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.