family all start putting in requests for when you should go into labor based on their own schedules. And of course we all know I have no control over it anyway, but I know there's this little something in their minds that thinks maybe if they just put it out there, Wyatt will go along with their request. It's sweet, in a way, because they'd all like to be a part of the big day and I totally appreciate that. But if I'm not careful, it can stress me out a little, too. A nice little reminder of how little control I have over it all!

Lastly, you inevitably end up psyching yourself out. Every contraction could be the first in a pattern this time. Every time you get out of bed to pee, you half expect your water to break as your rapidly change positions. Last night, I found myself pacing the hallway in the middle of the night, hoping the next step would be the one that kicked things into gear. Isn't it strange how even though a pregnant woman knows that labor and delivery are gonna be painful and messy and exhausting, she still begs for it to come now, now, now? I never understood that until I got to this point. But here I am, willing the pain to start. Go figure.

The stats: I'm 38 1/2 - 39 weeks pregnant. Even according to my original 3/29 due date, we're in the single digits now. 9 days. And there are only 6 days until the 3/26 due date. And, of course, there are 19 days until I get to the magical day where I'm 10 days past my due date and the doc says enough is enough. But of course, if it's up to me, I have absolutely no intention of getting to that day still pregnant!

St. Patrick's Day Hijinks, and Amish Babies!

Happy St. Patrick's Day, guys and gals! Last night, Ryan and I had corned beef and cabbage to celebrate. (Sadly, no Guinness to complete the Irish circle... a sacrificial gift to my unborn child. Although with a ton of Irish on both sides, maybe Wyatt would have enjoyed some spirits, haha.) We made a lot, so we'll have plenty to keep the tasty Irish food going today. We fixed it a night early because we're going to a party at our next door neighbors' house tonight. But lunch will definitely be Irish leftovers.




Every night, Ryan and I read from a pregnancy journal we got when we found out we had a baby coming back in July. We usually read it the night before the day it represents, so last night it said 12 days (referring, of course, to the time left to the original 3/29 due date). Is it just me, or is that a ridiculously short amount of time? Counting in weeks has been one thing, but now we're in days. And while I realize that I could easily go past my due date (please no!), he's coming really soon either way.


While I'm blogging, I feel like I should mention something about the book I'm reading right now. You may laugh at me or shake your head in dismay, but I'm reading a book called To Train Up a Child. It's a book about raising children based on a lot of the principles that the author observed in the Amish culture. And while I'm obviously more of a tattooed city girl at heart than an Amish mother, I do think there's something to be said for well-behaved children. And the Amish are known for their well-behaved children despite the fact that they don't scream and yell, and rarely need to use harsh punishments. That's pretty impressive. And so, I'm reading the book. It's actually really interesting. The very basic premise is that a well-trained (disciplined) child rarely needs punishment (which the author shows is not the same thing). So the key is early training, and obviously, consistency. And I'll be honest. There is a method to my obsession with well-disciplined children that goes way beyond the views of the Amish. I've found that children who haven't been well-disciplined spend more time unhappy (whining and tantrums and unnecessary boo boos from doing unsafe things aren't fun for them, either), and their parents very quickly lose their social lives. Because let's face it: how much time do you want to spend with people when their children are terrors? It's like a one-way ticket to family hermitdome. (Let's pretend that's a word.) That's something this tattooed city girl thinks is completely unnecessary, and that's why I'm hoping I'll be able to apply some good old fashioned Amish training to an otherwise modern and social family.


Anyway, here are the stats: I'm somewhere between 38wk 2d and 38wk 5d pregnant. That puts me at 9-12 days until my due date. And the longest we'll have to wait will be 22 days. Please send up a prayer that it'll be sooner rather than later. I'm really ready to be done with this pregnancy thing for a while!

Croi follain agus gob fliuch!

(A healthy heart and a wet mouth!)

The Days in Between

Well, the milestones I set up for myself have come and gone:

I had my strep B test on Monday and am expecting the results any day now. As I mentioned before, it'd be nice to get a negative result, and I probably will because only about 15-20% of women test positive, but I guess it isn't the end of the world if I need antibiotics during labor. I'd just prefer to avoid it.

Then, yesterday, I had a very nice prenatal massage, complete with uterine acupressure points to help get labor going. I had two somewhat uncomfortable contractions while I was on the massage table, and an increase in the little Braxton-Hicks throughout the day. And while that's encouraging, I seem to feel pretty normal today, so I'm not getting my hopes up. Speaking of... I'm having a Braxton-Hicks right now. Interesting. But I'm still not getting my hopes up.

The Stats: I'm 38 - 38 1/2 weeks along. 1 1/2 - 2 weeks until my due date. The doc said the latest they'd let me go past my later 3/29 due date is 10 days, so I guess the absolute last day I could still be preggo would be 4/8. Let's hope I don't go that long, because then I'd have to be induced, and I really don't want to be induced. So yeah... stay tuned...

Full Term (in Reverse)

Today, according to the furthest-off (and first) due date I've been given (3/29), I'm 37 weeks pregnant. That makes me full term. This is also the first weekend I haven't had plans in 6 weeks. In fact, I don't have anything on my calendar for the last 3 weekends leading up to my due date. I think that's part of the reason why I'm ready for this little guy to make his appearance. I had things going on all through the 3rd trimester that made the weeks fly, and now it's like I'm in a holding pattern. I've just blocked off a bunch of time and said "land here". And it's strange, because the closer I get to the due date, the further away it feels... like somehow I'm actually going backwards. Meanwhile, I think Ryan expects me to go into labor any minute now. Ah, the mystery of perceptions...

Big blingy diamond update: My fake ring lasted a week before turning my finger green. Way to go, Target. Jeez. So I think I'm just gonna go ringless until I pop this kid out. It was a nice idea, but clearly my real ring is the only ring for me. No cheap replacements for this married gal. (Insert sappy romantic sigh.)

Nested and Ready

Ready for a play-by-play on the last few days? I've been checking things off my list like crazy, and I think it's pretty safe to say I'm ready for this little munchkin to make his debut.

There are only two events that it might be nice to get to before he comes. But, they definitely aren't a must. The first is hopefully a negative on the Strep B test. That's on Monday. I'd like to avoid antibiotics during labor if at all possible. The second thing is my prenatal massage. I mean, who wants to miss a massage? That's on the 13th, and as I've mentioned before, my massage therapist is going to hit specific pressure points to help get labor started. I don't know how effective it will be, but I think a massage is a pretty stinkin' nice way to get the ball rolling!

Okay, now for the last few days... Saturday was my family/local baby shower. It was fun to get so many people together, and our friends and family spoiled Wyatt rotten, ha ha. Good stuff. The day after the shower, once we knew where we stood in the gear department, we went to Babies R Us and pretty much bought out the rest of our registry. We left the stuff for older babies, but made sure we had everything we'd need for a newborn. It feels really good to know we're prepared. I also did a bunch of laundry and put away all the cute (and a couple not so cute, haha) outfits away in his drawers and closet. Feathering the nest, I suppose.

Yesterday, I made my last little pre-baby road trip. I drove down to LA to spend the day with Talitha (and baby Riley!) and have lunch with Andrea. It was great to spend time with my friends and enjoy a day of independence, knowing that the next time I go down to see them, I'll have a little one in tow. Talitha will be my doula for the birth, so the next time I see her will probably be when Wyatt comes! And it'll depend on Andrea's work schedule if that's when I see her, or if it's later. It's kind of surreal to think about.

The stats: I'm 36 1/2 - 37 weeks pregnant. That leaves 3 - 3 1/2 weeks until my due date. We're in the realm of "full term" now, so we're ready. Wyatt William Kuhns, come on down!

Leap Year, Childbirth Class 5 and Great Big Diamond Rings

Once every 4 years, we actually have a February 29th. Enjoy it, people. This day won't come again until 2012. And a special Happy Birthday to Liberty, who gets to celebrate her big day on her actual birthday this year! Rock on with your bad self, leap year.

Last night was our final childbirth class. We noticed at least two of the couples were not there, suggesting, I assume, that they'd already had the real graduation: the baby. Crazy. We primarily covered all the postpartum stuff, and had a quick review of the labor process. And with that, we were done. No more classes. Just waiting for the test...

As we enter the last few weeks, I've had some very slight swelling in my hands. Well, this morning my wedding ring wouldn't fit. So I put it on the chain around my neck. When Ryan came home and picked me up for lunch, he decided it was time to buy me a fake ring in a bigger size. It's pretty big and blingy, ha ha, but it's nice to wear a ring that fits. :)

yeah, that's all I got.

Playing Footsie

I have strange feet. This is new, and of course, like everything these days, pregnancy related. I may have already mentioned that when my feet swell, it's really just my right foot. So I get one puffy foot and sexy cankle, and one normal foot. Well, my left foot was feeling a little left out. But like a twin (a topic I know well), my left foot wanted something else to set it apart. And so, my arch seems to be collapsing on the left foot. I'm getting one flat foot and one puffy foot. Way to go, feet! Way to set yourselves apart!

We have a full week and weekend ahead. Tonight, Ryan is taking a tactical firearms course with his dad. This is a hobby I wasn't particularly familiar with until I moved to Bakersfield. But what can I say? My husband digs special forces skills. At least I feel profoundly protected. :) Tomorrow night is our last childbirth class. I can't believe those classes are ending. I feel a little like I'm graduating from Pregnancy U. Then, Saturday is the local/family baby shower. As I mentioned in my last blog, I really can't wait for that! But we have a lot of family coming in from out of town, so it'll make for a full weekend, not just a couple hours at a shower.

It's nice to have a lot on our plates. It makes the time go faster, which is becoming one of my main priorities as I get a little more uncomfortable every day. :) It's really not miserable, exactly; it's just a little annoying. I'm reminded a little more every day of things I miss, like certain sleep positions, a refreshing alcoholic beverage and sushi. Knowing they're just around the corner makes me want them more!

The stats: I'm 35 1/2 - 36 weeks pregnant. Wyatt's due date is 4 - 4 1/2 weeks away. My dream would be to have him in 2 - 2 1/2 weeks, haha. And since I totally have control over that, I'm sure it'll go exactly as planned. (Insert naive 4-year-old grin here.)

Gettin' Dolled Up

I got out of the shower this morning, looked in the mirror, and made a decision. I'm getting my hair done, and I'm getting it done today. What we see here is very similar to the need for a pedicure I mentioned a few days ago. I do, after all, still have my hair. In fact, it may actually be better than my pre-pregnancy hair. And so, let's improve it, shall we? Generally, my sister-in-law does my hair. She does an awesome job. But today, I just decided I wanted to pamper myself a little, and I wanted to do it last minute. So that means I have to pay the big bucks. :) And of course, the fact that my Bakersfield baby shower is on Saturday is another good reason to get rid of the drab dark roots. Yes? Yes.

Speaking of the baby shower, I'm really looking forward to it. I had an awesome one with my friends in LA just over a month ago. The one on Saturday will encompass both my and Ryan's families as well as my friends who live locally. The closer I get to my due date, the antsier I get about being prepared for a baby. I feel a little like I can't really finish nesting until I know where I stand in the baby gear department! Ryan and I will do a big trip to Babies R Us to buy whatever we still need after the shower. I'll probably drag him there the very next day.

I'm also going to start packing my hospital bag today. I'm sure we still have at least a couple weeks if not considerably more before Wyatt makes his debut, but every now and then, women go into labor early, so I feel like maybe I should be prepped for that, too. Yeah... like I said... nesting.

The stats: Today I'm roughly 35 - 35 1/2 weeks pregnant. That leaves 4 1/2 - 5 weeks until my due date. Anyone want to start a pool on when he's actually gonna come??

Childbirth Class 4: The Tour

You know, there's something a little eerie about being on your hospital tour with your childbirth class and finding out that there's someone there in labor from your class who's just as far along as you are. Then you look to your left and the girl you're standing next to mentions that her doc told her she's 3 1/2 cm dilated already. It gets your brain going. This is really happening. Soon.

Hmmm, what to say about the tour... The labor rooms are big. They're pretty nice for hospital rooms, but you know, it's still a hospital. :) The recovery rooms are tiny, but I guess that's the case at most hospitals. I'm hoping to spend a minimum amount of time there anyway. I feel more comfortable being familiar with the place, but it also has my head spinning!

So, that's it. Nothing all that interesting today. Still, I'd gotten all worked up about going to do the hospital tour, so I figured I'd better at least mention it in my blog. And so, here it is. Peace out.

Bellies, Boobies and Toes.

Yesterday was a Wyatt day. I had my last non-invasive prenatal appointment (meaning I got to keep my clothes on), and I had a breastfeeding class. I also got a pedicure, which I'll attribute to Wyatt too, because it helped out a little with the look and feel of my semi-swollen feet.



Let's start with the appointment, shall we? My blood pressure remains low, so no signs of preeclampsia. My uterus (belly) is measuring right on target. Wyatt's heartbeat is strong and steady as always. The baby's head is down. He's locked and loaded for final approach. At my next appointment, I'll get tested for Group B strep. (I'm crossing my fingers it comes back negative, because I really don't want to have to have antibiotics during labor, due to the increased possibility of later problems like thrush.) I'll also have my first pelvic exam since my first trimester. The doc will check my cervix for changes like dilation and effacement. That's pretty crazy to think about. I keep calling this the home stretch, but DANG, that's the home stretch...



And now on to the breastfeeding class. It was actually part one of a two part class, which I didn't know going in. This class was called "Getting Started". It was actually really informative and answered a lot of questions I didn't really know I had. So, while I certainly don't claim to be an expert now, I do feel comfortable that I'll have a better experience than I would have otherwise. So, you know, there's that. It is pretty comical how many classes I've been taking in order to prepare for this kid! I was talking to my grandmama on the phone yesterday about it, and she's pretty amused. When she was having her babies, she just had her mom and grandma there for a month to train her in everything she needed to know. But these are different times. Support networks work differently, so I guess we have to educate ourselves differently.



Lastly, let's talk toes. I have long, thin toes. I've always liked my feet because of them. I guess it's because "long and thin" is a lot like "tall and thin". And since the "thin" in that phrase isn't really guaranteed in other parts of the body without work, ha ha, I'm grateful for my skinny toes. Well, I got a pedicure yesterday in "hooker red" as my husband so delicately puts it, to highlight the last remaining skinny part of my expanding bod. Because, alas, even my pretty feet have begun the swelling adventure, now, and my toes are all I have left!



The stats: I'm 34 1/2 - 35 weeks preggo, depending on the source. 5 - 5 1/2 weeks until the infamous due date. Bring it on. I'm ready for other parts of my body to match my toes again...

A Year in the Life...

Yesterday, Ryan and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. It's seriously hard to believe it has already been a year since our wedding. (Although my ridiculously large belly suggests otherwise. This is certainly not the body I had a year ago.) Intuitively, I'd say we've been married for about four or five months. But then I think about everything that's happened in the last twelve months, and I obviously reevaluate. We bought a new house, found renters for our old house, got pregnant and got a "family" car (a Yukon). That's kind of a lot of changes in a small amount of time! Ha ha, did you see how a year went from a long time to hardly any time at all there? Yeah... trippy. Anyway, we had a very nice anniversary. Very low key, but lovely. Maybe one of these years, when I'm not with child, we'll do a big trip or something. This year, however, low key was perfect.

Tomorrow night, I have yet another class related to becoming a new mom. It's a breastfeeding class. I clearly have no experience in this department, but I know it's a lot trickier for new moms to master than many of them expect. I figure I should probably educate myself in order to avoid too much frustration. I like to think it'll come naturally to me, but then again, I like to tell myself labor will be a simple process, too. So I'm clearly already delusional.

Today I'm 34 weeks and 2 days pregnant. That puts my (furthest away) due date in 5 weeks and 5 days. In my childbirth class, the instructor stresses that a first baby usually comes between 40 and 42 weeks. But since we've already established that I'm delusional, I'm gonna claim 38 weeks. So expect Wyatt in around 3 1/2 weeks. I realize that mind over matter did nothing for me during the first trimester when I was sick and exhausted, and it hasn't done a thing to prevent stretch marks, leg cramps, or back aches. But this is different. I swear. :)

The Basics. (Because it's that cut and dry.)

Tonight, Ryan and I are going to take a Basic Baby Care class with some friends of ours. It's a three hour class, and I'm curious to know what they're going to cover. I imagine the "basics" will include glamorous topics like diaper changing, umbilical cord stump care, and in our case, circumcision care. (I know this has turned into a more debated topic than it used to be, but for us, there was never really a question.) How to bathe your baby... How to burp your baby... etc.

It's funny. You can take classes to learn the mechanics of caring for a new baby, but that's not the same thing as learning how to be a parent. That's the more ambiguous part. I used to laugh when people would say, "Babies need to come with an instruction manual." After all, aren't these classes and all those books like What to Expect the First Year exactly that? Oh, but as the idea of a baby coming into our home gets closer and closer to reality, I'm gaining a little more perspective on what that means. The classes and books can't teach you responsibility, or how to love no matter what. Childcare? Absolutely. Parenthood? No.

And now for a complete 180. Politics. Being pretty moderate and about as close as you can get to an Independent without giving up the right to vote in a California primary, I rarely broach the topic. Even today, I'm not going to endorse anyone or take on any major issues. But I do have a small gripe with the Democratic party that I'd like to address. Super delegates. What's the point? Who came up with this brilliant set up? I think the idea of super delegates (especially having over 700 of them) is ridiculous. It has nothing to do with my specific political views, per se, but it does say something about the flaws in our systems... Yeah, anyway, just thinking...

Today I'm 33 1/2 weeks pregnant (or 34 weeks based the last two ultrasounds). 6 - 6 1/2 weeks until our due date. Tick, tick, tick.