I Can See the Light...

Is anyone even reading this anymore? I have no idea. I know my posts get fewer & farther between, but that's only because I rarely have the energy to be as witty as I once was. Only 5 weeks left in this little adventure and it can't come soon enough. I sit here at my desk completely uncomfortable. There is a small foot (butt? arm?) that has lodged itself into my side. It feels like a boulder when I touch it and it hurts. Yes, child, you are already hurting your mother. Sitting is the worst possible position for me, so guess what I do all day at work? I sit. At my desk. Feeling sorry for myself. What I want to do is lay down and have a siesta underneath my desk. Occasionally I will get up to stretch my body out and take a lap or two around the building - that way I can move the baby around and look like I'm actually working - two birds with one stone! And today I am sweating. I feel like running to the break room and climbing into the freezer.

So, back to the 5 weeks. Yes!!! Finally, there is light at the end of the tunnel. There are times when I feel I've been pregnant forever. I'm tired now. My body is creaking like a 100-year-old door. And I haven't even had it rough...this has been easy to what it could have been. Sure, I probably shouldn't complain, but I'm going to anyway. Momma is sick of maternity wear. Sick of subleasing her body! Momma wants to be able to put on her beautiful new boots without panting or finally giving up and having hubby do it for her. Yes, that's right, my name is Mary and my husband occasionally helps me put my boots on. I want my boobies to be of normal size again (yes, I can forget that for awhile with breastfeeding), I want to actually be able to see the lawn while I'm manicuring it - another task hubby may have to take over (extremely scary to think about). I'd like the occasional cocktail. I'd like to be able to enjoy Pilates or a jog without being completely worthless for the rest of the day. All superficial and selfish reasons, I admit. The main reason is simply that I am impatient and want to meet the little one and be a mom. Not to mention, I've got some darling outfits I can't wait to put on the little monkey!

I never thought I'd be tired of talking about being pregnant, but I am. Every time I see someone it's the same damn questions - even if I just saw them the day before. I know, it's mean, but I've never once claimed to be a sweetheart. I am impatient and pregnancy magnifies that trait 100%. Everyone is an expert and has their opinions. They all seem to know the sex of the baby. Did they see something I didn't during the sonogram? Were they in the room? Is it possible that x-ray vision does exist? I know it's only going to get worse! I'm more of a "I'll ask you when I want to know" person...but I understand, people are only trying to help. I've been doing my reading and I know I'm not alone in this, but I still feel like a meanie.

So, in a few days we hit up the doctor for the 36 week appointment and I'm told I will have the Group B Strep test. I did a little research and come to find out, I will be violated in places that are exit-only. What in the eff? But the exciting thing is (well, as exciting as a pelvic exam can be) is that I will get an idea of baby's location and how I am starting to progress. Well, this is what I assume - but I am occasionally wrong. Personally, I do not want to be weighed anymore - the scale is no longer my friend. I think the nurse can make an educated guess and leave it at that. She can even shave off a few pounds if she is so inclined. Let's skip over the peeing in a cup ordeal - I usually miss and go all over my hand. I can't see down there, so I'm basically shooting in the dark. And I love the sign that says to collect the "middle portion" of the urine. By the time I actually hit the cup, it's more of a trickle, so they're lucky if they get any of it.

Ah, pregnancy. Enjoyable, delightful and wonderful, but I'm ready for the next stage. I don't mean to scare anyone into thinking it's a miserable experience, but it's time for it to be over!

I hope you all had a delightful holiday - those of you who still read this, that is. Take care and have a happy new year! xoxo

Impatient Irma

6.5 weeks left and I'm so ready I can't stand it. I never thought I'd be that impatient, uncomfortable, whale of a lady who felt like they couldn't stand it another day. I feel like I've been pretty easygoing throughout this whole deal, but now, I can't take it. I want to own my body again and no longer sublease it to this little one. I want to meet it! I want to put all of the cute outfits on it and kiss & love on it. I want to change diapers! I'd rather have lack of sleep because my little on is hungry! Not because my hips hurt or I'm having an atrocious leg cramp or because I can't roll over without my pubic (yes, pubic) bone hurting.

I hate to complain. Actually, I sort of like it, because this is the only time in my life I will be able to complain without people thinking I'm a total pain in the ass. And it's happened to me overnight. Last week I was carefree and comfortable and this week, I just want it to be over. My back hurts because my boobs are 48lb bowling balls! I don't, however, have the dreaded lower back pain (hopefully it won't come later) and I attribute that solely to Pilates (it has been working!!). I need back rubs. I need sleep. I need to be carried everywhere. Anyone have a wheelbarrow hubby can haul me around in? I need a reclining wheelchair to put the feet up on at all times. I want the baby to drop its little bod down low so that momma can breathe! So my ribs don't feel like they are in my throat.

Does pregnancy sound horrendous to you yet? Well, it should. Just kidding, folks. If 6 or 7 weeks of being uncomfortable and exhausted is all I have to worry about, then I'm all good. I suppose I could have been violently ill, swollen and puffy, vericose-veined, hemorrhoids, constipated, and then some. Ok, I'm starting to feel a little better about things. Slightly. Mostly, I'm just feeling sorry for myself. I'd like the husband to try and do this! I politely tell him to shut his piehole when he complains of being tired or sore. He has no business talking about it until he's waddled through life with an extra person in his belly. He may never be able to talk about it again, frankly. I might not let him - I might not ever feel sorry for him again.

In any case...little Baby needs to hurry up. I know it will come when it comes...but I wouldn't complain if it were just a few days early. :) Love & hugs to you all!

Walky Talky Hawky

I feel as though since just yesterday afternoon, my belly has doubled in size. From the time I left work, exercised and got home, I must have expanded at least 27 inches. Is this possible? Can my belly really grow over a matter of 2 hours? Dear child, what are you doing to your mother? I've taken the liberty of giving myself the nickname "Foghorn Legorn". My belly, coupled with a bubble butt (which I had pre-pregnancy) has rendered me the spitting image of the annoying rooster.

So, we had a doctor's appointment on Monday and every time I get weighed, I vow to close my eyes, then wind up peeking anyway just to make myself miserable. By normal standards, it's not a bad weight gain. It's only my belly and overflowing mammaries, but still. Someone in my pilates class said she couldn't tell I was pregnant from the back and I think she might have been high. I feel that my hips and width has tripled. How in the hell am I going to slither into my pre-mom jeans once the baby is out? My doctor is not worried, so why am I in a constant state of panic? I worry about stretch marks. I'm thinking...just under 2 mos left so there's still time if they want to rear their ugly head. I have this horrible feeling that my stomach is going to burst outward with a rainbow array of red & purple. Therefore, not only do I use my Palmer's Cocoa Butter Stretch Mark Cream twice a day, I have also taken to using pure Vitamin E oil, as well as lathering up with some lotion at work when I use the restroom. Time consuming, but I figure I can't be too cautious. Does it even work? Could I be any more vain? Imagine if anyone at work could see me - dress up, tights down, shirt up, whatever - slathering lotion all over my oversized belly. Out of all of the things I stress about, this is it. You'd think it would be child deformities, brain damage, labor complications, but no. Well, that's not true, I have worried about all of those things, but I have the utmost confidence in sonograms and medical technology.

So, the coolest thing about pregnancy is feeling the baby move. It's so unreal to think of this little person rolling around inside of me. Still - after feeling it move all day for the last 2 months, I still can't believe it. I found out that the baby's head is down (good) and it's foot is what is lodging under my ribs. Only when I sit down & get all scrunched up. Sometimes talking to it will get a little nudge out of it, sometimes if I poke it, it will poke back. It's already communicating with me in its own little way. It's so amazing. AND...baby loves the Jayhawks just like Momma. I know this because every time I watch them the baby moves a lot, which in my book is a thumbs up for the beloved crimson & blue. Baby went to its first game the other night and I'm sure it will be one of many. I've decided that if I am giving birth on February 7th, there will be a tv installed so that the KU-KSU game can be turned on so baby can come into the world on a winning note. Yay! Rock chalk, my little baby Jayhawk! :)

Despite some of my rants and ravings, I have to say, things have been pretty uneventful. I can still jog and do pilates (although like an 83-year old woman) and only a couple little moments of Braxton Hicks. Things have been great and I've been extremely lucky during this pregnancy. Here's hoping things continue to go well...and a shout-out to Baby Landon, born yesterday at 11:39 in the morning (12 minutes of pushing...lucky momma!)! I'm out...

Santa Baby

Santa has made an early appearance in Kansas. When I watch my stomach, I feel like Santa Claus with his "bowlful of jelly" belly. And it sort of feels like jelly if I think about it - jiggling around like crazy when the little one decides to practice its acrobatics. My tummy moves this way & that...even my clothes move. It ripples. Sometimes it's so powerful I feel like the baby is going to jump right out of my skin. I actually dreamed it did - well, its hand, anyway. I dreamed it was moving so much and suddenly, a hand popped out of my stomach holding a tube of red lipstick. Does this mean its a girl? Or does it mean baby just knows that I really enjoy cosmetics? I can't wait to meet this little person who has been using my uterus as a punching bag! Hard to believe after all this kicking and such that a tiny, helpless person will emerge, completely dependent on me. I found out yesterday that hubby's birthweight was a whopping 8 lbs. 15 oz. Holy lord...let's hope baby is a little more like its mother...7-8...or is it 7-6? Not exactly a Petite Patty, but nine pounds coming out of me is more than I'd like to handle right now.

So speaking of the girl thing, I have felt, from the beginning, that baby is a girl. I don't know why. Of course, my intuition is probably all wrong and I honestly have no preference to having a boy or a girl. It's just something I feel. I have talked to a lot of mothers who say they knew from the beginning what they were having and they were always right. I wonder if I am? Guess I'll find out in about 9 weeks. Which, let me get to that. I am ready. Can I just tell you, I am 100% ready? I'm ready to meet baby, ready to get my figure back (with Dolly Parton proportions), ready to be a mom, ready to have a glass of wine! I'm ready people! I'm not scared or worried, I'm just anxious for it to get here.

I know this is a short post, but it has taken me days to complete this one. I will write more after the next doctor's appointment - next Monday!

Chug-A-Lug

So, today was another checkup and I got the honor of drinking a delightfully sugary orange drink in order to test my blood glucose levels. As I opened the bottle (please drink 30 minutes prior to appointments, ladies!), I wrinkled my nose at the thought of drinking cold, carroty-looking syrup. Will it taste like cough medicine? Will it be orange soda without the fizz? No! Much to my enjoyment, it was just like the delicious orange drink we would guzzle on the last day of elementary school with our bags of popcorn and our movies like "That Darn Cat" and the one about the field goal kicking donkey. I chugged it and promptly gave myself a bellyache. Back then, too - this time with no telltale orange mustache.

I am right on track these days...and a weight gain I can deal with - 3 lbs. And remember the snarky nurse? The snot who informed me that she had not gained a single pound? Well, well, well. She has gained considerably in the last 4 weeks. I have to say, my charred, black heart was pleased. I know, it's hateful and wrong, but she made me feel dirty and slovenly the last time! She herself admitted she was having difficulties with her expanding waistline. I did feel her sorrow, but was secretly glad the bad karma had caught up with her. Of course, this probably means that Baby will be a Cyclops or that I will develop the worst stretch marks known to man.
Keep in mind (I'm talking to you, God of Pregnancy), I am not being a wench, I'm just reporting the news as I see fit.

As I have previously reported, Baby is quite a gymnast. I have also decided I might have a contestant for World's Strongest Man/Woman on my hands. A little fist (or foot or head, I suppose) has managed to find a cozy little spot just under my ribs and push as hard as it can. Meanwhile, the rest of its body is kicking in my lower belly. Perhaps it has its arms & legs spread-eagled in order to touch all corners of it's little house at once. I think I can do the same thing in my house, too. Baby is moving constantly. My belly is an indoor jungle gym. When I sit and watch it, it looks like little invisible people are bouncing on top of it...up, down, up, down. Sometimes I even catch it through my clothes! I still have a hard time wrapping my brain around the entire thing.

And another happy note...my first baby shower was Saturday. The lovely ladies from work held a little something for me and I was, shall I say, "showered" with delightful gifts and love. Not to mention an amaretto cheesecake that was to die for. I came home & hubby & I spread everything out on the floor to take another look. Tonight: the crib. Let's see if our marriage can withstand the construction. I'll keep you posted.

Ding Ding! Round Three!

As I head into the final third of this pregnancy, there are a few thoughts that come to mind. Each day over my lunch hour, I watch The Baby Story, hoping for some indication or insight as to what my future holds in 3 months as I slip my feet into the stirrups and bring Baby into the world. So, from my channel 43 observations, here's my request list for the DJ:

First of all, I don't want cheerleaders in the delivery room. I see these overzealous family members and hospital employees who go insane and continuously yell "Push push push push push! You can do it! Let's go! Give me a good one!" No, people! I know I am usually loud and obnoxious, but I think I will prefer quiet support...and I don't mean the Scientology version of birth as in, everyone has to be quiet so the baby will not be soiled by Earthlings kind of way. But a laid back, non-panicked way so that everyone (including momma) is relaxed and non-urgent. Let's hope no panicking is necessary.

Secondly, if I make any screamy, squealy, stuck pig kind of noises, I want someone to slap me. Yes, I know it's hard and painful and stressful, but when I hear these noises, I immediately become embarassed for the women making them and wonder why they would want this televised. Not that I will be on tv. At least I hope not. I'm fine with grunting and heavy breathing, but please don't let me screech like a wounded animal. I hope that an epidural will eliminate these possible embarassments.

Thirdly, I'm not sure how I feel about close relatives seeing my "lady garden". I know my doctor can look at it because I don't think she would recognize me if she weren't. I know my husband has seen it before, so I suppose that's ok, too. I worry that he will become slightly nauseated at this bulging, bursting sight that in no way resembles what he is familiar with. My sister and mom, well, that's ok, too. I very much enjoyed being a part of my sister's labor & delivery, but didn't necessarily "look" - except for an unfortunate peeking as the episiotomy was taking place, which scarred me for years. My mom can watch for obvious reasons, however I expect I will be needing her moral support "up top" if you know what I mean. Then there's my dad...whom I absolutely want with me, but am nervous about him actually seeing my below bits. Someone please tell me that I will not be embarassed when it is all over. As for the in-laws...I love ya, but please wait outside. I definitely don't need you seeing that much of me.

And finally, please don't be alarmed if I am pedicuring my feet often in those days leading up to the birth. Or, better yet, having someone else do it since I know I won't be able to see my feet, let alone reach them. I am extremely anal about my feet and to have anyone in close proximity to them without proper grooming would just be plain bad etiquitte. I also have a feeling I will be requesting some lip gloss and a dusting of powder before (or just after) the birth. I am not photogenic and have not been blessed with the skin of say, my friend Shandi, so frankly, I will need help. I know people will want to snap photos, so I kindly request waiting until I am somewhat presentable. This is the Contrary Mary talking - so please listen!

These are my wishes...so now if anyone is still interested in being present at this exciting and blessed event, I'll see you in 3 months. Or less. Maybe. Not.

Dream Weaver

Well, my first official scary dream happened last night. Ok, so the dream where I: 1. Gave birth in my grandma's kitchen; 2. It was already about 6 mos. old; 3. The baby had a cat's head when I went to feed it. A freaking cat's head! That dream was pretty scary. But last night, I was really terrified. I dreamed that my baby was gone...actually that it died in the womb and I woke up in total fear and panic. I grabbed my tum tum and begged baby to move so I knew it was there. I held it for dear life and thought, oh God, what am I going to do? I suppose I realized it was a dream, or maybe I was just exhausted, but I fell back asleep. The dream is still spooking me this morning.

Pregnancy dreams are quite interesting, I'll say. I have always been a very vivid dreamer and sometimes I have trouble deciphering what is real and what's not when I wake up. Even well into the next day I sometimes can't remember if things happened or if I dreamed them. I have also found a correlation between eating chicken for dinner and dreaming like a psych ward wacko. Crazy, eh? Well...my dreams now are no exception. In addition to my "porno dreams", which have unfortunately stopped (crap), I dream about the baby. Imagine that! The baby is always about the size of a 6-8 month old at birth. Let's see...there was the one where I didn't even remember giving birth, left the baby at the hospital, then went to get it, couldn't find the hospital, then had no car seat to take it home in. By the time we got it straightened out, the baby I took home wasn't even mine and I had a mother not speaking to me because apparently I had been hateful while pushing the little bambino out. I dreamed hubby gave birth to a bouncing baby girl! The rest of my dreams have all been about a boy. I read somewhere that subconsciously that means I want a boy more than a girl. I don't think that's true. Hubby, however, I think might be leaning on a girl a little. He heard some song about a man & his baby girl, got a little weepy and now wants to have a "Daddy's Girl". How darling!

Oh, and get this! Baby is already minding its mother. The other night I was commenting that baby never kicks on the left - just the right and down low. Upon saying this, I promptly got a swift kick to the left side that I won't soon forget. Baby also gets fired up with mama while she's cursing and hollering as the Jayhawks are blowing a lead in the fourth quarter of a football game. Let's see how Baby reacts when it sees the real thing this weekend!

Hope you all are having a delightful week and are ready for Halloween! This is one of my favorite times of the year. Just think - next October we'll be dressing up our little 8 month old monkey!

Shamu Lives in Kansas!

I got weighed yesterday. It wasn't pretty. And it wasn't the actual number, it was just the gain that has taken place in the last month. I was dumbfounded. I cried in front of my doctor. I have no shame. She handed me a box of tissues and tried to calm me. I'm sure I'm not the first woman to break down. Not to mention, the nurse (not my usual nurse), who I will lovingly refer to as b!tch-a$$ whore from now on, says this to a crying, hormonal mother-to-be, "Well, I'm in my third month and I haven't gained weight yet." No shit, you bastardly woman! I didn't either! I only gained four pounds by my fifth month! Just you wait - you will be a cow just like me, you horrid woman! I officially hate her.

I called my mom and got teary again. She did her best to soothe my wounded soul and it does help. I suppose it's true...you can't fight nature. This has been the hardest thing about the pregnancy and believe me, I know it's ridiculous and probably selfish. I think most women will agree that the body changes are really hard to adjust to. Especially when you spend hours and hours sweating, lunging, running, Pilates-ing, lifting to make your body look how you want it and then bam! I knew it would bother me, but I wasn't prepared for just how much. I cried for eff's sake! In front of my doctor, who probably thinks I'm a lunatic. Not to mention, she's in my Pilates class too, so it's not like I only see her at the office! I think I'm probably being a huge brat about this, but I don't care.

I don't know if I believe those women who say "pregancy was so beautiful, I loved my body." I don't know if I love it! I know I love my Baby times a bajillion times infinity, but this is hard. I'm starting to well up again. Maybe it's because in the words of Carly Simon, I'm so vain. Maybe I'm more weight conscious than I should be. Maybe I should be grateful right now that my feet aren't swollen (I can still wear heels!) and my ass isn't the size of a semi-tractor trailer. I know it's only in my stomach, so where is it all coming from? The rest of my body hasn't changed (yet, that is). Surely the scale was wrong! It had to be! Maybe it was the bottle of water I drank, weighing me down. Maybe I need to make my damn appointments in the morning instead of after lunch! Craps!

Anyway...now that I have been unbelievably selfish, I will tell you that baby is doing fabulously. I wasn't kidding about the gymnast in my tum-tum. Baby was moving so much the doc could hardly get the heart rate...but it's ticking away at about 160 these days. Must be all that activity. I'm 24 weeks and 3 days as of today...seems like a lot of time left, but it's going so quickly. Before you know it, February will be here with a little bundle of joy. I think I will call it my little Love Bug.

There's a Jungle Gym in My Belly

I have decided that either 1. Baby is a delightful morning person (unlike its mother and oldest sister, Dottie the Dalmatian) or 2. Baby hates my job and wants me to leave it. Seems most of the day's action takes place at my desk. A little banging & kicking at night when I'm hunkering down for my beauty rest, and it's all on the right side or the lower portion of my belly. Mostly I notice it when I'm at work. Maybe it's just because I'm plastered to my chair most of the day and I'm not moving around enough to rock the little one to sleep. The movements range from the growling stomach feeling to mostly little muscle spasm feelings. The neatest thing - last weekend hubby & I laid on the floor and watched my belly moving up & down and it was fabulous! It's still very surreal to have this tiny being inside of me.

And holy cow, my fingernails! Me, who it takes weeks of careful manicuring and gallons of Sally Hansen Hard as Nails clear polish to grow what are now sprouting virtually overnight. I actually had to cut them because they were getting so long and days later, they were back. They are truly a sight to behold. It's unreal. I will truly be sad when my eagle talons are gone. I had heard about this nail-growing phenomenon and thought it was a pregnancy urban legend, but low & behold, it's true! And yes, the gas...it's still here and in full swing. I think this actually is a source of pride for my hubby. Thank heavens for a shock (and smell and sound) absorbent chair that can withhold the force of my rear end. I think there must be a green cloud hovering above my desk area...the poor chair is covered in my funk.

During pregnancy, I don't recommend eating more than you can handle. Actually, small amounts are best. I have found on a couple of occasions where I have over-indulged (ok, it was actually last night at a birthday party and I was lured in by mashed potatoes & chicken & noodles...dammit!) that I literally cannot breathe. It's ten times worse than non-pregnancy fullness. Which goes back to one of my earlier posts - I don't know how pregnant women say they can eat so much. I can't eat near as much as I did before without feeling miserable, so I don't recommend it. And honest to God, I do not have cravings. I recently found out a cousin is pregnant (yay!) and she is craving hot dogs! Already! I actually sometimes wish I had a craving so I could decide what to eat. Nothing ever sounds fantastic, but nothing ever really sounds bad, either, so I guess I'm lucky. And speaking of sounding bad, I actually have found something that doesn't agree with Baby & belly. Seems that pizza and seafood don't agree with mama. Two things I love very, very much. I guess the pizza thing could be a blessing since it has the capacity to make me a Hefty Hideaway girl. But seafood...I miss you.

I have decided that I love the nursery now. It is delightful with the second coat of paint and fresh white trim. My lovely and wonderful parents have given us the gift of a crib. It's the most beautiful crib I have ever seen (read: tears at Babies R Us) and my adorable dad picked it out. It's gorgeous and I want to sleep in it myself. Hubby's g-ma has also kindly offered to purchase our changing table/dresser combo and I am thrilled about that as well. Thank goodness for kind and generous family members. These are things I would not feel right about registering for because they are obviously some of the more expensive items needed. I have heard stories of fabulous garage sale finds, which I am certainly not opposed to, but I also love that our crib is ours and will hold only our memories. My next challenge: bedding. Don't even get me started.

Today we will go to the doctor again...I can't believe another appointment is here and that I'm 24 weeks pregnant. Baby is weighing in at about a pound now, so think of all the growing that will take place over the next 16 weeks! I'm excited to see family that I haven't seen since I found out I was pregnant and hopefully have some much-needed down time. Hubby is playing in an alumni baseball game, too, so I will be nursing him back to health come Sunday. Everyone take care and have a great weekend!

What's that in your pants?

So, today I channel the late, great Johnny Cash...black is slimming, right? Not so much when your maternity pants are still too large and create that "freshly taken crap" look in the ass of my trousers. Pulling them up can create an uncomfortable camel toe. What's a girl to do? I have always thought of my hind end as plump enough to fill out the seat of any pants - but apparently, maternity pants have a mind of their own. Sag, sag, sag.

But on a brighter note - baby is kicking all of the time! It feels like little muscle spasms in my belly. Baby is fond of the right side or the lower abdomen...it's happening more during the day, but when I'm active, baby is usually rocked to sleep, so I notice more at night.

Yesterday, I purchased a lovely shade of mint-green for the walls of the nursery. I thought, won't this be darling! I nice neutral green that I can add more color to after the baby is born. Well, "Mint Mist" - eff you! You look more like a fluorescent lime exploded on my wall and now I have to go back to Lowe's, get another gallon and do it all over again. Bah Humbug! But first I can guarantee I'll paint the second coat - just to make sure. I stink!

I have the concentration of a 2 year old at work these days. I get a little work done, browse the baby clothes. Do a little more work, browse the maternity clothing. A little more work, check out the nursery furniture. This is my day. My brain is totally preoccupied with house, baby, nursery and everything going on except for my actual paying job. I have successfully written down a variety of items I'd like to register for from Babies R Us and Target. The list sits right next to my computer - just next to the color print-out of the crib and changing table/dresser I'm interested in. What's a girl to do? I've got bigger things on the brain besides babysitting my clients. And my belly. Which, by the way is growing. I'm supposed to put my weight and waist measurements in my baby book every few days. Do you think I'm actually going to? Hell to the no! I wouldn't tell anyone my waist size before I was pregnant - let alone now that it's 38 times bigger. I'm proud of my baby...but I haven't decided about the body going along with it.

Well, since it's taken me nearly four days to get this posted, I suppose I should stop. I'll alert you when more fascinating details arise...xoxo.

For Good Luck, Rub My Belly

So, I went to the doctor last week. Did I tell you that? I think I did. Baby's heart is still pumping away at about 150 and growing nicely. I have gained 4 lbs. It looks more like 40 and it might as well be 400. And after this weekend, it probably is 400. I am having a MAJOR clothing dilemma. I purchased some maternity goods for my growing body and I might as well be wearing a tent. My regular clothing is starting to look pretty ridiculous, so either way, I look like I'm wearing someone's hand-me-downs. I was thrilled at the idea of being a maternity fashion maven and now I just feel like a kid playing dress-up. It's painful to watch and even more painful being the one involved. It's a bitter cocktail that I'm having a hard time swallowing. I know that as soon as my belly "pops", so to speak, everything will fit fine, it's just the in-between that is horrendous. In-between is lasting longer than I thought, but I guess I should be thankful. I'm wondering if there is any actual "popping" involved though. It just seems to be growing at a steady rate.

I hear about these women who have ungodly appetites and I wonder what that's all about. 70 pound weight gains! Not saying I won't gain my fair share, but seriously, I will be starving and think I could eat an entire buffet at Western Sizzlin and then 5 bites into it, I'm full. I will admit, I am hungry a lot more often, but it takes a lot less to feed baby & I. Maybe the huge appetite is to come later. Also, the peeing. There are times when I can barely make it into the house because my bladder is bursting. I sit down and...tinkle. I suppose this is a result of the baby kicking my bladder like a soccer ball - and the fact that my bladder is quickly losing living space in my belly. And I obviously need to quit drinking after a certain point in the evening because having my slumber interrupted for urination is not my idea of a good time. Even better when hubby has just gone in his sleepy state and I wind up having to wipe my legs & ass as well from sitting on a wet seat. I'm thinking, the toilet opening is large, a stream of pee is not. I don't see the problem. Of course, it could also be that one of our dogs has taken a liking to the toilet and uses it as her personal water cooler. It's either that or plunging into the icy water because the seat is still up. Hence the reason I prefer the seat down.

Other than that, everything is progressing nicely. We did the triple screen, which was a bit scary. It tests for things like Spina Bifida, Down's Syndrome, or other neural defects and it has a very high false positive possibility - increasing the stress on mom & dad, too. It also means additional testing to determine actual results. I didn't realize how worried I was until I got an a-ok reading and then burst into tears. Then I sat in the chair & talked to my baby and praised it to high heaven. My baby is #1!

Let's all send our good vibes to Miss Shandi...she is having a little baby boy today - no doubt it will be gorgeous if it looks anything like its mother. Or its father for that matter. Let's keep them in our thoughts. Love you all!

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Seems Mama G. has been absent from the blogging world and now it's time to play catch-up. Apparently, my burgeoning belly has decided yet again to grow overnight. Yesterday, just YESTERDAY, I had a couple of women tell me they couldn't believe I was five months pregnant. My belly was actually used in the same sentence with the word "tiny". What the hell? Whose belly was she looking at? It certainly wasn't mine. My belly hasn't been tiny since the second grade. It certainly wasn't the half-basketball thing it is today. I am proud. I saw myself in the window and thought, hey! That looks pretty damn good! I even tried sucking in and 1. It hurt and 2. It can no longer be done. The belly is there to stay for the next few months.

My little gymnast has also been quite the busy bee...Just last week, baby was somersaulting through my belly. No joke - the sonogram showed my little monkey barreling through my tum tum like a bull in a china closet. My little ten inch treasure (yes, it's doubled in a month!) was using my bladder as a trampoline. No wonder I have to pee at the sight of a liquid! I have to say, I did peek at my little one's goodies and frankly, despite my skills as an ultrasound technician, I saw nothing. Weird, I know. I'm glad I didn't see anything - and glad the tech was kind enough to say, "I'm not even going to focus on your baby's bits - if you don't want to know, I don't want to know". Lovely lady that Beth.

And I have officially reached slow down mode. Apparently the elliptical machine (which I thought was so simple) causes cramps and jogging feels like a bowling ball rolling around in my gut. So, walking & pilates it is. And I'm now moved up to official pregnancy status in pilates as I will be using the wedge - which by the way is covered in a delightful "cloud" fabric. I can no longer sleep or rest on my back. Of course, "sexual intercourse is permitted in the missionary style, if comfortable, however should last no longer than 20 to 30 minutes". First of all, 20 to 30 minutes is plain absurd and secondly, the so-called "horny stage" has yet to kick in, so I think we're doing ok in that department. However, we can talk about sleeping. I love to sleep and frankly, hate to be interrupted during my slumber. Apparently, laying on the left side is better for circulation which is unfortunate because frankly it hurts the hips. I wake up and walk to the bathroom like a 400-year-old woman. I have taken to surrounding myself with pillows during the night. Thank you Target for the 2 new "firm" queen size pillows to place around my hiney and belly. Soon I will have to move to the guest room so I can spread out my plethora of pillows. I have yet to figure out a comfortable arrangement, so I will keep looking for the perfect sleep solution. I think I need one of those remote control beds that allows you to sit up - then I can beat heartburn AND sore hips in one shot! Woohooo! Have I reached middle age?

Besides those minor setbacks, I feel like I am finally starting to realize my potential for looking and feeling pregnant. Add that to the fact that I can now feel baby moving on a reagular basis is starting to make reality set in in a big way. Being pregnant is awesome and sadly, I am already halfway done!

I Love the Way You Move...

So, last night hubby & I were enjoying a Big Cheese Pizza glutton bowl when all of a sudden I felt a funny sensation in my belly. Hmmm...a little fluttering, gurgling. For a moment, I thought my stomach was growling, so I put the tv on mute and sat very still...Flutter, flutter...2 or 3 minutes of this feeling when I realized what had happened. The little peanut was moving! Either baby really loves/hates pizza or it was trying to say, "Hi, mom & dad! I'm in here!". Of course I promptly burst into tears and called my parents with the exciting news. Hubby sat on the couch and laughed and I think even got a little teary. This is what I love...all of these "firsts". I love that it was hubby & I at home with the dogs, experiencing this together as a family, then sharing the news with everyone. I would bet I woke up 482 times last night, laying very still, just to see if I could feel it again. I sit at my desk today (so obviously busy if I have time for blogging) and occasionally, I go into statue mode to check the movement. I know it will probably be days before it happens again, but I'm still hopeful that baby will "talk" to me again soon.

So, I had an errand to run at Target last night and caved in on the maternity t-shirts. It was imperative that I had the proper shirt to match my leopard print shoes today and none of the ill-fitting clothes in my closet cut the mustard. I found a darling white tee with delightful capped sleeves! Success! It fits quite perfectly over my rubber-banded jeans (it's Friday!) and has the perfect amount of fabric for my growing belly. I love that it's fitted and my belly is starting to peek out over my jeans. Today I feel like showing it off. Screw those a-holes who think, wow, that Mary, she's sure packed it on! I'm pregnant & proud today. My spunky supervisor even took notice of my "gargantuan breasts" - her words, not mine.

This weekend I will be celebrating the big 2-9. An age I plan on staying for some time. I'll be doing a little shopping and I hope to find some little gems to fit my ever-changing body. Hope you all have a delightful holiday!

Dancing Queen

Over the weekend, we went to a wedding of an old college buddy of hubby's, and much to my surprise, I can still dance! Not only can I dance while pregnant, apparently, it is possible to dance while being the only sober person in the room as well! Ok, so maybe to some I am not a dancer, but in my eyes, I have always been able to bust out the stripper moves as well as anyone. And believe me, I did. Let's just say Mama was tiiiiiiired on Sunday. We'll see how well I do when the belly is about 58 inches larger and it's no longer a belly, but a weapon. Taking innocent bystanders out at every turn. I will demolish grocery store displays in a single step and send tabletop glasses shattering to the floor.

Speaking of bellies, it's amazing how my belly has grown in just 2 weeks since my doctor's appointment. It's like I still can't believe there is a baby inside of me! I can only get a few pairs of pants buttoned. I'm trying to be a good sport, but sometimes it's still really hard to wrap my brain around the changes that are about to happen. Baby is about to have a major growth spurt and I will be a full-on beach ball in no time. I am so excited to head back to the doc and see what progress little Baby G. has made...I can't wait to see him/her again on that fabulous little sonogram machine. I hope the little one starts moving soon - I am ready to feel it be-bopping around inside of me...perhaps dancing around like its mother last Saturday evening?

In case you were wondering, I did it. I went to the bra department of the local Dillards and purchased some harnesses for my overactive mammaries. I will tell you this, they feel fabulous. Comfy, roomy - no third boobs popping out the top, no extra fat pockets bursting from under my arms...just a nice sensible brassiere. I'm sure the hubby is thrilled. I'm sure he will be equally excited when post-birth, I have the most heinous nursing bras on earth with the giant round patches so that I don't soak myself (or anyone within a 10 foot radius) at the slightest hint of a baby cry. Although, judging by the size of my hooters now, I'm guessing I will be filling up gallon jugs at Dillons in no time. I will also have you know that I broke down and purchased some maternity clothing. I actually got really excited ... Old Navy was having a big fat (no pun intended) sale and I thought, what the hell! It felt good...it felt motherly. Each day that it gets closer, I feel a little more ready to face motherhood. I know that I'm probably in for a rude awakening, but how awesome will this be?! I can't wait.

Food for Thought

I have always been very proud (ok, maybe proud isn't the way to describe it) and pleased that although my boobies are hooterific and large, I have been lucky enough to sport areola on a smaller scale. Large nipples scare me. I hate it when I see women (and men) with giant pepperonis on their chest. Well, I have moved on from pepperonis. Even sliced genoa salami. I've reached dinner plate proportions. I know, I know...it's so my child will be able to find the food source and fill its little belly. But still! Come on, people! How many times have you ever seen a woman take off her shirt (don't lie, we've all witnessed it) and cringed at her gargantuan nipples?

And can I also just say that if one more person tells me I need to stop wearing heels, I will start throwing punches! I love my heels and wear them religiously. What, now that I'm pregnant, I have to wear only flat shoes? Yes, that would be great - let's make me look as squat as possible! Even better, I will waddle around in house shoes. Wouldn't that be attractive?! Please, people! My feet are fine! I can still walk! I will wear my heels until my feet look like sausages in them or I can no longer balance.

I'm not sure if any of you have been watching Sex & the City lately. Wait a minute - of course you have. I will watch the same two episodes on Tuesday and Wednesday on TBS, then watch two more shows on another channel at 10:30. Sometimes even catching another 10:00 showing on a different channel. What can I say, I miss my NYC pals. Anyway, Miranda is pregnant now in some of them and she rattled on last night about her gas. Oh, Miranda, I can relate. And it's just started in the last few weeks. I sit at my desk and marinate in them all day. And sometimes, I just go ahead and push them out, not caring who hears them. They have a mind of their own. And they aren't stinky (mine never are - ha!), they are just thunderous. I put my hubby to shame.

And while I'm being candid, let's discuss the fact that I have a delightful sex dream almost every night. It's so random & enjoyable. My dreams have always been very vivid and now even more so. It's crazy what I dream about, but obviously, the sex ones are the best! I have dreamed about having it, watching it, sometimes it's me, sometimes it's not, but it's like a dirty little porno inside my disgusting little mind.

Last night I had a near breakdown. God bless my husband. He tells me I'm gorgeous and rubs my belly and talks to the baby like a good papa bear should. However, at the same time, I have no patience with him. He's not understanding of the changes in my body and mind just yet and it's frustrating. How could he possibly relate? All he can think about is our baby and how excited he is! I take out a lot of my frustrations on him and I know I shouldn't, but he's there. He's my husband and he's the one who's there to hear it. I am such a raging bitch - I think Jenny McCarthy summed it up in "Belly Laughs" when she referred to it as psycho bitch. It can really come from nowhere. Totally unexpected and unstoppable! He truly is wonderful and I have absolutely taken him for granted, but then again, he's supposed to read my mind, right? Isn't he supposed to submit to my every word & whim because I'm pregnant? That's what I'm told...when Mama's happy, everyone's happy.

Belly Buster

I went on a little shopping expedition last night...to find the perfect empire-waisted gown to wear to an upcoming wedding. I'm not asking for much...just something that will cradle my ample cleavage and leave me some room for my growing belly. Apparently, empire dresses are no longer in style? I seem to recall seeing them on the red carpet on many a pregnant celebrity. Oh, wait, wait, wait...I live in Salina. Land of The Buckle, Maurices, and Rue 21, where there are no options, only style-free choices that will no doubt make me look like a very well-developed high schooler, not a mother-to-be who is just 12 days shy of turning 29. And forget about maternity dresses. First of all, I know that at this point, I'd be swimming in them. Secondly, I've seen what that bitch Liz Lange offers at Target and she's crazy if she thinks I'm plunking down my hard earned cash for that crap. I keep seeing all these cute designs she has, so where in the heck are they? Apparently not at the local Target. So, it's either order online (which I really hate to do since at this point my size is out the window), or dig through the archives and wear something from the 1984 Dorothy Zbornak caftan collection. Maybe some slouch boots to go with it?

Let's not mention the fact that I also looked at bras last night. I know I need to do it. My poor girls are crying out for something better. They deserve better! I couldn't do it just yet - I'm slightly ashamed to be entering the realm of DD when just a few short weeks ago, I was on the small end of a D, loving that maybe one day I'd venture into the beloved C size again. I felt so sorry for myself I went home and gave myself a pedicure - one of my favorite things to do. And I cherished every moment, as I know it's a luxury that I will no longer to be able to offer myself in a few months. Someone else will have to do it and it seems I am never truly happy unless I do it myself. You know, when my belly is so big that I will have to resort to slip-on shoes only because I will be unable to actually tie shoes. On top of that, I think, how will I shave my legs? Heaven forbid, my bikini line? For the love of god, I hope that I can find some way to avoid looking like an untrimmed hedge. A bushwoman, if you will.

My body is definitely changing...it's not obvious yet to everyone that there is a little being growing inside of me, but I can definitely tell. And not just by how I look or my clothes...it's so weird how your stomach takes on this hard, roundness - one that you can actually appreciate because it's so extraordinary. I would always wonder why pregnant women touched their bellies a lot, and now I know because I do it all the time. I find myself laying with a hand over my stomach. Just sitting at my desk and feeling it because I can't believe what's in there! I look at it constantly! I swear, everytime I go to the bathroom, I pull up my shirt just to check it! I definitely have my moments where I'd like to know what the little peanut is, but overall, it's exciting to know that I'm going to have a little surprise when it's born. I have really had a wonderful experience so far, so I wish that for all of you if decide to have little ones. Now if I could just find a damn dress!

You have what holding your pants up?

Yay! It's jeans day at work! Oh wait - son of a bitch, none of my jeans fit. Well, that's not true, they do fit my legs and hiney. And if you like flanks & a muffin top, they certainly fit my belly. I should have known when last night I was trying to find pants to go out to dinner and nothing was working - therefore I wound up wearing some stretchy yoga pants type things (cute, but not exactly what I had planned). And it wasn't a "yay, I'm pregnant!" tight feeling in the pants. It was a "God damn it! I am the fattest woman on the planet and nothing looks good and I want to cry right now!" Like those nights where you're going out and then wind up not going because you're too fat, but you do manage to end up with every piece of clothing from your closet strewn across your bed.

So, back to today. I have fastened my beloved jeans with a safety pin. Yes, a safety pin. It's given me an extra inch or two and my shirt totally covers it. My doctor actually recommended using a rubber band (a trick mothers know, I presume) and that would buy me some time until I really need maternity clothes. Buying a size larger does not seem logical - the pants will fit my belly and the rest of the outfit will wind up being ridiculous looking. Therefore, it's safety pins and rubber bands until the elastic paneling has its turn in my closet.

Speaking of overflowing clothing. Let's discuss my bras. I love my Vicky and all she has to offer in terms of fabulous bras, undies and the like. Vicky and I are friends. I am loyal to her and refuse to purchase bras from anyone else. But now I may have to cheat on her. I'm sorry, Vicky, but my boobies are getting too large for my bra and instead of cute, I may need to actually go for comfort & support - which believe me, you offer in many forms such as the Ipex, Body by Victoria, and the lovely Angels collection. But I don't think you have my size anymore. My cups are starting to runneth over. These mammaries, in all their pregnancy glory, might possibly have to start being harnessed in something a little more sensible. Therefore, I will never let my husband see me in a bra again. I am going to do my damnest to avoid the transition to granny panties. But ladies, I'm telling you right now, comfort is of the paramount. You will see - you will want to be the cute, stylish one who still wears cute undies & bras, but it will happen. You will make the switch. I'd love to be the pregnant lady with the cute low rider pants that your adorable (and non-stretch marked, of course) belly will peek out of. But I am told that once I venture to the other side - the one with the soft, supple elastic cradling my belly, I will not be back until the journey is over.

Other than that, I am still on a high from seeing my baby's little wave from my belly...saying hello and he/she will see me in a few months. I look at the pictures a hundred times a day and I am more amazed each time. Kind of makes the whole tight pants thing a little less important.

Cry me a river...

Remember that time yesterday when I said I wasn't going to get mushy? Well, that was an all-out lie. Just for today, I promise. We had the first sonogram today and it was absolutely the most unbelievable experience ever. Let me backtrack a little...

So yesterday was doctor appointment #2. How did I possibly lose 2 pounds from the first appointment? I can't lose weight to save my ass, but then I get pregnant and it happens? Needless to say, I didn't mind. We heard the heartbeat again and it's ticking away at 150 and everything is great. We shedule a sonogram for this morning and that's when the tears start to fall...

First of all, my parents, mother-in-law, sister, and husband are all included in the big day. I started crying before we even got into the room. This from a girl who yesterday said, I don't know if I'll cry - I'm too excited! Cut to this morning and I'm bawling like a baby. Not to mention my bladder is going to explode because they make you drink 32 oz. of water before the appointment. I'm going to tell you right now that seeing an actual real-life picture of your baby for the first time is so incredible. It's so utterly unbelievable. It blows the hearing the heartbeat out of the water. Our little peanut was dancing around and totally hamming it up for the camera. We saw what looked like a "thumbs up", a wave hello...even toes. My baby's little piggies! (I'm talking like a mom already, shit!) At one point the baby had its hands up on it's cheeks (think "Home Alone" pose). I swear to god, I could have laid on that table and watched our little home movie all day long. What's even more amazing is that while the baby is going bonkers in my belly, I can't feel a thing! I probably won't for a few more weeks, and I can't wait. I'm told it will feel like flutters or gas (gas? if that's the case, I've had a baby in my belly for about 28 years) and I won't realize it until it's happened a few times.

Right now, Baby Gordon is about 5 inches long and weighs about 5 oz. Everything seems to be in the right place and the right size. We saw the heart beating, the kidneys, stomach, bladder, brain, spine, wow! I wish I could show all of the pics to you - but to you they'd probably look like Tom & Katie's alien baby (minus the red eyes). My sister thinks she can tell what it is, but all I have to say is she better keep her trap shut! We will definitely be able to tell on the next one, so I hope it's little legs are crossed.

I'm so glad I can share all of this with you. I hope you bitches are reading it! For those of you who have been through it, I am proud to join the club...for those of you who haven't (but certainly will) I can't wait to hear your stories!

Fertile Myrtle

Well, I know those of you who don't get to chat with me on a regular basis have been dying to hear some of my sarcastic wit and wisdom. I know you all miss me terribly and are wondering what I have been up to. I apologize in advance, this first entry is going to be a novel - I have some catching up to do. In addition to droning away at my marketing job each day and tending to my beloved Dottie & Millie babes, trying to sell our house and find another one to live in, I have managed to get myself knocked up. Hubby & I decided to go for it and sure enough, he slipped one past the goalie in no time at all! I am officially 15 weeks preg-a-rooty-tooty and due around February 5, 2007. It's pretty scary, but it is so exciting and surreal to know that a little baby Gordo is growing inside my body. We heard the heartbeat on July 11, and I will tell you that the first time you hear it, it is music to your ears. Until this time, I was sure the doctor would tell me it was all a mistake (despite the four home pregancy tests and blood test)!

Although I don't think most people can tell that I am pregs, in my mind I have reached the "is she getting fat or is she pregnant?" stage. My pants were a little tighter than I needed them to be today. My little jacket is a little more snug in the middle than I'd like, and it's not fun. Keep in mind you are speaking with a woman who is terrified of someone thinking she is fat. A woman who slaves in the gym (usually to no avail). It's quite frightening. I am keeping my fingers crossed that one day when my belly officially "pops out" that I will no longer be bothered since it will be obvious that I am with child. I will tell you that my belly is probably harder than it will ever be in my life, which is a joy! I may be so candid as to tell you that I am purchasing stock in the Palmer's Stretch Mark Cocoa Butter Cream company, for I slather myself with it twice a day. I can only hope that the gods that were so kind to my mother and sister will bless me with no stretch marks as well. I know the body will do what it will, but it will comfort me greatly to know that I did my best to prevent it. A definite plus of the pregancy is that my boobies are so perky it's unreal and I want to show 'em off! For those of you who know me well (and those of you who aren't legally blind), we're all aware that nature has made me well-endowed in the chest area. They are bigger (not a lot, but enough), and they are unreal and this is something I could get used to - on a smaller scale, of course. I'll save you the anguish of hearing what else is going on with my boobs right now. And I will not be proud of them in about 5.5 months when the old milk comes in because right now I envision myself with wet spots, toppling forward at the sheer magnitude of them.

So far, I do not have any cravings, but I am told that it will happen in later months. I hope I am not the mom-to-be that craves double Quarter Pounders with Super Sized fries...and if I do, I hope I can fight the urge and not become a violent, psycho pregnant woman who holds a gun to her husband's head at 3 in the morning until he runs to the local McDonalds to purchase the extra value meal #3. Maybe I will crave something delightfully healthy, like carrot sticks and celery stalks. RIIIIGHT...you're talking to a girl who could eat cheese by the block and drink ranch (only the good kind - Tanner's girls know what I'm referring to) out of a jug.

I will tell you, despite my ranting, pregancy really is delightful...I get all sorts of special treatment, I've been told I'm radiant! Glowing! I get to buy new clothes (maternity wear has come a long way, folks!), I get to nap a lot more! I do miss the occasional cocktail (ok, binge is more like it), but this is so much better. I get a little punkin...I can't wait to see what it looks like and who it becomes. I can't wait to experience the rest of this pregnancy - feeling the baby move is something that I am really looking forward to. Today we go back to the doctor and I'm hoping to see a picture of the little peanut. We aren't finding out what it is...I really want to be surprised when I finally meet the baby. In the meantime, I'll keep you posted...love you all!