Our Very Own Baby Boom

It would appear that everyone around me is pregnant. Either all of my friends are super fertile or pregnancy is catching. Sometimes I think it is me being super sensitive since I was in their shoes not too long ago literally begging for someone to be pregnant so I would know at least one other mom. Then I remember that my friends probably just like to have sex. The first bundle of joy will make his apperance around July 4th to my cousin Emily and her boyfriend Chris. The second around August 20th to my friend Kari and her husband Erik. This will surely be the summer of love.

I am thrilled about these 2 babies for several reasons, mostly selfish. First, despite my best efforts at trying to get Wyatt to interact with other kids most of the time he seems scared out of his mind. This weekend at the playground, he would run up to a kid just to become shell shocked and stare blank faced until the other child ran away. You can clearly see that he wants to play but has no idea how. I am terrified that he is going to be some lonely child that can only relate to adults. I am hoping that having another child in the family will force him to become comfortable interacting with children because they will be delegated to the "Children's Table" and therefore forced to talk to each other. Ingenious, right?!

Second, I am in dire need of some mom friends. Not that I don't love my childless-friends, cause I do. I just need some friends that don't work full time. Somebody who won't cringe when I bite an ice cube to brake it for Wy to suck on. Somebody who will understand when Wyatt starts throwing green beans all over a restaurant while I stare at him loving. Somebody who I can talk about my boobs, or lack thereof, without feeling like I am talking about my boobs all the time. Most of all, somebody who I can have a real conversation with about juggling life/mom-dom/work/relationships without feeling judged or competitive or inferior. Cause that's hard.

The weirdest part is seeing Kari and Emily pregnant makes me miss being pregnant which is something I never thought I would miss. There is something so comforting knowing that you are never alone. Knowing that I was creating this miraculous being. I miss feeling Wyatt's little kicks, having a little nudger, a little bean. It is a time that was so filled with love and anticipation. A time that while its happening goes too slow but when its gone you want it back. Honestly, it takes everything in my power to resist groping the both of them. I want to rub their bellies, all the time. I have to focus to remain seated and to not stare. Now I realize why people did that to me in the grocery store. Knowing there is a baby growing under that thin layer of skin makes you want to give it some of your love and then you can somehow be a part of the love thats growing there.

A Year Ago Today

The Big Day!

To my sweet Bean,

I have been waiting to meet you for 9 long months but sometimes it feels like I have been waiting my whole life. As soon as I knew that you were nestled safe inside me, I knew I needed you in my life. You have already brought so much immeasurable happiness, joy, and kindness into my world. And now the next time I cross this threshold, into our home, it will be with you in my arms with a lifetime in front of us.

I can't promise you that I will be a good mom. I can't promise that I will be able make everything better. I hope that I can keep you safe, secure, and happy for your whole life. I might not be your favorite parent and we will have our disagreements but always know that I am doing the best that I can. Because I would never put you or your needs second. I am learning just like you, so be patient with me. What I can promise is that I will always be there for you. I will wipe your tears, stand up for you in any fight, sew on patches to all you tear, and catch you when you fall. I will always been your number one fan and will love you unconditionally no matter what you do or who you are. Simply because you are the joy in my heart. Out of all the other miracles in this world, you are the one that is mine.

This is your beginning. Sure, Terry and I will play our parts but this is your story. I hope that I can make it easier for you. That I can aid you in your journey through this troubled world. Today is the day I have been waiting for. The day my miracle arrives.

I love you everyday.
Your Momma

Induce?!

So, here's the update. Once again everything is looking fabulous. My blood pressure is fine, bean's heartbeat is nice and steady, still dilated, and still pregnant. Dr. Diaz says that I have been taking such good care of Mr. Bean that he doesn't want to come out. Evidently, the Drs go by my original due date which was Feb. 4th. The 10th was a date they gave me after having a sonogram and seeing the baby's growth progress. Which I guess is more of an estimation of when bean will be born. Long story short, I'm overdue and she wants to induce early next week.

I have very mixed feelings about being induced. I definitely want him out. Obviously, I trust my doctor to make the best choices for our health. If she says that I have to get induced for the health of the baby, of course. No questions asked. However, I have been so adamant about no unnecessary drugs, vitamins, drinks, toxins whatsoever for my entire pregnancy. I don't like the thought of introducing drugs into my system that will make my body go into labor. It is suppose to be natural. If I was two weeks past my due date I could understand the health concern but only a week, I am not so convinced. I also read an article about pitocin (the labor drug) being linked to autism. I don't know how true that is because I believe they are trying to link anything to autism simply to have an answer to autism's scary questions. But why take chances?

I think what I need now are old wives tales. I want to try out every labor inducing story I can get my hands on. You think its pineapple, Chinese food, Buckram burgers, spicy red peppers, whatever; I will eat it all day long. Walks around the block, long car rides down bumpy roads, lunges, pressure points, sex (well, that one might pose some problems). I kid you not I will try anything. I called an acupuncturist this morning. I am determined to have this guy as naturally as possible. So, what are your labor inducing stories?

Patience Please

Patience, my ass!!!! Everyone is telling me to be patient. Telling me don't worry, he will come when he is ready. Blah, blah, blah. I want to reach up there and pull him out myself. This is ridiculous. I am suffocating and drowning in being patient and I am sick of it. I am so close to sitting on the couch every night and crying because I am not in labor. This is my bonafide hissy fit. I am stamping my feet and screaming like a Neanderthal toddler. Whine, whine, whine.

Everyone keeps asking me every five seconds how am I feeling. Yes, I am touched by the compassion and genuine concern. Honestly, I feel fine. Bean and I are in a fight I feel so perfectly fine. I don't want to feel fine anymore. Bring on the labor pains!! I want to be screaming, legs in stirrups damn it! Out of all people, I want him out more than anyone else. (I bet you can hear me whining in California). If I had even remotely an ounce of control over the situation he would have been born already. Let me repeat, I HAVE NO CONTROL!! There is nothing I can do but sit back and wait. Trust me, no matter how annoying this is to everyone else times it by twelve and that is how I feel. This child is unborn and already driving me crazy. Just like a man.

Sorry for the rant but honestly, I feel like I am being driven slowly insane. I feel like that scene from the Breakfast Club, in detention on Saturday, looking at the clock twice every minute, bored to tears, the second hand moving torturously slow. I am doing nothing, waiting to go into labor. I got really excited on Monday because I was having a lot of contractions. One every 15 minutes for about 3 hours. And then they just stopped. Blast. I was so upset. I kept waiting for them to get stronger and closer together but they didn't. My biggest fear is I am going to be one of those women who don't know they are giving birth until the baby is in their pants. Well, I've got a doctors appointment today. So, we shall see what she says...

Yeah for February!!!

I made it to February!!! I am so proud of myself. I really wanted to make it to February, now I can finally relax, sit back, and wait for this little miracle of mine. I am getting to the point of being obscenely pregnant where even strangers are concerned for my safety. I feel like a ticking time bomb, at any point I could explode. I was having anxiety about the hospital and the birth but now I want him out. I want my body back and a baby in my arms. We just have to wait.

I went to the doctors on Wednesday and she confirmed the any day theory. I am two centimeters dilated and almost completely effaced. She doesn't think that I will make it to my next appointment on the 6th. But I have heard of people walking around for weeks dilated. So, again it's a waiting game. I also had another sonogram done to give us a final check of the baby, placenta, and umbilical cord placement. Everything looks great. However, unfortunately for me, they gave a weight estimate. 7lbs 10oz. He is a little heifer boy!! I can't believe someone that is almost 8lbs is living inside me. That will be the quickest weight loss program ever! Will keep everyone posted. Tick Tock, Tick Tock...

Get your Boxes Here

Forget Superbowl, if you want in on gambling boxes get them here!! My mom's florist is hosting bean's baby pool. But the boxes are running out and I think they might be closing it soon. Its $2 a box and you have to guess date and weight. It is up to about $120, the take home is big. So, if you want in let me know. Some cruel person (I won't mention names, cough, Jimmy) bought a box for Feb 29th and 10lbs 5 oz. That is cruel. Down right mean. Seriously, mean.

In other news, my friend Jessica had her baby Jan. 29th and her due date was Feb. 18th. (He is only about 45 minutes old in that picture!) A beautiful baby boy named Jack that looks just like Jessica with dark hair and pinchable cheeks. He is 6lbs 8oz, 19 inches, of adorable cuteness. I am so jealous of her speedy delivery. She was in the hospital for 40 minutes. Congratulations Jess and Happy Birthday Jack! I am so happy for you and your little boy. Little Bean has his first friend!!

Over to the Dark Side

I think about this sometimes so don't make fun. It is one of my dark and twisted thoughts that robs me of sleep. I highly doubt that it is going to happen but there is another person coming into this world that will be reliant on me and I can't help but wonder: What happens if I die?

I know its creepy and morbid but should I create a will? My parents don't have a will, shame on them. Should I? As you all know, Terry is in the military and his future plans can be anywhere in the world. Naturally, if something where to happen to me, Terry would become sole guardian. However, what happens if Terry is in Afghanistan or Iraq or God knows who else we will be fighting in years to come? His future is migratory and a harsh world for a child who needs stability. So, that still leaves little Bean. It bothers me. I know that maternal mortality is very low in the US but it still really bothers me. In all reality, I know that nothing bad is going to happen but I can't help but wonder.

I would want him to be raised in my house, where I intended to. By someone young, like I am. Someone not perfect without the luxury of testing parenting skills on other children. My thoughts turn to Rebecca. I mentioned this the other day. She started laughing. Mom was insulted. Now, I fully understand that my parents would financially help and that they would have Rebecca move home. The less change for Bean the better. Maybe it is mean of me to put all the responsibility of raising a child on Rebecca. To essentially nominate another single mom when it was a hard enough choice for myself. But I think that she would be the person most likely to raise my son the way that I would. Or at least close to the way that I intended. I always said that if I had a child, Rebecca would raise him anyway.

It is a weird feeling. I feel blessed to know I accomplished so much in my young life. That having Bean makes my life more complete, more finished somehow. That if I did die, I know that my life has had great meaning because of him. On the other hand, to miss out on truly getting to know Bean is heartbreaking. Heath Ledger made a comment when his daughter, Matilda, was born on WJW-TV that really hit home with me and is even more heartbreaking after his untimely passing. Your forced into, kind of, respecting yourself more. You learn more about yourself through your child, I guess. I think you also look at death differently. It's like a Catch-22: I feel good about dying now because I feel like I'm alive in her, you know, but at the same hand, you don't want to die because you want to be around for the rest of her life.

Things Your Mom Didn't Tell You - Part 3

Everyone keeps telling me that the father along I get the more complaints I will have but so far I am still doing pretty well. Knock on wood. However, there are still some weird things that I never anticipated...

Bleeding gums - I have always had a little pink toothbrush action in the morning but now you would think that I got punched in the face and ripped a tooth out. We are talking full out blood red all over my new sink every time I brush (and I have a soft toothbrush). I went to the dentist to see if she could calm it down a little bit. So, I'm sitting there getting poked, sucked, and sprayed at. She does half of my mouth and threw up her hands. Exclaiming "You are bleeding way to much. I can't finish. You have to come back another time." When does that ever happen? True to her word when I spit it was all blood. They promise me that it will abate some after birth. It better because after three visits to the dentist I am spent.

No one wants to talk about it, its embarrassing, but I am throwing it out there - constipation. Yes, that is right. I went there. Never in my life have I been so constipated!! They say it is because my whole digestive tract has slowed down to gain all the nutrition possible out of my food. Honestly, its not even funny. Its horrifying. I never understood why people took reading material into the bathroom. I was always a fly under the radar, snap your fingers and I'm done pooper. Now, I totally understand the reading material. Last Dr visit she put me on iron supplements which are notorious for causing constipation. I can't wait until that kicks in. Oh joy of joys. Maybe its my body way of preparing to push out the mother load that is a baby.

Just Say No to Drugs

I want my thoughts on labor to be realistic. I have a very detailed vision of how I would like Bean's delivery to be and I worry that I will be disappointed if it doesn't go as planned. I also understand that it can all change depending on how it is going. I don't want to have a cesarean but will if it is what is best for Bean. Obviously, this is my first baby and my expectations are formed from watching too much "Baby Story" on TLC, what I have read, and other women's stories.

I asked my Dr if I was being realistic in thinking that I would be able to do this natural. She said that it depends on my pain threshold and that everyone is different. I don't want drugs. I don't want an episiotomy. I want my goo and blood covered tot to be placed on my chest directly after he emerges. I want to be able to walk to the bathroom, by myself, ten minutes later. Terry thinks I am crazy. I know, considering modern medicine and available pain control options, that natural childbirth is increasingly becoming unnatural. But did you know that epidurals can lead to higher cesarean rates and the use of forceps or a vacuum extractor? Or that babies can sleep much more after birth? Yeah, neither did I. Since I found out I was pregnant I have never put anything harmful in my body, no Advil, no caffeine, no alcohol(I am very anal about it despite that my Dr says a little bit is OK). Why would I want to introduce drugs at birth? Besides, I have always believed that childbirth is natural. My body was built to make babies. There are women in 3rd world countries that still lay down in fields to give birth. Maybe the pain is what we make it to be. If I go in believing that I can do it naturally, maybe I will be able to. If I go in fearing the pain, maybe an epidural would be the way to go.

That being said, I have no idea what is going to happen or how I am going to handle all of this. I am not going to make any promises that after I give natural a try I won't jump at the painless epidural. Although, having a needle placed in my spine, while having contractions, seems far less appealing to me then pushing him out the old fashioned way. I don't know. I guess I will have to wait and see. In the meantime, I am working on my breathing, relaxation, and meditation techniques. Including a prenatal massage for me and a pressure point information session for Lizzy next Thursday courtesy of my Auntie De!!! I am so ready to be pampered!!

Bump Watch

This is the bare belly series of bump watch. Try not to be too offended by the hugeness and the flipped out button. I really still can't believe my belly is that big!! I (or bean rather) look huge from that angle!! Bean is suppose to be putting on an ounce of weight a day so despite feeling like I couldn't possibly get any bigger, I am. The good news is that I am officially "full term" at the end of this week. Full term means that I can have this baby any day and he should be perfectly well developed and cooked. Basically, we have started the waiting game. It could be tomorrow or it could be another 4 weeks. Its all up to little Bean.

He was really trying to bust out in that first one, hence my ridiculous face. I never understood why pregnant ladies needed to rub their belly's so often. I totally understand now. I find myself rubbing him constantly. Sometimes I am trying to put him back in cause he is stretching out so much it feels like I am going to rip apart. Or he is just under my ribs and I am trying to get him to move. Or I walk around holding him up because he is heavy on my back. Or my belly looks like alien and is jumping from side to side and I am trying to hide what he's doing. I was in the meeting for work the other day and the person sitting next to me noticed my belly going crazy. It was kind of embarrassing but honestly what can I do?!

To Do or Not To Do

One of my co-workers believes that Terry and I should get married for the benefits, ie. health insurance, taxes, military, etc. She offered her services and help to arrange a civil union at the hospital. Now, as romantic as it sounds to tie the knot in a hospital bed for moneys sake, it is not on my agenda (nor on Terrys). Marriage is a sacred union that shouldn't be entered into lightly, in my opinion. I don't want to gloss over it and I don't want to rush. I know that she was trying to be helpful but I couldn't help but be a little disturbed by the entire situation.

Pregnancy allows everybody and anybody to comment on my personal life. Where as once my life was private, I now find myself open to all opinions regardless if I want them or not. I know that these comments aren't meant to be hurtful but most of the time I really don't want to know how much pain you were in during labor. Or how daycare ruins a child. Or why I should get married as soon as possible to anyone willing. Or why formula feeding makes children obese. I could go on forever, you don't even know. A pregnant belly puts a sign on my back that says "Please talk to me. I would love for you to comment on my personal life."

I have dreams of marriage, some day. I want the white dress, tons of family, and big ceremony. I want the husband that loves and respects me for the choices I have made in my life. I want the romance. I want to be swept off my feet and the stability of having a husband that cares for me. For some reason, most people expect us to get married because I got pregnant. It is an easy assumption. I guess we got the order of things a little backward and society wants us to correct ourselves. However, for me, these two major life events don't come hand in hand but I still want both. I don't feel that it is unrealistic. I have always wanted to get married. It might be a little different then what I dreamt of as a little girl but my marriage will be the perfect union for me and my son.

I guess what is bothering me the most is the notion that I am tainted, tarnished, and used goods. Because I will have a child that I will be less desirable. I will become a package deal. That I should get married to whoever comes through my door. I don't feel the necessity to sacrifice my dreams of marriage because I am a 'fallen' woman. Romance is not lost on me because I will have a child. I understand that an in-tact family is what society deems best for my child. But society can be wrong because there is no lack of people in this child's life. Bean will have two supportive parents, four grandparents, four great grandparents, a million aunts and uncles, and tons of friends. With all those relatives around I doubt he will notice the missing ring on our fingers. When I do get married Bean will eventually come to understand that I was in love with someone, who is in love with me as him. I would hate for him to see me in an unhappy or forced marriage knowing the reason we got married was him. Hopefully, Bean learning that I married for love will mean more than benefits and a hospital bed.

Maybe down the road, Terry and I will get married. I am not completely closed off to the idea. But definitely not now. Our relationship is based on friendship and would need to progress to that level. Bean is a big change in both of our lives. Let me adjust to that change before piling on more. If we do get married, it will be because it was the best choice, at the right time, for all three of us. Until then, families come in all shapes and sizes. Ours is no different.

This Weeks Nerves

I know I keep on posting these nervous Nancy rants but I can't seem to help myself. This blog has evolved into a place where I can vent about my worries and not feel so guilty that I am burdening people. I apologize in advance for this anxiety rant. If Terry was around maybe I would feel obligated to rant to him but since my time is limited to the phone I would rather not bother him with my anxiety. Besides, I think he has enough of his own.

Lizzy and I finished our childbirth classes on December 19th. The nurses told us then that I should pack my bag for the hospital. I refuse. I simply refuse. Every week I get email updates on what to expect and they keep on reminding me to pack my bag. Nope. I am sorry. I just can't. Not yet. Its too soon. I am still living out of duffel bags at Michaels. If I were to pack a bag where would I keep it exactly, at home, at Michaels, in my car? I feel like it is becoming some kind of inner struggle. That if I pack my bag I will have to come to terms with having to actually go to the hospital and all the it entails. I worked up the courage yesterday to print off a list of things to pack. I thought it was a step in the right direction. I know I am going to have to face the reality eventually but I can totally put it off for the next few weeks. Cross my legs.

I have been having a lot of trouble sleeping. It is a combination of not being able to get comfortable and then once awake my mind starts reeling. I also can't make it through the night without going to the bathroom at least once. Bean is leaning directly onto my bladder pretty much all the time now. My bladder must be about the size of a pea, I kid you not. Anyway, I tend to have very unrealistic worries when I am up late at night. Like maybe he has 12 arms, which clearly he doesn't because I have seen his sonograms. Or what happens if I don't know I am in labor, which I will know at some point I am positive. A big one lately has been falling. I keep worrying that I am going to fall on my belly and that he will stop moving. Stillborn, just writing the word makes me shiver. God forbid. I pray all the time that he will be safe. That I can keep him safe for the next few weeks. He is still really active. I find myself breathing easier when he is moving just because I know he is OK. Even if his moving is really annoying. I relish it.

Breast feeding is another whole ball of worries. Like will I actually be able to do this? Will I inexplicably find my modesty and be unable to whip them out in public? (Doubtful) It has been a difficult transition in my mind. I mean, honestly, what have my boobs been useful for before now? Suddenly they have been catapulted into importance and will be used to sustain another person. Crazy!!

I know that most of the time when I am nervous about something it never ends up to be as traumatic as I anticipated it to be. The monster under my bed is far more terrifying in my head then if I met him face to face. However, that usually doesn't stop me for worrying. I am assuming that my worrying is not going to stop when he is born either. This child is going to bring another lifetime of worrying. I guess that is what they call motherhood.

P.S

As I stated last post, I have been dreaming of laundry. I decided to make my dreams become a reality, to feel as though I was accomplishing something, while the baby suite is getting finished. So, I wobbled my way up in the attic to retrieve all of the baby bedding, clothing, and such. I piled it all into bags and laundry baskets, loaded my car, and was off to Mikes to do laundry until my hearts content. I envisioned my ipod blaring away, a hot cup of tea, maybe a book, and doing load after load until I was satisfied. As ashamed as I am to admit this, I was really excited!!! That is exactly what I wanted to do on my Thursday night.

Then I ran into some trouble. I put my first load of bedding in and am off reading in the living room. Michael's house is pretty small and I can't help but notice that the machine is unusually loud. Curious, I gather the strength to heave myself off the couch. Sweet Jesus, the machine overflowth!!! There is water all over the kitchen floor, pooling in the grout, soaking into the carpet. I shut the machine off and thankfully the water stops. God forbid there was a burst pipe or something. As quickly as my elephant body will allow I run upstairs to gather towels. I am on my hands and knees mopping up water, determined to handle this like a big girl and refusing to call my parents. Well, I am admittedly a wuss. I broke down and called when I couldn't reach under the table and despite being shut off it still looked like the carpet was getting wet.

The phone call went something like this:
Dad: Hello
Me: Dad?! I am having a bit of a crisis.
Dad: Whats the matter honey?
Me: I was doing laundry and now there is water everywhere.
Dad: We will be right there. I'll bring a mop.
Click.

I was mildly concerned at the curt phone call but was relieved that things were going to be handled by someone other than myself. In hindsight, I probably should have given them some more information. My parents were at Michael's in about three seconds. Upon receiving the phone call from their 8 months pregnant daughter claiming that she was in a bit of a crisis and there was water everywhere they wasted no time. Dad arrived breathless, mop in hand, asking if everything was OK with Mom trailing right behind him. I explained what happened (I probably overloaded the machine, genius) and they explained that they thought I was in labor. Ha ha, no. Everyone always thinks I am in labor. I sigh a little to loud and people ask if I am OK. I promise I will let everyone know if I am in labor. Needless to say, I have stalled on the laundry front. Maybe next week I will regain my strength.

Mary Poppins Eat Your Heart Out

I am starting to get the urge to nest. This is quite common in the later months of pregnancy. I am sure my mother is thrilled that I might get up off my fat and lazy ass to do something. Maybe I will start cleaning the house and kicking some construction worker butt to get the baby suite done. Lets finish painting, have the carpet laid, and move the furniture in. I want everything to be put away all nice and neat. I want to spend ridiculous amounts of money on sheets, bath mats, candles and curtains.

However, my weirdest urge so far has been laundry. I really, really, really want to rip all the tags off of the clothes, blankets, sheets, and towels we got at the shower. I want to wash them. Do one hundred loads of laundry. I HATE laundry with a passion, always have. But now I find myself fascinating over it, ohh how the mighty have fallen. I want to fold all the cuteness and put it all away in drawers and on hangers in the closet. I want to line up the shoes, unpackage hats, sew strings connecting mittens, and roll his biker baby socks. Speaking of mittens I got the cutest ones the other day at Target. They have airplanes on them and they rattle. Surely they need a sting attached so we don't lose them. I simply cannot hold in my joy and anticipation of laundry!!!

Bump Watch

I haven't posted pictures in a while so I figured it was about time. There is a lot of changing going on and I am literally getting bigger by the second. Beware of the bare belly picture, it is not for the faint of heart. My mom says I look like Olive Oil from Popeye more than ever now. I am just starting my 35 week, that means 5 weeks to go!!! Holy shit!!!

Its officially gone people!!! My belly button has popped inside out. Now, I finally understand how it feels to have an outie. I read in a book the other day that you can use a bandaid or a piece of tape to cover your belly button being seen through your clothes. How weird is that? Yes, it sticks out but I always assumed that it would happen eventually.

Push Harder!!!!

We finished childbirth classes...already. We had to go three Wednesday nights in December. We didn't practice Lamaze or anything. It was more like giving you a lay of the land. Letting us understand what to expect, a tour of the hospital, pain options, a few breathing techniques, breastfeeding, the first few days of life, and that kind of thing. Lizzy and my Mom are my birth coaches since Terry might not make it here in time.

On the tour of the hospital, we were asked to wait outside the labor and delivery rooms while gazing at the sweet newborns. Almost every time the doors opened there were screams of "Push harder!!! 1, 2, 3...". I had no idea that this was an interactive tour. They didn't let us go in and watch the birth but talk about in your face experiences. The best part was the father, waiting on our side of the delivery rooms, white as a sheet. He explained that he was "taking turns" with his mother-in-law coaching his wife through labor. The rooms were pretty small so I can understand where his claustrophobia came from. (They told us at the next class that the baby was born before we left the hospital.) There was another woman in labor, in her hospital gown, pacing the hallway. She looked more annoyed that we were there than in any pain. We decided that she was in the very early stages.

I am not going to lie, it was kinda of terrifying. I know that understanding the labor process will make going through it easier because I will know what to expect. But sometimes I think that maybe not knowing anything would be better. Ignorance is bliss, right?! Lizzy seemed absolutely fine with all of this. She was calm, attentive, and taking everything very seriously. It made me feel like a big wuss that I wasn't handling it well. I am surprised I didn't puke on the floor. Having Lizzy there made me feel like I was being silly worrying about it because she wasn't worried about it. She will be a great coach because regardless of what is going on in her mind, she's got a great poker face.

My Anxiety Runneth Over

I know it is normal to have anxiety but lately there has been a lot of it. I chalk most of it up to first time parent jitters but I distinctly feel that I am over thinking. Honestly, I don't even know if its anxiety or a nervous anticipation. Wait, is that the same thing?

Recently, most of my anxiety lies with the first few days at home. Will I know how to soothe, comfort, and calm a crying baby? Or will I panic, throw my hands up, run out of the room, and hand him to my mom. I'd like to think that I wouldn't do that but I don't know. Will I know how to hold him? Will I understand why he is crying? How to change a diaper? Will I know when he is sick or cold or uncomfortable? How do I place him in his crib to avoid all those weird crib phobias? Will I know how to feed him or how much I am feeding him? I could hyperventilate every day if I thought about it too much. I try not to let myself think about it but usually, in the middle of the night when I'm alone, I can't help it.

I wonder if after 9 months of waiting, preparing, visualizing, and loving this unborn child that I will feel relief to have him in this world. Relief to have my body back or will I panic that he is no longer a part of me? That he is susceptible to the outside world and its occasional ugliness. Or will I get that "What comes next?" attitude. The "OK, now what" syndrome. Or will I be so totally engrossed that my absent mindedness will continue and my only thoughts still focused on him.

Most of all, I want to see him. I want to see who he looks like and takes after. If he does indeed have my nose and Terry's mouth. I want to cradle him in my arms. I want to smell that baby goodness of powder and innocence. To touch his soft delicate skin. Feel his warmth on my chest and a sweaty cheek on my neck. I want to rub the top of his head and play with peach fuzz. I want to see Terry hold him and watch his anxiety melt at the recognition of his son. I want to count his fingers and kiss the bottom of his feet. I am so anxious to see him I could burst.

I think nervous anticipation is the right term. I am nervous about all the things that I don't have experience with. Nervous about the details. But the anticipation of seeing our little man far out weighs my nervousness. I can't believe I have 54 more days of waiting, not that I am counting or anything....

The Wintry Mix

I moved into my cousin Michael's house. With our house under construction, only two livable bedrooms, a plethora of baby supplies, and a thick layer of dust we decided that it was for the best if I slept elsewhere for a while. Michael has an extra bedroom and I was more than willing to allow myself some privacy for a short time.

It snowed, rained, froze, and hailed last night. I was glad that I didn't have to drive far. Pregnant ladies and ice don't really mix. I stopped at the store on my way to Mikes and got brownies and dinner. If I had it my way they would have been eaten in that order. He has this great cottage that overlooks the church. It reminds me of the English countryside that I loved to watch roll by on the bus when I lived there. His cottage even reminds me of my house in Leeds, except cleaner, warmer, and much more inviting. There are little nooks and crannies, closets misshapen in any spare space, hardwood floors, and deep recessed windows to accommodate the think stone walls.

I made our brownies (caramel, walnut brownies) while Michael cooked our dinner of ravioli and garlic bread. I swear I wanted to shove my entire face in that bowl of brownie mix and lap it up. The urge was so strong to lick the bowl, to use my finger as a spatula and get every last inch of batter. Forget baking, lets just eat it raw. I held back because of the raw egg, salmonella, and Mr. Bean. Another thing that will get me though labor. I started making a mental list of things I am unable to eat or drink so that I can binge when he's finally here. There will be feta cheese, wine, caffeinated mocha lattes, brownie batter, and a baby boy in my future. That's motivation for me.

Using all my will power, I waited until the brownies were cooked and had about 5, with a glass of milk to make them nutritious. We sat by the crackling fire and watched a movie while the ice and snow accumulated outside. It was picture perfect. I never thought that I would ever be so happy. Right now, in this moment, despite all the anxiety and upheaval, I am content in my life and the direction it is taking. I find myself smiling at nothing while driving down the road. I am just so happy. Its a good feeling.

Sounds of Your Groove

At lunch I go lay down in my car and listen to music (not so much since its freezing). My Ipod blaring away with one earpiece in my ear and the other on my belly. Sometimes he doesn't react at all and other times he starts freaking out, bouncing from one side of my belly to another, kicking out, dancing. I rub my belly, gently pushing in where he is kicking out and sing. I love having that time to ourselves, my hour of quiet, feeling my son move. My mom laughs that it is prenatal torture but I'd like to think that he likes it.

All the books say that his ears are now fully developed and he can hear what I do only slightly muffled. Some even say that music I play for him in-utero will soothe him in the outside world. I find that fascinating!! Anything that might soothe a crying babe, I will try. So, I made a playlist of songs that I listen to pretty frequently hoping that I might try this theory out. I think I am in need of a few more good songs. I am looking for stuff that is soothing for him but interesting, good music, for me. Any ideas?

This is what I came up with already:

Your Smiling Face - James Taylor
Morning Lullabies - Ingrid Michaelson
This is Heaven to Me - Madeleine Peyroux
You Must have been a Beautiful Baby - Bobby Darin
Today - Joshua Radin
I'm Yours - Jason Mraz
April Showers - Math and Physics Club
From Where I'm Standing - Schuyler Fisk
Lullaby - Dixie Chicks
Dance Tonight - Paul McCartney
Give your Mama One Smile - Madeleine Peyroux
Everything will Be Alright - Joshua Radin
Beautiful Boy - John Lennon
More Love - Dixie Chicks
1234 - Feist
Daydream - John Sebastian