Week 29: The Expansion Continues

The baby has officially taken over me - socially, mentally, and physically.

The past week has been very much baby-focused as we've been working on putting together a nice bedroom for the lad. The room has been painted - it turned out darker than I'd expected, but I think it'll look really cozy once we have some furniture in there and the antique white curtains I envision (still have to find or make them) will brighten it up a bit. I'll post pictures of the room this week once I find my magic wand to wave all of our shower goodies into order. It's really difficult to put stuff away when you don't have anywhere to put it. As I'd mentioned in my previous post, my family hosted a baby shower for me on Saturday afternoon and everything was fantastic. People driving 1, 2, 3, 4 hours and giving up their precious Saturday afternoon just to watch me open presents and show their support...my family cooking and cleaning and making invitations and name cards and decorating...my family and friends so generously keeping me occupied for what seemed like hours opening all their gifts...all of the advice and compliments and hugs and kisses given to me...It was really overwhelming to me how generous, thoughtful, and loving these people in my life are, and I can't begin to thank them for making me feel special enough that they'd endure a baby shower! Actually, the hostesses did an excellent job of making it not feel like a baby shower. It was exactly as I'd wanted - just a gathering of friends and family enjoying each other's company over an Italian feast, cake, and presents. I think Ella enjoyed herself more than anyone, though, since she not only got to be the primary gift-opener, but also had not one, but TWO babies to gawk and giggle at. Unfortunately, only a handful of pictures were taken by Stephen - his excuse being the fact that he hates taking pictures (very nice) - and the ones that were taken didn't turn out very well. I know a few people took some, so if you have any you'd like to pass along to me, I'd be very appreciative!

Since the shower, I've been spending my evenings writing thank you cards and attempting to put baby stuff away which, as I stated, is challenging considering the lack of a dresser or baskets or anything in which to store all of it. I did get to begin packing our diaper bag, though, which felt very...odd. I have a hard enough time packing for myself and figuring out what I need to take with me, let alone having to now do this for a little baby. It all comes back to the realization that someone's life is going to be lying in my hands...what a terrifying thought! Poor Baby Neener is just going to have to learn to accept the fact that there will be constant trips to the store when we travel, because his mommy will have mysteriously packed five outfits for a three hour outing, but will have forgotten to pack diapers.

When I'm not actively doing baby preparations - when I'm at work, sleeping, or socializing - I'm thinking about the baby or baby preparations. I've only reminded myself twice in this post alone that we don't have a darn dresser yet, but mentally I've gone over this fact again, and again, and again, and AGAIN. At least 512,632 times today. And those are just the number of thoughts concerning the dresser. My mind is constantly racing - mostly in good ways, mostly due to excitement - I like to daydream about holding the baby, seeing him for the first time, smelling the top of his soft, freshly cleansed little baby boy head, taking him to visit his grandparents and watching them smother him with love, having everything set up and waiting for him in his room, and, yes, dressing him in all of his adorable and unbelievably tiny little baby boy clothes. I try not to daydream about the impending doom of labor, our financial situation (i.e., how the hell are we going to afford a child?!), our job situations, or the other ten bazillion things that could very easily go wrong with the baby, with us, with our lives in general. This whole parenting thing doesn't compliment my worrywart tendencies very well, and I know it'll only get worse and will never go away. I think the most annoying part of it all is the fact that I can never decide whether I'm stressed out or really damn excited. I've told Stephen that I keep having the weirdest emotions recently - I'll suddenly feel the happiest of happy and the saddest of sad at the exact same time. I feel like I'm bi-polar, except I experience the mania and depression together. It's very bizarre and I pray it's not a sign of me beginning to lose it.

I'm really enjoying this time of my pregnancy, though. The due date is far enough away that I haven't begun to panic too too much, but yet is close enough that I can really start to get excited. My main complaint right now is the constant backaches that only seem to be getting more uncomfortable as I grow. There's really no relief for them - I'm pretty much equally in discomfort whether I'm standing, sitting or lying down. Also, I've become thoroughly convinced that my baby is actually a giant tapeworm, consuming all of my food, leaving me with an insatiable appetite. Luckily it doesn't take much to make me full, since my stomach doesn't have much room for expansion anymore, but about a half an hour after I eat I'm ready for more. I really wouldn't mind this so much - remember the agony I felt when I had zero appetite because I love to eat - except for the awful indigestion I get in return. I haven't been having much heartburn, but instead I'm blessed with the ability to throw up a little in my mouth every time I burp. Mmm. I've also reached the point in my expansion in which I feel I honestly cannot grow any larger. I know if I were to read this in a couple of months I'd laugh hysterically at my poor, naive self, but I already feel like a tick about to pop. I think I've also begun experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions - my abdomen will suddenly become very tight for a minute and will feel so "full" that it's uncomfortable.

Baby Neener is constantly growing stronger, which both excites me and frightens me. His kicks haven't quite become painful yet, but they're definitely becoming more pronounced and sometimes uncomfortable. He really enjoys lightly thumping around in one spot on my right side - his tiny little bumps and thumps are so sweet and cute - and then WHAM! he'll haul off and suddenly kick me with all of his might in my ribs. It usually startles the crap out of me more than anything, and I just picture him in there wickedly chuckling over the fact that he's already blessed with the ability to torment me. He'd better learn to be a little nicer. After all, I'll be the one dressing him for the first few years of his life. There are soooo many adorable baby girl clothes out there I'm just dying to buy and could very easily dress him in.

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Dairy Barn Preparations: Part I

This weekend Stephen and I FINALLY finished carting out the remainder of the office junk from Baby Neener's room - granted, most of it is still sitting in boxes or randomly piled in the hallway right outside of the room, but that's beside the point. We also made an exhausting trip to Home Depot to pick out paint because, for some reason, Stephen doesn't want to keep the pale pink that's already on the walls. It took a good hour, but we finally found the perfect shade of sage green. (Or at least we hope we won't hate it once it's on the walls.) Our goal is to paint the room this week - as you can see, I've begun taping the baseboards - because my wonderful mothers and sisters are throwing me a baby shower this Saturday and it would be ever so lovely to have a prepared room all set to throw Baby Neener's treasures into.

Stephen suggested we document the transformation of the office into the baby's room. Since the office was such a huge pigsty that I absolutely refused to document the prior condition, we're instead recording the transformation of this lovely clean room into Baby Neener's room or, as Stephen has decided to refer to it, the Dairy Barn. Because, ha ha, I'll be doing a lot of nursing and milk pumping in this room. My dear, clever husband. So hilarious.

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Her Baby Cousin

Ella is so excited about her baby cousin I think she can hardly stand it. Every time I see her, she asks me, "Aunt Kimmie, when is my baby cousin coming?" Or, when she's super excited, she'll leave the "cousin" out of it, so it's just her baby. And really, in her mind, I believe she does view this as her baby; you know, the ultimate gift her favorite aunt could ever give to her - a real, live baby that will grow into her very own personal playmate. I'm just that awesome, you know. So anyway, I question her in return, "Well, when did I tell you he'd be here?" Her eyes will brighten as the lightbulb flashes on in her head. "After Christmas!" "That's right," I reply. "Christmas has to happen first, and then you can start getting excited about the baby coming because it won't be long after that that I should have him." Of course, this occasionally leads to the exhausting discussion of when Christmas is - after Halloween, after her birthday, after Thanksgiving - but, typically it satisfies her impatience for at least a couple of hours.

Ella loves to inform me of what a wonderful big cousin she's going to be - actually, she's going to be such a wonderful cousin that she's stepping up her role a notch and proclaiming that she's going to be his big sister. I never correct her on this because I think she knows she won't technically be his big sister; I think this is just her way of letting us know what a close relationship she plans on having with Baby Neener. So, if she wants to be his honorary big sis, then more power to her. I think she must lie in bed at night reviewing her mental checklist of all the great accomplishments she wishes to pursue with her baby: reading to him, holding him, giving him his bottle, teaching him to ride a bike, playing in the pool with him, and teaching him to potty ("...and when he goes in his pants I'll say, 'ewww!'").

We visited with her last weekend, and now it seems she's taken the excitement over my pregnancy to the next level. As you can see from the picture below, she's pregnant, too. And apparently, she's much further along than I am, as her "belly" (comprised of a pillow that kept popping out from under her dress) greatly outshines my belly. My four year-old niece, pregnant. Her mother was so proud. I'm still waiting to learn when she'll allow me to come over and play with her daughter again.

I'm very relieved, though, that Ella is so excited over having another child enter the family. I was a little worried at first because Ella has literally been the center of the universe for all of us over the past four years, so I wasn't sure how she'd handle the news that someone new was going to come along and require attention that would normally be given to her. However, I've come to the realization that Ella lives in a world of adults - quite a boring world for a little kid - and craves companionship from a fellow youngster. Not to mention, she'll finally not be the youngest person in the family, which has quite a few perks of its own. Like, someone to blame your mischievous doings on and - FINALLY - someone other than Pa Pa whom you can boss around.

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TMI Warning

As you may have noticed, I have been primarily using my blog over the past several months to document my pregnancy. For one, I was too sick and/or lazy and/or cheap to go out and buy a pregnancy journal to write in. Besides, if I had, chances are I would have been too lazy to write in it. I don't know why, but I find typing easier and more enjoyable, so I figured this method of documentation would be more utilized. Two, it's so much easier to direct people to my blog when they ask questions than to repeat stories a million times. Again, this goes back to me being lazy. Three, I'm pregnant. It's kind of a big deal and it's kind of on my mind a lot. You know, like all the time. I've found it quite difficult to post about any other subject lately because, well, my mind is just a teensy bit focused on the crazy/exciting/scary changes that are taking place in my body, life, and marriage. Four, it's my freakin' blog and I'll post about whatever I want to post about. If people don't like it, then people don't have to read it. With that being said, I'm forewarning you, my beloved readers, that I'm about to divulge what most would probably consider a little too much information. Get out now while you have the chance.

Now that the squeamish have gone and all that are left are those who are morbidly curious - people after my own heart - I am free to talk about whatever I want to talk about, and I want to talk about my boobs. Not my old boobs, though...

My new magical mommy boobs.

I asked my mother just on Sunday night when I could expect to start having leaky breasts. She said it'd probably start to happen in the 7th or 8th month. The past two mornings I woke up with light-colored dried spots on my t-shirt. I expressed my suspicion to Stephen this morning that I thought the leaking may have begun. Then, sure enough, I was sitting at work typing away when I got a strange, warm, prickly sensation in my ta-tas. A little scared, I gingerly looked down my shirt and the weirdest thing was happening: liquid was coming out of my boobies!

Of course milk production is totally natural. Of course I was expecting it to happen. But how did I feel when it did happen? Honestly, a little creeped out! My boobs have never leaked before (obviously), so according to my past experience, this was NOT a natural occurrence. At the same time, though, I felt amazed and strangely proud and wanted to stand up and tell everyone in the whole world about my incredible boobs. Yes, yes, I know I'm nowhere near being the first or last woman to have leaky pregnant breasts, but that really doesn't make any difference because this is the first time I'm having this experience, so in my head, YEAH, it IS a huge milestone!

For some strange reason, Baby Neener is pretty excited about this big occurrence, too.

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Reaching a New Level of Unsanitary

The cats sleep in our bed with us, even lie on our pillows. They lie in our bathroom sinks and shower. They romp all over our clean clothes on laundry day. And now, it appears we're allowing them to climb into our refrigerator and help themselves to all the pickles and bottled water they want.

If we ever invite you over for dinner, please disregard ever having seen this picture.

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Week 26: Farewell, Second Trimester

I am almost two-thirds of the way through my pregnancy; this is the last week of my second trimester.

It's been a good trimester, and I'm kind of sad to see it go so quickly. It brought me eventual relief from the wretched first trimester. I had renewed energy so I could actually get off of my sofa most evenings, if I'd wanted to. I was big enough in size so that I looked pregnant rather than just bloated, but still small enough that I remained fairly mobile, without many aches or pains. I know all of this is about to change, and in some ways it is already.

I still feel pretty energetic in spirit, but I've noticed in the past week or two that my body is beginning to lag behind. I've had minor back aches the entire pregnancy, but they've increased a great deal recently. If I'm not complaining about my back hurting from sitting, I'm whining about it hurting from walking, standing, doing laundry, or sleeping. And sleeping...oh God, how I miss sound sleeping! I see now what my books have meant when they've stated that pregnancy sort of prepares your body for the arrival of a newborn - all of the tinkle trips in the middle of the night and the inability to get comfortable really makes it difficult to get much rest, so I guess when the baby comes along it won't be as shocking to my system to be up much of the night with him. I feel like I'm going through training for the marathon that is new motherhood. Bending over is really becoming a challenge already - Seriously, I had no idea putting on my underwear would be such a balancing act, and it's only going to get worse?! And, something I didn't think I'd experience so soon but have discovered in the past week is shortness of breath. There are times, like right now, that I'm able to breathe normally and easily. But at other times, like all morning long this morning, I feel like I can't catch my breath, like I can't suck in enough oxygen to satisfy my lungs. I've been feeling these strange squirmy sensations in my rib cage over the past week, so I guess my organs are probably beginning to shift and squish upward and out to make room for Baby Neener. I've been feeling very full lately - I feel like a scarecrow whose torso is overstuffed and overflowing with straw. And I still have over three months of growing to do? How is this possible? Nevermind, I don't want to think about it.

It's not all bad, though, and the things that are bad aren't "first trimester bad." It's tolerable. (Says the girl just entering the final trimester. We'll see what I'm saying in a couple of months.) And, it's comical at times. I think it's very funny that I have to contort my body in strange ways to shave. Putting socks on my feet? Laughable! I just know Stephen finds it totally arousing the way I flop around in bed like a fish out of water when trying to turn myself over. It's also nice because now that I'm getting bigger, and as some have accused me of beginning to waddle, people can sense my growing helplessness and offer to help the poor pregnant girl. Today at work, Tatiana offered to get my water out of the refrigerator for me and "meet me halfway" because I looked tired, and Jennifer wedged herself between the copier and wall to rescue some papers I'd dropped in front of her. The best part? I don't even have to ask - people are just nice and help! I'm terribly excited about the freeing of Baby Neener in a few months, but I can't help but wonder how I'm going to function with the loss of my round, pregnant belly. I'll have to start picking up my dropped pencils myself again, and I'm just not sure I'm ready for the return of that kind of responsibility.

The most fun part, I think, of this upcoming trimester is going to be the increasing awareness of the realness and inevitability of the arrival of our baby. It's been easy to put off thinking about certain aspects of parenthood or making some preparations for his arrival because we've been able to shrug and say we have until January. January is not as far off as it was, and is only going to grow nearer. While sick and pretty much homebound most of the weekend, I did finally wash all of Baby Neener's clothes, blankets and sheets. The baby's room is still a mess, but slowly the mess is being transferred into boxes to be placed in the garage indefinitely. It's my goal to have the room ready-to-paint in the next couple of weeks. My Lord, for once in my life I'm not completely procrastinating doing chores - could it be I'm actually excited about this kid?

According to my weekly pregnancy update e-mails, I can expect to grow about a 1/2 an inch per week from here on out. (What? Come on, is that even possible?!) Baby Neener is around 13 inches long and weighs about two pounds. And the news that made Stephen proud? Baby Neener's testicles have begun their descent into his scrotum! If that's not party-worthy, I don't know what is.

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In Sickness & in Health, We Celebrate Number Five

Today I decided to stay home from work and bask in the pleasures of being ill, which pretty much consists of laying around, moaning, groaning, sneezing, blowing my nose, and coughing. I won't complain too much, though - the last time I was ill I spent the day puking, nauseous, and bed-ridden. Give me a cold over the stomach flu any day. Needless to say, things haven't been very exciting around here the past week. Stephen was sick with the same crud last weekend that lingered around for the majority of last week. Lucky me - I read that, because pregnancy lowers the resistance of your immune system, illness tends to last a little longer in pregnant women, so maybe I'll get to experience two weeks of sick. Lovely.

In the midst of The Sick, Stephen and I celebrated our five-year wedding anniversary on Friday, the 28th, by bargain hunting for summer clothes on the clearance rack for Baby Neener at Old Navy and eating Papa John's pizza in the comfort of our living room while watching Law & Order. I can't say it was the most romantic evening we've ever spent together, but that two hours out of the house was pretty wild, indeed, considering the fact we were both feeling like crap. Stephen was very sweet, however, and brought home an autumnal bouquet of flowers for me, which are pictured below. (Notice Charlie in the picture, trying to gobble up leaves, who I tried to push numerous times away from the flowers but was unable to due to his insanely strong greenery obsession. This is why the flowers are being kept on top of the mantle, out of the reach of kitties' mouths.)

It's hard to believe it's been five years since our wedding day, but then again, it's also hard to believe we've only been married for five years since we've been together for eleven years total. I think the fact that we've been together since the beginning of our senior year of high school, back when we were still kids, makes it feel like we've been together all our lives. People have asked me whether I ever feel like I missed out in college and in my early twenties, not getting to date around and really become my own person. Honestly? Sure, occasionally at the time the grass would seem greener and I'd be envious of my friends who were dating lots of guys and partying and having fun. There were even a few times in early college when I struggled with the decision of whether or not to stay in my relationship with Stephen. But, luckily I was a smart girl and realized what a good guy I had. I often think about the fact that having found each other when we were so young probably also kept me out of a hell of a lot of trouble. Just think of what a giant whore or drunk I could have become! (Because, you know, that's so in my nature to be those things.) Looking back, I don't regret in the slightest my decision to stay with Stephen, rather than to "live it up" during my college years. I feel very blessed that we were able to sort of grow up together during that rocky transition from the teenage years to young adulthood. I'm happy that we were given the chance to grow slowly as a couple over our high school and college years so that when we finally were able to get married, we had already established a strong foundation between each other. And, as I sit here and feel Baby Neener kicking inside of me, I'm happy we waited five years into our marriage before having children so that we had plenty of time to mature into a couple wanting to start a family, wanting to further expand our relationship, rather than a couple feeling like they ought to start a family.

Anyway, happy anniversary to my Neener - thank you for putting up with me and my insanity over all these years and for being such a wonderful husband. I honestly can't wait to enter the next phase of our marriage in January.

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Word from the Doctor: You Could Break Your Placenta Doing That

This morning we had our fifth doctor's appointment. Other than getting to hear Baby Neener's heartbeat again, the visit was pretty dull and uneventful.

Well, scratch that - I did learn something new. I told my doctor about the unfortunate tumble I took last weekend because the right piece of my "landing gear" is still a little tender. I figured it was fine, but it was the only thing I could think of talking about when the doctor does her usual pressing us to ask her questions or discuss things. I always feel like I'm a bad, uncaring mother when we go in there and never have hardly any questions for the doctor, but with all of the pregnancy books, the internet, and friends and family members who have recently been pregnant, most of my questions or concerns get answered prior to my doctor's visits. But, I want her to feel like she's important, so I try to come up with a couple of random things to discuss. This time I chose my sore boob. She reassured me and stated she highly doubts I've broken any milk ducts. However, shame on me, I should have called them after I fell and if I ever fall again I had better inform them right away in case they need me to go to the hospital for a few hours of monitoring. I replied that I would have had I landed on my stomach. She informed me that it doesn't matter - even if I don't land on the baby, even if I land on my butt, the fall could jolt my uterus and cause bad things to happen, like make the placenta rip away. Luckily, she said if everything has been fine this past week and the baby's been active (oh God has he been active), then I didn't do any damage because there would have been signs by now if I had. WELL THANKS FOR TELLING ME NOW! Maybe it should have been common sense for me to call in, but honestly, if I didn't land on my stomach, how was I to know I still could have harmed the baby? Shouldn't they have instructed me at the first appointment that if I fall, no matter how slightly, that I should call them because I could do damage without knowing it? I mean, wasn't the "clueless" sign I had written all over my forehead noticeable enough?

I'm not bitter or anything. And I don't feel like a moron. Or a bad mother. Really, I don't. Not at all.

Aside from that, everything appears to be fine. I've put on another five pounds over the past month, which brings me up to a total weight gain of a whopping seven pounds (I'd lost three in the beginning, but I'm up ten from that point). The baby's heartbeat was normal and stronger than last time - the nurse didn't have to search for it at all like they have had to in the past. Next month I will have what will hopefully be my last batch of bloodwork when they do the glucose screening test. And then, after the next visit, I'll start going in to see the doctor every two weeks instead of every four. The last trimester is quickly approaching!

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Big Realization

I was reading my "What to Expect When You're Expecting" book last night before I went to sleep, which I hadn't opened in at least several weeks. I flipped forward to the next month from where I had last read, only to discover I'm not in month five as I'd been thinking. I'm in month six.

Yikes.

Actually, I'd overheard my attorney talking about me to someone on the phone the other day and the fact that I'm six months pregnant. I remember thinking, hello, five months pregnant, come on don't you pay attention at all? Guess it's been me who hasn't been paying attention. But, since they don't really count pregnancy in months anymore, rather it's kept track in weeks, it can become difficult to figure out exactly where you are on the scale without doing some serious calculating in your head. And looking at the calendar. And I just don't have time for such nonsense. I've got lots of episodes of "Law & Order" to keep up with on TiVo.

Anyway, I skimmed through month six of my book, and do you know what it fails to mention? How I'm going to feel when six months of carrying Baby Neener slaps me in the face unannounced, making me realize just exactly how quickly this incubation time is passing, and also making me realize how unprepared we are.

Sure, we've got some of the "important" things taken care of already. We're in love, have a strong relationship that's been built over eleven years, married for several years and out of the "honeymoon" phase, have a house, have insurance, and have supportive family and friends. And, oh yeah, we planned on having this child. I mean, we actually had sex for procreational purposes. Crazy, I know.

But the "little" things, the things I would oh-so love to have all figured out and taken care of by the time January rolls around, the things I have no guarantees will get done? Driving me insane. And now that this deadline we've created for ourselves is fast approaching, I'm finding myself even more panicked. The baby's room is still mostly full of office clutter that needs to be boxed up and moved to I-don't-know-where. The baby's room still needs to be painted, and in order to do that, paint needs to be purchased and afore mentioned office clutter must be boxed up and moved to I-don't-know-where. Baby Neener has no crib, no dresser, no curtains (but does have curtain rods, thanks to the sweet deal I found online at Land of Nod several months ago - I rest so much easier at night knowing I rushed out and found flippin' curtain rods), and no rocker with which his mommy can rock him to sleep. Of course, I guess he doesn't need to sleep considering he has no crib. Ah, but wait - I did read in one of my books that you can let your newborn sleep in a drawer - whew! Guess he's good to go, then. Our financial planning came across a very big and unexpected hurdle when the new job Stephen took in early June didn't work out. Unfortunately, he's still yet to find anything solid or anything more than part-time crap work. Which not only leaves finances tight, but also leaves potential plans we had made - such as us wanting me to stay at home with the baby - up in the air and needing possible alternative plans in place. Like daycare. Which leaves me with one word on the expense of good, reliable, well-accredited daycare - OUCH.

I realize we all have our own forks in the road of life, ups and downs, battles to conquer - I know we aren't immune from the frustrations of life, even if we are expecting a child. I also realize things could be "much worse" - and, as Stephen so appropriately replies to such phrases, "Well, no shit, things can always be worse, that doesn't make me feel any better." It's just really frustrating when there's this part of me screaming I TOLD YOU SO repeatedly in the back of my mind, the pessimistic part of me that was very, very apprehensive about starting a family, not because I wasn't ready to or didn't want one, but because I just knew there would be problems that would pop up. I know how my luck goes, how the plans always seem to change when you least expect them to - I knew the minute we locked ourselves into starting a family was going to be the minute our problems went from being just our problems to our family's problems. I'm a perfectionist, and it's crippling to me when things don't go exactly as I want them to.

Which brings me back to my realization. I'm in my sixth month of pregnancy. I've got just over three more months to get over myself, to not only tell myself everything is going to work out but to actually convince myself to fully believe that is the case. Because it always does work out. Maybe not the way we want them to, maybe not the way we'd planned them to, but things always do work out. I just wish we had a little more time for things to work themselves out.

Of course, I pride myself in my sweet procrastination skills. Maybe it's a good thing we only have a few more months left to go. I always wrote my best essays the night before they were due. Who's to say I can't work the same magic under pressure in our current circumstances? I think I can, but pray for the sanity of myself and those close to me. I get pretty crazy with stress when I'm under the pressure of procrastination under normal circumstances...mix that in with pregnancy hormones and discomfort and we could have a possible explosion on our hands...Just kidding. I hope.

For the record, one thing is for certain, however, and that is the fact that my baby will NOT be sleeping in a drawer. I will sell a couple of my beloved purses, if necessary, to buy him a crib, but he will NOT be sleeping in a drawer. Call me spoiled or snobby, but that's just a whole other level of sad and pathetic to which I refuse to let myself or my child go.

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Week 24: Goodbye Feet, Hello Jimmy Legs

Things have been relatively peaceful in the world of pregnancy over the past few weeks - I must be experiencing the time that is supposedly the "most comfortable stage" of pregnancy. I still tire pretty easily, but that horrible, sickening exhaustion I was going through seems to be long gone. I'm more prone to heartburn, but as long as I keep an eye on what and how much I eat, and take Pepcid at the onset, it's not too bad. Minor backaches are almost a constant now - doesn't matter if I've been sitting, standing, or laying down - but they've yet to be so bad that I can't handle them and have to take Tylenol. As my feet have disappeared from a straight-down view, I've also noticed that my belly button is beginning to become more and more shallow. I don't know why, but this totally creeps me out so all I can do is try not to think about it or watch it happen. (Although, you know there'll be a future post on my new outie.) With the belly gaining circumference, it seems my center of gravity is beginning to either shift or disappear altogether. I know it's very hard to believe, but lately I've found myself stumbling significantly more than usual. In fact, on Sunday I gave everyone an unnecessary scare when I fell at Mom's. You know if, God forbid, I were to slip in the tub or fall down the stairs and hurt the baby, I could chalk it up in my mind and conscience as a complete accident and maybe one day forgive myself. But, falling because I'm frantically running from a bee as if I were a five-year old child? Honestly, if something had happened to the baby, words can't even begin to describe the amount of guilt I would carry around with me the rest of my life. Fortunately, my right knee and one of the baby's future milk sources managed to somehow break my fall, so I didn't land on my stomach at all. I knew there was another reason women's boobs grow larger during pregnancy - landing gear!

If you're still worried about my tumble, Baby Neener has still been kicking the crap out of me since then. Maybe even more so. I do believe my stupidity has officially pissed him off.

I swear, every week his movements become stronger and more noticeable to me. I feel him almost constantly now - not just when I lay down on my back and concentrate. However, sometimes it's when I'm laying on my back that he puts on the best shows. Last weekend, for instance, I witnessed him press himself (his head or his butt, not sure which) up against my stomach so I could see a large bulge rise up, then slowly move across my belly, then slowly back. It was the weirdest thing and made me equally joyful and creeped out. So anyway, his actions are continually growing more forceful, though they are still enjoyable to me. I do believe he may have inherited his daddy's jimmy legs, and in a couple of months I'm not so sure these kicks will be as wildly entertaining to me as they presently are.

Baby Neener is now around eleven inches long - that's almost a foot long fetus! - and weighs approximately 1 1/4 - 1 1/2 pounds. It sounds like he's pretty busy with important things right now, like more fully developing his brain and lungs, and growing taste buds.

Ever since seeing him during our ultrasound, I find myself spending great amounts of time envisioning what exactly he'll look like. Will he be hairy like me, complete with a little hair patch on his lower back and thick bushy eyebrows? (Thanks, Dad - that's always becoming on a girl.) Will he inherit Stephen's slightly crossed eyes? I hope he inherits my butt, teeth, hair, and feet, but gets Stephen's nose, face shape, hands, and smile. Between the two of us, though, he's bound to be fair-skinned and suffer from acne. Sorry, little sweetie. You'll still be the most handsome Baby Neener of all and, more importantly, you're also apt to inherit some pretty sweet sarcasm skills. Which, I know, one day we will rue for giving to you.

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New Contributor

I, Stephen, have added myself as a contributor to Neener Neener (until Kim reads this and pulls the plug). I have made a post already and hope to make more in the near future.

The Flatulating Unicorn isn't dead. I just have no idea what to do with it.

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All Is Well

Kim and I went to Greenwood to visit the Major and the Colonel to see how they were doing while Mom and Dad were on holiday in Northern California.

The cats are doing fine.

While Mom and Dad are gone, they are being fed and are getting their bathroom cleaned by one of Mom's co-workers.

They were happy to see us. The Colonel enjoyed himself by climbing on everything including the beautifully pregnant Kim. The Major enjoyed himself be constantly being underfoot while I cooked dinner and washed a comforter.

Below are two pics that prove the the felines are indeed in great spirits even though they miss their parents and look forward to their homecoming this weekend.

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Sweater Weather Alert!

I realize it's totally lame to post about the weather, but when something other than an alarm clock or my bladder is able to drag my lazy pregnant butt out of bed before 11 a.m. on a Saturday morning, it just has to be documented.

It's currently a crisp 52 degrees outside, with a high today of 67, sunny, and the sky is a beautiful bright blue with fluffy white clouds.

Thank God fall is just around the corner - I love this weather. In celebration, I'm making myself a couple of hard-boiled eggs, toast, and chocolate milk for brunch (in lieu of my usual oatmeal or cold cereal), and afterward, I may even feel motivated enough to clean out the remaining mess of the office that's still lurking in Baby Neener's room. Or at least some of it.

I know how to live it up.

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The Lone Pregnant Woman

It appears I have lost my two cohorts in pregnancy just since this weekend.

Stephen's cousin, Cassie, had her baby boy, John "Jack" Riley, on Saturday. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten to see the little squirt, yet, but Stephen was able to drop in for a brief visit with the Doyles yesterday after his work training in Cincinnati. I can see from the pictures he took he's certainly quite the little cutie, but I look forward to hopefully finding this out for myself soon. Baby Neener is very excited to have yet another little boy in the family to romp around with at all the *yawn* family gatherings.

Dawn had her baby girl, Emerson Paige, late Monday morning. I visited them in the hospital yesterday evening, and they both appeared to be doing great. Emmie had some issues during labor - she apparently thought she needed to come into the world all dolled-up for her awaiting audience. Unfortunately, a girl doesn't have access to many accessories in the womb, so the creative little gal tried to make herself a necklace out of her umbilical cord. Fortunately, her fashion faux-pas didn't do much harm - she did have to have ample tests run on her and was placed in the NICU, but she's doing well now.

I only have this picture Dawn sent to me off her cell phone (of course I forgot my camera yesterday), but you can be certain I'll have more pictures of her up in the near future. I have to say that Baby Neener's future girlfriend (you know, as soon as he gets his butt out of the womb, too) is quite the looker. I think I'm going to have to keep my eye on him...

Congratulations to Cassie & Pete and to Dawn & Jim! I'm sad to lose my pregnancy sisters, but relieved to gain two more people who can show me the ropes when Baby Neener arrives in his clueless mommy's arms in a few months.

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Baby Neener's Future Friends?

I received word today that Dawn is going to be induced into labor this upcoming Monday. I'm so thrilled! I mean, not only because I'm happy that she'll finally get to meet her baby daughter, but because I can get a head start on the approval screening process. See, Dawn and I have decided that our children will be boyfriend/girlfriend and will eventually wed. Dawn, I hope you realize I'm going to need some evenings of watching your child for you so I can get a full grasp of her character and integrity. I don't want my son marrying a floozy, you know. Of course, when Baby Neener arrives, I would highly recommend you do the same thing because with him being my child, he's very apt to have no self control.

And speaking of questionable characters, look at the picture of Rowan I found while perusing The Daily Squink. I guess this picture doesn't surprise me too much, considering the last time I held him he practically mauled me trying to get into my shirt to my boobs. Is this the sort of fellow my child is going to pal around with and look up to?!

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Thoughts on Having a Son

Our ultrasound was this morning, and we had very happy results:

(1) Baby Neener appears to be healthy and normal.

(2) Baby Neener is a BOY.

And, he apparently likes to flaunt his junk. The technician plopped the do-hickey wand on my belly and at the first image that popped up when she focused on the baby she exclaimed, "It's a boy!! He's got it all hanging out right there!" See, she had forewarned us when we first arrived that sometimes they can't tell the gender if the baby isn't in a certain position. I said to Stephen that knowing our child, it probably wouldn't cooperate and after all this we wouldn't get to find out the sex. He said, nah, knowing our child, it'll be spread eagle. Does Stephen know his son well, or what?!

It's funny because it seems like everyone except me knew what I was going to have a long time ago, and sure enough, out of that 50/50 shot, everyone was right. I really had no "sense" or "feeling" on what the baby is, and I really had no strong preference for either. Granted, being a woman, I have to admit a big part of me wanted a little girl to baby and dress up. But, over the past couple of months I'd heard so many people state their predictions that Baby Neener is a boy that I had really kind of gotten myself excited at the prospect of having a son. I think I'm most looking forward to witnessing the development of the father-son bond between Stephen and Baby Neener. When I asked him about how he felt about having a son, he quickly stated he's excited because now he'll finally have someone with whom to play golf and other sports. For me, a girl who grew up solely with other women, this will be a BIG learning experience. But, I have to say there's something strangely comforting about knowing I'll have a son. It's almost like we'll have a back-up man of the house for killing spiders and scrubbing the litterbox and cleaning out fuzzy things in the refrigerator that have made their way to the back, back corner. You know, all those gross things that I don't want to touch with a ten-foot pole. Boys are just cool in that respect - they're tough and don't mind doing crap like that. Or, at least, they put on a good face about it.

I really hope Baby Neener has his daddy's wonderful sense of character and personality. I've always said that Stephen isn't like the stereotypical man - he's not harsh, overly opinionated, stubborn, womanizing, selfish, focused only on sex. I thank God every day he is the sweet, caring man that he is and I hope he passes on some of those sweet genes to our son. Sure, I'll be honest, sometimes I get annoyed when he wants to go visit his parents or my parents on a weekly basis, or when I can't get through to him on his cell phone because he's been on the other line with his mom. But overall, I think it's that family-oriented nature of his that makes him such a devoted and great husband, and soon-to-be father. He really is going to be the best dad ever, and I'm so grateful that, God willing, my child is going to grow up in a household that has two parents so committed to each other and their family. And, since I've been pregnant and am starting to think about some things from a totally different perspective than I used to, I look at Maryann and my mother and realize how lucky they are, that their children actually want to spend time with them and care for them. I can only pray that our children will be as good to us in the future.

Mainly, though, I'm just absolutely THRILLED that there are two arms and two legs where they're supposed to be, and the brain, kidneys, stomach, bladder, and heart seem to be functioning properly. Of course I won't let my guard down too much...there's always the chance that something will go wrong with my child, whether while still inside my body, during birth, or at any point up until I die. It's the curse parents are stricken with for the rest of their lives - horrible worry and fear over their child's well-being.

But for now, at this moment in time, I can breathe easy and be ecstatic over our sweet, healthy boy fetus.

And most importantly of all, I can finally add some gender-specific products to our baby registries!

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A Little Nervous and a Lot Excited

I can't remember the last time, if ever, I felt this strange mix of emotions that I'm feeling this evening as I await going to my ultrasound tomorrow morning. It's kind of like the excitement I feel on Christmas Eve, mixed with the anxiety I used to feel on the day before the first day of school after summer break, peppered in with a little dread which I feel before any doctor's visit.

Good grief - how crazy am I going to feel when I start going into labor?!

I can't express the impatience I've had since the moment I found out I was pregnant. On the one hand, I want to know EVERYTHING, and I want to know it RIGHT NOW - I want to know the gender; his/her name; his/her personality; his/her interests; his/her career choice; his/her spouse; his/her children. On the other hand, I'm actually a little sad that this pregnancy is going by so quickly and it's already time to find out the gender (even though there for awhile I thought I'd be stuck in my first trimester FOREVER). Yes, yes, I know - I could just let the anticipation linger a bit longer and wait until the delivery, but I think it's important for us to find out so we can prepare for Baby Neener as best as we can. I realize it sounds ridiculous to say this while my baby is still in the womb, but I can't help but feel like he/she is already growing up way too quickly. Gosh, I mean, it seems like just yesterday Baby Neener was just a tiny Embryo Neener! And then, of course, beneath those feelings I'm worried they will find something wrong with the baby tomorrow.

To top it all off? I have to try to remember to give myself a cut-off time early tomorrow morning after which I cannot tinkle, as I have been sternly instructed to arrive with a FULL bladder for the ultrasound.

I feel like 8:45 a.m. is about a million years away right now and I can't decide if I want it to hurry up and fly by or if I want to savor the waiting period for as long as I can.

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Week 21: Entering the World of Mommy Pants

I am now in my 21st week of pregnancy, which is quite a big milestone as I am officially just over halfway through incubating Baby Neener. As rough as it's been at times, this pregnancy is still managing to fly by - before we know it, we'll be diapering Baby Neener's little baby butt.

This past week has also marked my surrender to maternity clothes. Granted, I have been wearing some maternity tops for a couple of months, but they were pretty baggy and I still had the option of wearing my regular clothes. But now my relationship with my old clothes seems to be over, or at least on pause - my button-down tops don't exactly button as they should over my belly or my bust anymore, and my regular tops are too short to cover up the bella bands which hold up my regular pants because they only fit when totally unfastened. And the bella bands are another story - Angela gave me two to borrow, and I've worn them religiously for the past couple of months as my belly has expanded. But, as the expansion continues, the bands are becoming more uncomfortable and less efficient at holding up my pants - I find them constantly sliding up my back and belly, leaving my unzipped zipper exposed and my pants hanging just barely onto my hips. It's time, I suppose, to move into maternity pant world. Luckily, Angela and Dawn have given me lots of maternity clothes already. The tops fit wonderfully, so I won't have to buy many of these at all. Unfortunately, though, my legs are shorter than most, so I'm unable to wear Angela's pants and will have to buy some myself. I've already bought one pair of jeans and two pairs of work pants, so I really only need to buy maybe another pair of casual pants and work pants and I should be good to go. But then I also have to worry about my darn boobs, who no longer think they need to fit inside the many perfectly good bras I already own. I've now grown a cup size since April, and from what I can tell, there's probably another cup size to go. I'm just praying my feet don't grow, too, as many women's supposedly do. Call me clueless, because I know I am, or at least I was, but I had no idea this whole baby-making project would require a complete new wardrobe!

Baby Neener's eyelids have apparently finished forming this week and he/she is about eight and a half inches long now and weighs around twelve ounces. I can tell that Baby Neener has really become much stronger in the past week, as I've been noticing more and more movement in my belly. That, or Baby Neener has recently found a way to pop popcorn inside my uterus. Either way, it's a pretty exciting milestone! I find myself spending much time with my hand on my belly feeling the tiny bumps from the outside of my body, and if I lay on my back and look at my bare stomach, I can see it twitch from time to time. Unfortunately, Stephen has been unable to detect these movements for the most part. Today, he finally felt one, but didn't believe me that it was, in fact, the baby's kick he was feeling. He stated that it just felt like a muscle twitch. I retorted, that's exactly what it feels like. So he questioned, well then how do you know it's not just a muscle spasm? I kindly informed him that I've never noticed my lower abdomen to be of a highly twitchy nature and it would be a pretty big coincidence if my lower abdomen decided to become spazzy right around the same exact time that the doctor, all of the books I've been reading, and all of my peers say is the time I should start to feel real fetal movements. Besides, I told him, the baby isn't big or strong enough yet to kick with enough force that would produce much more than this twitching sensation. This shut him up, but I still don't think I fully convinced him. Fortunately, we visited my mom this weekend and not only did she feel a baby twitch or two, but she also saw the movement of my spazzy belly. So, ha! I have at least one witness to the activities of my squirrely baby.

This Friday is a very important day for us, as I will have my ultrasound done and we will finally find out the gender of Baby Neener. I've been surprised by the number of people I've encountered who become discouraged when I tell them we aren't waiting until birth to find out the gender. Really, why does it matter? The gender is already determined - it was at the moment of conception - it's just a matter of whether or not we're aware of it. And why not find out as soon as you can, so you can better prepare? It's funny because I didn't realize how much of a touchy issue this is for many people - I just assumed that since they have the technology now, that most people do find out the gender at their ultrasounds. Apparently there are still a lot of traditionalists out there - obviously these people have loads more patience than what I do, and I admire them for that, really I do. However, my message to those folks is - don't worry yourself for our sake, because it will be just as magical when we find out the gender at our ultrasound as it would be if we waited until the birth. The way I see it, the birth is going to be magical no matter whether you already know the sex or not; after all, that will be the first time we'll get to meet our baby, our own flesh and blood. And, if you are still totally opposed to our finding out whether it's a Boy Neener or a Girl Neener, just let me know - I'll be more than happy to withhold the news from you until I deliver!

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Just a Wee Fetus and Already Completely Spoiled

I think I've figured out why my four year old niece, Ella, is so excited that Aunt Kimmie is going to give her a baby cousin. Turns out, she appears to be reaping many benefits from our procreational plans. Of course, this isn't to say she wasn't already pampered to begin with; quite the contrary, the kid has so many toys, games, movies, and books that you'd think there were four grandchildren living at my parents' house. However, since we've decided to start popping out my mother's grandchildren, some additional perks have arisen for the tike - see below.

This past weekend and probably at least another couple of weekends to come was and will be spent erecting the newest addition to the grandchildren's play paradise, aka, my parents' backyard. So far, they have an inflatable wading pool, a sandbox (which they do cover up when not in use so animals can't potty in it - the reason my mother preferred us not to play in sandboxes at the parks when we were little), a child-sized picnic table, and the beginnings of a huge playset monstrosity that will consist of two slides, a fort, two swings, a baby swing, and a glider swing. As you can see from the picture below, after the playset had begun to be erected, even my parents seemed to be a bit overwhelmed by the size of it. Will that stop their madness? Oh no. My mother is completely ecstatic over her plans to become ruler of all grandchildren near and far - the next project is going to be a playhouse.

My mother's ultimate goal? She flat out told me: Baby Neener will not want to be at home; Baby Neener will want to be at NeeNee & Papa's all the time. She even "threatened" that there will be some Friday evenings when she will come down straight after work, will pick up Baby Neener and take him/her back to her house (and I will not be invited), and if we're lucky we'll get him/her back on Sunday.

My response to that is, You call that a threat? My mother's quest to be the best grandmother ever could really work to our advantage. And, if we could just get Stephen's mother on board to strive to become most crazed grandmother, too, I have a feeling we'll be lucky enough to have all our weekends free and not have to spend a dime on babysitters.

Mothers are wonderful creatures, God bless them.

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Week 19: Good News from the Doc

This morning I took a couple of hours off for some much needed rest after I overdid it a little this weekend. I am so happy that I did. My doctor's office called and left a message requesting I call them regarding my test results from the bloodwork I had done just over a week ago at my last appointment. Needless to say, I totally freaked out because they never call when the results are negative. In fact, for past tests, I've always been told they'll only contact me if something is wrong. I nervously returned the call and - hallelujah! - the results were negative for any abnormalties with the baby. If I hadn't been there to receive that message this morning, I wouldn't have gotten it until after work, which means I would have had to have waited until tomorrow morning to call and get the results, which means I would have gotten ZERO sleep and probably an ulcer from worrying.

Anyway, long story short, Baby Neener appears to be doing great so far. Our ultrasound is just over two weeks away, and I'm hoping we get good results from it, too - i.e., images of a HEALTHY Baby Neener without any legs coming out of his/her head! Stephen is adamant that he doesn't care whether we're having a girl or a boy, as long as the baby's healthy. I have to agree with him. I keep saying, I don't care if it's a girl or a boy, as long as it's one of the two, and not some weird combination of the two. Of course I would still love my baby if it was transgender, don't get me wrong, but I would hate for my child to endure such a hardship.

Week 19 developmental updates: Baby Neener is about seven and a half inches long and weighs about seven ounces, his/her kidneys are making urine, and hair is beginning to grow on his/her head.

As for me, I'm continually growing more and more ecstatic about the little person growing inside of me while, as you can see from the picture, my belly is ecstatic to just be continually growing and growing.

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Charlie Anxiously Awaitsthe Arrival of Baby Neener

For some reason, Charlie isn't the biggest fan of dress up time, but he puts up less of a fight than the other two. He partially humors me, but says he can't wait for his Meowmie to have a real baby so she'll leave him the hell alone.

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Survival of Another Doctor's Visit

This morning we went to our third prenatal appointment with the doctor. Overall, I don't mind going to these appointments - we get to listen to the baby's heartbeat, and we get to get out of work for a couple of hours for a legitimate reason. However, I also find these appointments incredibly nervewracking. Like...how it took the nurse what seemed like ten minutes to find the baby's heartbeat. In actuality, it probably only took her 30 seconds, but her saying, "Where is it? Where is it?" repeatedly freaked me out more than just a little bit. Then, I got the pleasure of having more blood drawn....and we all know how much I love needles and blood. And, the lady didn't use a baby needle on me like the other lady did the last time. Bitch.

Everything was fine, though - Baby Neener's heart is still a-poundin', my tinkle sample was tested and is "normal," my uterus was measured and it's of "normal" size and proportion, I haven't blimped up (YET - I weighed exactly the same as last time, but my doctor didn't seem concerned about it - my luck I'll pack on 20 pounds in the next four weeks), and we scheduled our next appointment - the big one, the ULTRASOUND. I hadn't been aware of this, but nowadays you can bring in a blank DVD and they'll actually record the ultrasound for you - how cool! We are soooooo looking forward to this visit, we can hardly stand it. Although, this will be the moment of truth - whether Baby Neener does, in fact, have a leg growing out of the side of its head.

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Week 17 and Feeling Pretty Good

Finally, at the beginning of my seventeenth week, excitement is starting to take over as the lead emotion in this crazy mind of mine.

My belly is definitely beginning to grow. My gut is not terribly obvious yet to outsiders, but to me, it's blindingly clear that a baby is taking over my body. And surprisingly? I am loving my newly rounded belly. I was certain I would hate getting larger, but instead I find myself constantly touching and rubbing my tiny baby Buddha belly. When people point out that my stomach is apparently large for how far along I am (although I really don't think I look that big for it being my fourth month, but then again, I'm clueless), I actually feel happy and proud about it. Although, I must say, I really could do without the insinuations regarding me having twins. Not funny. Seriously not funny, people!

My nausea is almost all gone. I still feel a little pukey if I don't keep something in my stomach or when I get really tired, but it's nothing like the nausea I experienced the past two months. I'm still tired and my energy is low, but I haven't been falling asleep at my desk anymore. I'm beginning to get more backaches, but I kind of enjoy being able to ask Stephen to give me a backrub without my feeling guilty in return. After all, it is his child giving me these backaches, right? The only really annoying "symptoms" I still have are heartburn and lack of appetite. The only things I really seem to enjoy eating these days are Salsa Verde Doritos and Ritter's pineapple custard with the special sprinkles like Sycamore Ice Cream (from our hometown) uses.

Also, and this is just more of a maybe, but I think I've been starting to feel Baby Neener squirming around a bit. People have been trying to describe the feelings of what "fluttering" or "quickening" feels like, and of course, every single description has been different. I say, "So-and-so told me it felt like this to her when she first started feeling her baby move." And the response I always get is, "Really?! That's weird. Didn't feel like that at all to me - it's more like this kind of a feeling." So far, my cousin Kiley has given me the closest description to what I've felt - she ran her fingertip across the open palm of my hand and said it feels like that inside your belly. The sensation I've been having is sort of like that, but feels more like that weird feeling you get from sticking your finger deep in your bellybutton and wiggling it around (sadly, I know what this feels like because my mom has always delighted in torturing my sister and I by poking her finger deep into our bellybuttons and wiggling it around while we would squeal both from the tickling and from the horrible heeby-jeebies it would give us), only it's not in my bellybutton but inside my lower abdomen. I really hope this is Baby Neener I'm feeling. Otherwise, I don't know what the funk is going on down there.

We've begun setting up our baby registries, as well. Sure, it may be a little early to do so now, but considering how indecisive we are about things, we need all the time we can get to figure out what we want. So far, we've registered at Babies 'R' Us, Target, and Wal-Mart. You know, not because we want to register for everything under the stars, but just because we want to give people plenty of options if they so generously opt to purchase a gift for Baby Neener. We're only thinking about giving people options and convenience, you know. Stephen's love of obsessively researching various things for hours on end has usually gotten on my nerves in the past, but I have to admit I'm very much appreciating his sweet research skills right now. It's very overwhelming looking at all this baby stuff and not knowing what's needed, what's good and what's crap, and what the hell some of this stuff even is!

Now for the most important news: Baby Neener update! Baby Neener is about 6 1/2 inches long and weighs about four ounces. The ears are fully formed and in their final position (which I pray are on either side of his/her head) so, therefore, the sense of hearing is developing. Baby Neener is also beginning to form fat tissue. Wonderful. I just knew I needed to be eating more pineapple custard with sprinkles. We will be going to the doctor this Friday for our third prenatal exam. I don't think anything major will be taking place at this visit, other than hopefully getting to listen to the heartbeat again (our baby has a beating heart, how cool!!!) and I'll be having some bloodwork done to test for abnormalities with Baby Neener.

And now for the highly demanded belly pic! Um....looking at it....yeah, I kind of do look big....(eek!!!!!)

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I've Got Serious Talent

Recently having developed superhuman gag reflexes, I am now dubbing myself the Queen of Gagging. And, I've discovered this week it's not a pleasure to save just for teeth brushing time. Oh, my goodness, no. I find gagging so delightful that now I've pretty much decided I can gag at the drop of a hat. Literally. Drop your hat and I'll gag for you.

At least a few times a week I have issues brushing my teeth. Either my tongue or my back teeth decide they just do not want to be touched at all by Mr. Toothbrush, or toothpaste/saliva/rinse water will hit the back of my mouth at just the right (wrong) spot, and all hell breaks loose. As annoying as this is, and as much as I find this behavior completely unnecessary, I've learned to deal with - even laugh at - it. I mean, how retarded is it that I puke after brushing my teeth? And then, after puking from brushing, is it wise to brush again? Just think of the possible chain reaction!

But now I'm beginning to wonder if my mouth didn't hire a bouncer without consulting me first. Last night, trying to be a good mother to Baby Neener, I had a healthy dinner of a small portion of ceasar pasta salad, then a healthy snack of a peach, and another healthy snack of a very small bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats before bed. (Remember, I have to pretty much constantly eat to ward off nausea and, because I find it difficult lately to eat much more than kid-sized portions, I'm always hungry.) To top it all off, to nail down my Mother-of-the-Year Award, I took a prenatal vitamin. And then I proceeded to gag more violently than I can remember ever doing before, ran into the bathroom, and "released" all of Baby Neener's nourishment for the evening across the toilet lid.

As if that's not bad enough, at lunch I took a bite of my sandwich and gagged on it. No spewing involved this time, but it was frightening. I don't know what my body is trying to tell me. I thought brushing one's teeth, taking prenatal vitamins for the fetus, and eating were all good things...have I been mistaken all this time?

Only good I can find in this whole situation is that I've definitely lost my fear of puking. In fact, I feel I've become quite good at it. Not exactly a skill I had wanted to hone, but I guess beggars can't be choosers.

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"Cravings"

I've heard and read that many, if not most, women during their pregnancies experience food cravings. Now, I have yet to have any food cravings...there are foods that make me want to yak less than other foods, but that's a far cry from a craving, if you ask me. However, and I haven't heard or read anything on this, I swear I've been experiencing cravings that are non-food related. Is it possible to crave things other than food during pregnancy? Granted, I normally like these things, but in the past few weeks I've been pining away for them, even fantasizing about them. I can't attribute this sudden desire to anything other than me being pregnant. Anyone else experienced this in their pregnancy? Here are a few of the really strong ones:

* Bath & Body Works' Country Apple scented lotion. It reminds me of autumn and my freshman year at Purdue.

* 80's new wave music. In particular, I "just can't get enough" of early Depeche Mode, New Order, and The Cure. Also can't stop listening to Culture Club's "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?" and Madonna's "Get Into the Groove" on my iPod.

* Autumn. I am DYING for October to get here...Sweater weather, the look and smell of changing leaves, pumpkins, corny kids' Halloween movies on Disney (because real horror movies are too scary for me), crisp cool sunny days, caramel apples, apple cider with cinnamon sprinkled on top, the sound of Stephen watching football on tv....If I could go to bed with a season, Fall would be rocking my world.

* Origins' Ginger Essence perfume. (A) I swear it's helped with my nausea, (B) in my mind, it's what autumn smells like, and (C) it reminds me of getting married (I think I first fell in love with this fragrance just a couple of weeks before we got married).

* 90's music that either was popular or that I listened to a lot when I was in high school/early college....Pearl Jam, Our Lady Peace, Smashing Pumpkins' "Siamese Dream" and "Mellon Collie..." albums, The Cardigans "First Band on the Moon" album, Gin Blossoms, Filter's "Hey Man, Nice Shot", The Cure's "Wish" album....Oh the memories, man....

* Having the windows open in the house, watching the curtains dance in the breeze, listening to the birds chirp and the neighbors' windchimes sing, or at night, listening to the crickets being all crickety.

* Being with my mom...I wish I could see her every day!

* Taking a relaxing weekend trip and staying at a bed & breakfast. I'd love to go to Charleston or Savannah, but with our newly reduced budget, maybe we could try Madison, IN, instead? My favorite mother-in-law had suggested this a long time ago, but we never went. I think we need a little babymoon or two!

Upon review of my list, I think I might have a slight obsession right now with autumn - like, a restraining order type of obsession. Moreover, I realize that all of these things bring me comfort in some way...From the obvious comfort of having my mom around, to certain songs or genres of music reminding me of comforting times in my past...Maybe this is my soul's way of trying to counteract all the freaking out that's been going on in my mind lately and bring me back down to reality. A reminder that everything will be okay, and that even when I think I'm losing my mind, I can still find relief and comfort in certain things that remind me of how good life is.

Or maybe, just maybe, and probably, this entire post is just an illustration that the emotional instabilities I've yet to experience (SHOCKINGLY) are starting to take over my mind.

You may need to excuse any posts I make in the next few months. Make that a year.

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Week 15: Let the Freaking Out Begin!

I think this is the first week I've really started to think - like seriously think - about everything that's going on and changing in our lives. To be perfectly honest, it's pretty damn scary. Don't get me wrong - I know in the grand scheme of things that the changes that are taking place are wonderful and are changes we want to make in our lives, but that doesn't alter the fact that I'm terrified of change - planned or unplanned.

Stephen is currently looking for a new job. The least dramatic way to put it is, he's working on transitioning from his current new job into something hopefully better. I know this is putting a terrible amount of stress and worry on my poor husband, although he's such a sweetheart and doesn't show much of this worry to me so as not to burden me with that aspect of our lives. Although I'm carrying a growing buttload of burden both on my shoulders and in my gut, it bothers me that he should have to have this stress right now. He's such a smart guy, a hard worker, the nicest man you'll ever meet who truly would do anything for anyone and actually want to do it, and honestly a better husband than I could have ever wished for. He deserves to be happy and successful in a career, and it drives me crazy that he's continually dumped on. Despite the setback this is potentially putting on our plans, we're trying to think positively and hope for the best - that maybe something better will come along and I'll still get to eventually quit work for awhile and take care of the family. We know deep down it'll all work out and everything will be fine, but it's still aggravating that crap like this happens when things seem to be going our way. C'est la vie, I suppose.

And along the lines of work, I have been struggling with work, myself, the past few weeks. For starters, there are changes taking place that aren't seeming to be good changes and are making quite a number of us unhappy. This is stressful all on its own, but coupling it with the fact that I'm so exhausted and often just plain not feeling well makes it ten times worse. Seriously, working feels like torture lately and it's so hard to just suck it up and grin and bear it. Please say a prayer for me that my hormones won't make me go crazy one of these days and snap. As Nicole Richie was supposedly quoted in one of the "reliable" tabloids recently, "I don't want to have a jail baby!"

Oh, and the baby worries! Let's see...Saturday morning I woke up and was petrified that I'd somehow smooshed the baby during sleep and started freaking out that I ought to go to the doctor and hear the heartbeat, just to make sure it was still there. Thankfully, Stephen slept about an hour longer than I did, which was just long enough for me to talk some sense into myself. If I forget to take my prenatal vitamin one day? OH MY GOD, worst mother ever, RIGHT HERE! There's a part of me that's convinced my baby is going to be all shriveled up and deformed, because there have been a few days I did not take a damn precious vitamin. We get our ultrasound in a couple of months, and I'm trying to prepare myself for the news that our baby is both male and female....or that he/she only has one arm....or one foot....or maybe a leg where an arm should be....AND, here's a good one - WHAT IF I CAN'T FIND CURTAINS THE SAME SHADE OF ANTIQUE WHITE AS THE CURTAIN ROD THAT DON'T COST AN ARM AND A LEG?! Because until we get that ultrasound, I don't know if my baby can afford an arm or a leg!

I know these are just the beginning - the very, very tip of the iceburg - of a whole lifelong list of worries we'll have involving the wellbeing of this child. It comes with the territory, I know. I'm right now just trying to convince myself that it's a good sign that I have worries, that I'm concerned about our baby's welfare and lifestyle. Maybe it doesn't mean I'm crazy; maybe it means I'm ready to become a mother, ready to be a responsible parent, but just not sure what to expect. It's kind of exciting, the whole unknown of it all. It's also unbelievably terrifying and leaves me feeling out of control. And to think we planned all of this confusion....

Okay, here's what's apparently happening with Baby Neener this week, assuming all of my strange worries are hopefully false and just plain ridiculous: Baby Neener is five inches and weighs two ounces; Baby Neener's skin is so thin and transparent the blood vessels can be seen through it; Baby Neener's bones are beginning to ossify (are hardening from cartilage into bone); Baby Neener's ears are still developing externally and looking more normal; and, Baby Neener's eyes are still moving toward the nose, away from the sides of the head. (And there's another fear just implanted in my mind - Baby Neener being born with eyes on the sides of his/her head. Poor Baby Neener - what a sad picture I've painted in my mind of our unborn child.)

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Week 14: A Light at the End of the Tunnel?

It's the beginning of my fourteenth week of pregnancy, the beginning of my second trimester, and hopefully the beginning of the more enjoyable section of my pregnancy.

Things have slowly began to progress in the positive direction, as far as me feeling better is concerned. I no longer feel nauseous 24/7. On good days, I only feel nauseous when I allow myself to get too hungry or too sleepy. On bad days, the nausea comes and goes in constant waves throughout the day and I feel like a someone's backed over me with a Mack truck. But still, even on bad days, I can definitely say I don't feel nearly as bad as I did that first month and a half. With that said, hopefully that explains why I haven't been posting to my blogs or keeping in touch with my beloved family and friends as well as I normally do. It's a strange experience so far, this whole pregnancy thing: for months I was dying to get here, and now that I am, I've unfortunately felt as if pregnancy is just this giant boulder that has fallen on top of me. There for quite some time, my days consisted of being miserable at work from 8:30-5:00, coming home and crawling into bed, forcing myself to eat something for dinner in bed, and then moaning and crying myself to sleep. Weekends pretty much were the same, minus the being miserable at work part, spent in bed trying to muster the energy to take a shower, which would wear me out so much I'd have to spend the rest of the day in bed. E-mailing or calling anyone, let alone doing any social activities, seemed to be impossible tasks, and I had zero desire to be on the computer for more than ten minutes at a time.

Thankfully, things are improving. Though most weekday evenings are spent at home in my pajamas whining, at least I'm able to spend them outside of my bedroom. The past several weekends have actually been busy and required traveling. Though these trips have been exhausting, I have to admit it's felt pretty darn good to get out of the house for a day or two. My appetite still isn't anywhere near back to normal and I'm still sharpening my skills at toothbrush puking, but overall I am hopeful that I'm on the road to second trimester bliss and leaving crummy first trimesterville.

What I am most happy about, though, is that with the first trimester woes waning away, the excitement and joy of having a baby is finally starting to set in. I've been well enough to shop in small doses and have bought a few baby clothes, blankets and toys. We picked out colors for the nursery this weekend. The most exciting thing that has happened, though, is that on Friday we went to our second doctor's appointment and got to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time. That's right! Baby Neener has a heart! And it beats! The nurse, of course, thought I was a dumbass for proclaiming this realization, but she just didn't understand how I had convinced myself I was plagued with some rare and horrible illness that had symptoms identical to those of pregnancy. It was mind-boggling to hear those swish-swish sounds of our baby's heart and, again, realize that a person is growing inside of me. How is that possible?! Probably like most people, I was never able to fully grasp the whole concept of the miracle of life until now, as it's happening inside of me.

Anyway, we won't have an ultrasound for another two whole months, which is agonizing because we're dying to know whether Baby Neener is a girl neener or a boy neener. I, personally, am predicting it'll be one of the two.

Also, I'm apparently at the fringe of beginning to show. I've had two people, one a stranger and one who works in my building, come up and ask if I'm expecting. Thankfully for them, I am and having them recognize this made my day. The first was an elderly woman whom I encountered in a McDonald's restroom last week. I was wearing a baby doll top that day, so I'm sure that's really where she got the impression I was pregnant, but it was fun nonetheless. I've read about how random strangers will give you unwelcome advice when you're pregnant, but I haven't found any suggestions on how to receive unwelcome life stories from people when you're pregnant. Case in point: elderly McDonald's fellow restroom user shared with me while she tinkled how she never got married or had children, and now is a lonely 79 year-old woman who has no one to care for her and she regrets every day her decision to be so ambitious in her younger years. What do you say to that?! I was like, oh, I'm so sorry, um....(awkward silence). Don't get me wrong, I really feel bad for the woman; she was so sweet and nice and I'm sure she deserves a nice big family to take care of her in her golden years. And, I'm sure she only told me all of that to make me appreciate what I have going on in my life. But I'm a stranger. In a public restroom. It could only have been more awkward if she had directly asked me to take her home with me. Anyway, second time my pregnancy was spotted was on Friday, only a couple of hours after my doctor's appointment. This time I was not wearing a babydoll top, so I count this as my first official belly spotting. How exciting - I'm getting fat and the world is taking note!

According to my weekly e-mail update from the American Pregnancy Association, Baby Neener is about four inches long and weighs almost two ounces. The arms are lengthening and becoming more proportionate to the rest of the body. The liver is now producting bile, and the spleen is producing red blood cells. The brain has developed enough to allow Baby Neener to start making facial expressions, such as squinting, grimacing and frowning. Baby Neener may even be able to start sucking his/her thumb already!

Here's a picture of my 14-week old gut. Thanks to Angela for the comfy pants - she gave me several much appreciated bags of "fat"/maternity clothes to borrow. Please excuse the panty line - my word, how crude of me!

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