Great Appointment!

In spite of the fact that I had to let one of the men OBs at the practice stick his hand in my privates, and have the GBS test done, I couldn't be happier right now. :) I am now 2 cm dilated and 60% effaced. Peep is in -3 station. Progress!! I also asked Dr. Cutie (because he is, which makes today's appointment even more embarassing, but that's how it goes) how far they would let me go over my due date considering Dr. W thinks Peep will be a big baby. We never got to the answer, but after he did his checking (fundal height measurement, which is now 1.5 weeks ahead, feeling Peep, and all that), he said that he didn't think Peep would be excessively large. He did say that, if I was willing, they could do an ultrasound next week to get a better estimate. (If I'm willing??? LOL! Of course I was agreeable to that!) He did warn me that ultrasounds in the 3rd trimester can be up to 1 lb off in estimates of weight, but I was already aware of that. He did say that their machine is set up to err on the side of overestimating rather than underestimating, so I can probably bet on Peep being about a half pound less than whatever they come up with.

So to recap, I'm 1 cm more dilated, I'm 60% effaced (last time I wasn't effaced at all), Peep is engaging, and I get to see Peep next Thursday! :D My next appointment is also with Dr. Cutie, so I guess I'll have his hand in my privates again... But I might as well get used to it. If he's the one who delivers Peep, he'll be doing a lot more than that!

We Have A Name!

Well, two actually! We agreed upon a girl's name last week and FINALLY yesterday, we selected a boy's name as well. This is momentous! It only took 9 months to get to this point, after all.

Oh yeah, and in spite of all the hype, you'll just have to wait until Peep is born to find out what the contenders are. ;) It won't be much longer!

3 weeks 2 days to go. I can't believe it! I just realized last night that if I want to get a pregnancy portrait done, I better do it soon because it may be too late if I wait much longer. So many of my sistas had their babies 2 weeks early, so I'm trying to be prepared for Peep to make his/her grand entrance at any time now. Trying. I'm not done packing the L&D and hospital bags, but they're mostly done. I suppose I can live without a robe if I must. And I haven't found the music I want to bring to the hospital yet, but that's not a huge deal. I put Peep's diaper bag in the truck over the weekend so there would be one less thing to remember to bring with us when the time comes. And I keep trying to get Brian to pack a bag so he'll be ready, but he is Mr. Procrastinator. I have an appointment this afternoon so I should have a better idea of how soon I need to get all of this completed (although I've been warned before that how dilated and effaced you are isn't really an indicator of how far off labor will be since it can change rapidly).

23 more days until I find out if Peep is an ADV or MIV. :D (And that's the only hint you'll get!!)

Yowsers!

How big is this baby going to get? I swear my belly gets larger every day lately!!


This was after my cousin's baby shower this afternoon. My cousins said it looks like my belly has grown since my shower last Sunday. I agree! I can't imagine going late (or growing much more!!). I have a feeling my OBs will be watching the growth of Peep very closely.

Family Feud

What is it about the death of a loved one that turns people crazy? Before GG passed away, there were some issues that I turned a blind eye to because honestly, it didn't affect me directly so there was no point losing sleep over it. I can't take care of everyone, after all. But what it basically came down to was a feud between GG's other 2 children (which I didn't even know existed until the feud began!) and my grandfather.

For years, GG was a part of our family. She went to all of our birthdays and holidays. She came to our picnics. Grandpa took care of her and her home ever since her husband passed away in the 1970s. I don't know exactly when it occurred, but eventually (as most elderly are advised to do), she quit claimed the house to my grandfather, retaining life use of it. So technically, he was the owner of the house but she had the right to live there for the rest of her natural life, or until she chose to live elsewhere. About a year and a half ago, they had finally convinced GG that she should probably be living closer to family and not in a 2-story centuries old house by herself anymore. She moved into an apartment in the same city where all of our family lived and the house was sold. This is when the feud began.

I had heard of Janet for years. It was always that "no-good" Janet who was asking for money again. I always wondered why Janet couldn't support herself, especially since GG was so against giving everything to her. Janet is her daughter (which I guess I knew without ever being told, but I have never met the woman) and Janet was quite upset when the house was sold and the profits were not split between the children. But Janet also had nothing to do with GG for all those years and, since GG had given the house to Grandpa, he had no reason to divide it. He DID give Janet a large sum of money after the sale, mainly because she was making a huge fuss, but he didn't have any legal obligation to do so. Apparently, it wasn't enough. That's all anyone heard about for the longest time afterwards. And once GG moved into the apartment, Janet suddenly became a part of her life again... whispering poison into her ears and slowly turning GG against our family.

Suddenly, it was that "no-good" family of Bob. We never did anything for her. We were never there for her. Grandpa robbed her blind and he was now on her bad side. She stopped coming to family gatherings for the first time in my 27 years on this Earth. And the words she was sharing with Janet were slowly making their way back to my family, hurting them and igniting anger in many of them. (I chose to stay out of this because I felt that if that was how she really felt, then there was no point in getting upset over it.)

Around Christmas, GG fell ill with pneumonia and ended up in a nursing home. I couldn't visit her because a) I have asthma, and b) I was 14 weeks pregnant at the time. But much of my family did visit her. Things started to change. We weren't the black sheep anymore. It started to look good. She spent her 92nd birthday in the nursing home, but the family brought a party to her (again, I couldn't go, but I sent a card). She was eventually released back to her apartment, where Janet wasted no time. By the time she was admitted again for her next illness, we were on her list again.

In spite of all of this, my mom and her sisters did try. My Grandfather was sincerely hurt by what was said and done, but he still loved his mother and did what he could for her. When we learned recently that she was diagnosed with lung cancer and was to start radiation, the family tried again. Grandpa and Grandma visited her last week when she was in good spirits and feeling pretty good. My parents and siblings planned on visiting her today. But it was too late. She passed away Wednesday night, quickly and (from what we were told) without suffering.

I hoped this would bring an end to the feud, but it seems to have only made it worse. Janet was in charge of the funeral arrangements so she was in control of everything now. When I called my Grandpa to find out about the arrangements, he was quite angry about how things were handled. I tried to comfort him, but there really was no way to do it so I sent him and Grandma flowers. My sister called me last night practically in tears because Janet will not allow our part of the family (Grandpa and his line) to be a part of the family procession at the burial. She also said she heard that Janet had left Grandpa out of the obituaries as a survivor of GG. And the kicker...one of our mother's uncles was now suing Grandpa over not dividing the money evenly from the sale of GG property a year and a half ago. I did my best to try to calm my sister down, explaining to her that there's no point in getting upset over something that we have no control. That people would understand that our family loved GG and we were there for her, whether or not we're in the procession. And that if they did't, it doesn't really matter what people we don't even know think anyway. We made plans to go out this afternoon to try to take her mind off of it.

This morning, I couldn't help but peek at the obits. Sure enough, Grandpa was left out, as if he never existed. So I did the only thing I could think of: I emailed the newspapers alerting them to the error and asking them to correct it in the newspapers tomorrow. I don't know if any change will come about from it, but at least I tried to do what I could. Hopefully it will help ease some of the pain that came about from the pettiness of these people.

It's really quite sad that this is how they are honoring my GG's life. In the end, though, they will get their just desserts. My beliefs don't fit into a conventional sort of organized religion, but I do believe in a sort of karma. Negativity breeds negativity, just as positive thinking breeds the positive. It's probably the only way I've been able to get through things like this without turning into the emotional wreck that my sister has become.

Great-Grandma, I am so sorry this is how you will be remembered. May you rest in peace...

A Moment Of Silence

...

Margaret Susan Dubiell Nevin... January 10, 1913-May 25, 2005... You are in my thoughts...
...

My sister just called to let me know that our great-grandmother passed away this evening. She had been ill on and off since Christmas (I believe it started with pneumonia). Of course, I haven't been able to see her during any of this because she's been in a nursing home. Even if I wasn't pregnant, since I have asthma, I'm supposed to avoid ill people if at all possible. I haven't seen her since last summer, before the big family feud happened (long story). Recently, we learned that she had lung cancer. They had just started her radiation treatments last week, although they were predicting that she only had 1-2 months left to live. My grandma (her daughter-in-law) saw her last week and said she didn't look sick. My parents and my sister were planning on visiting her this Friday and I was going to send along a card with them. Now I'll be paying my respects instead. I seriously thought she would prove them wrong and live another 2-3 years. She's the one who told me her secret to her long life was a shot of whiskey every day. She lived on her own up until her illness this winter, even living in her own house up until a year ago when she moved into a 2nd floor apartment. She visited nursing homes and sang to the elderly patients. She even drove (only during the day, of course) up until her illness this past winter. She was a firecracker and we seriously thought she would beat this, no problem. It's quite a shock to hear that she passed away today... it's surreal. I don't claim to be close to her. As I said, I haven't seen much of her lately (although I used to see her on an almost weekly basis every summer, plus once a month for birthdays and holidays with that side of the family). And even though she could be cantankerous at times, she will be missed...

May your soul move on to eternal peace.

Must Be The Full Moon

Most women feel the mild Braxton Hicks contractions at some point in their pregnancies. Up until today, I couldn't recall a single one. I did have a contraction about a week and a half ago, but it was an all-belly one and it was QUITE painful. However, today was full of surprises.

This morning I had terrible back pain; I was barely able to walk around at work, and it got worse every time my bladder filled (which doesn't take very long these days). I just figured it was sciatica coming back, but one of my co-workers was kind enough to tell me how, when she went into labor with one of her sons (who was born sunny-side-up), she didn't feel any contractions just constant back pain. Another co-worker insisted that I would know if I was in labor, though, so I didn't think about it again. By the time I left work, the back pain had moderated.

This evening as I was sitting on the couch writing out the thank yous for my shower on Sunday, I started having contractions. Having just read the signs of labor on my OB's website, I knew what I was feeling wasn't "true" labor. These were contractions across the top of my uterus and, while they got to be somewhat painful and certainly noticeable, they were totally irregular. They lasted for about 45 seconds or so each and spanned as little as every 3 minutes to as much as more than every 10 minutes. This went on from about 7:30PM to 8:30PM (with a few thrown in after that, but spaced much further apart).

No, I don't think I'm in labor. But I do think my body is trying to practice for it and must be making the preparations. It's just funny how this all started around the full moon. In any case, it's certainly convinced me of one thing-I better finish packing my L&D bag! The hospital stay bag was just about done, but I haven't even started the L&D bag, nor have I packed anything for Peep, yet. It could still be another 6 weeks until the time comes, for all I know, but it would be so much easier to be prepared than to end up throwing things randomly in bags between contractions.

Belly Shot!

This was yesterday after my 2nd baby shower (I will try to post about it later.... I'm still exhausted!):


ETA: For comparison's sake (because I haven't had a chance to make another animated gif yet), here's the last belly shot that was taken. And I do agree with Kat... it seems the belly has *really* popped out recently!

I Did It! And Message From Beyond?

I went by a Babies R Us without stepping foot in the store!! :D Brian insists that's an impossible task for me, but I proved him wrong yesterday when we were out running errands in that area. You see, I had to get a new alarm clock. Brian thinks it was going bonkers the other night, but I wonder if there was something more to it. We were lying in bed reading before going to sleep, and all of the sudden, the radio came on on my alarm clock. The alarm was not on and it was just shy of 11:00PM. It scared the heck out of me! Normally, I would have been up all night freaked out by the event, but I was soooooo tired that I fell asleep against my will. And when I woke up at around 2:00AM for my usual pee break, it did it again as I was getting back into bed. I must have jumped 10 feet, and I quickly pulled my feet up onto the bed (you know, the old monsters under the bed thing ;) ). Twice in one night... I wondered if someone was trying to reach out to me. Brian, of course, said that the clock was obviously broken and I needed a new one. A simple explanation, and one that most people would be satisfied with. However, I still wonder. I do have to say that, with the new alarm clock plugged in, there were no incidents last night. But that doesn't mean Brian's right.

I Love A Man In Uniform

The car seat installation/inspection went pretty well, in spite of my being a nervous wreck. There's something about policemen that makes me really uneasy around them, making me feel guilty when I didn't even do anything wrong. I guess that's why I put off this inspection for so long. Fortunately, it was pretty painless. I parked where I was told to and went into the lobby to let him know I was there. There was a *really* cute (and young!!) police officer who told me it would be just a few minutes. Once Officer Inspector (names changed to protect the innocent) came out into the lobby, I had to fill out a short form. He tried to put me at ease, telling me how his sister is also due June 23rd and his children were born around the same day. (Did I mention Officer Inspector was also kind of cute? Maybe it's just the uniform...) Anyway, we went outside and he checked my installation. He said it was pretty good and seemed impressed when he asked who installed it and learned that I had, but it still needed to be tightened up just a bit. So he checked his list to make sure the carseat wasn't recalled. And then in less than a minute, Officer Inspector had that carseat removed and reinstalled perfectly. I was impressed! He had me feel the difference - the seat wouldn't budge! He did say that out of the approximately 100 seats he had inspected in the last year, there was only one that was better than mine (a person who came in just last week, actually, and that one didn't need any adjustments). I don't know if he was just saying that to make me feel better or if he meant it, but it did the trick. Of course, all I could think was, "Geez, had I made the call sooner, I could have had the best installation he's seen in the last year." :D He told me that once Peep arrives, I can call again and he'll show me how to adjust the harness so the buckles are where they're supposed to be on the baby. And then it was over.

Any of you out there who are expecting, or already have babies and haven't had your seat checked, if they offer the service in your area - go for it! It was free, it didn't take long at all, and it's totally worth it! Even if you're afraid of the police, like chicken me. :D

Going to Jail Today

Well, the police station, anyway. I finally got the courage to call last week to schedule a safety inspection for Peep's carseat. I had actually installed the seat (all by myself, thank you very much!) back in February, but we had to take the base out last Saturday when we picked up Peep's dresser. So there I was again on Wednesday night, struggling with a much larger belly in my way (and in the dark, no less, because I had a retirement dinner that evening and had to watch "Lost" as soon as I got home, before even considering attempting the installation). We also recently purchased one of those seat protectors and it seems that with that added in, I now cannot get the seat perfectly level. It's close, but just a tiny bit of orange peeked out in the dial, taunting me. After two attempts, including putting a rolled up receiving blanket underneath the back of it to try to level it out, I gave up. It's in and if Mr. Police Officer doesn't think it's safe enough, *he* can re-install it. It doesn't move, so I figured that's the most important part anyway, right? But we'll see what he has to say this afternoon.

OMG!

There are only 5 weeks left! 35 weeks pregnant today, 35 days left. How could that be? Where did the time go? I know I'm ready as far as having the *things* we need. But I'm not sure if I'm mentally ready yet. Heck, we still don't have any names, and I can't remember what I proposed anymore since it's been months since I gave up on suggesting any!!

Today is our 4th wedding anniversary. Funny how, at this time last year, we were preparing to start our TTC journey. We decided on Mother's Day last year that it was time to start our family. But I had to wait until I talked to my doctor first because I had some underlying issues that we needed to ensure wouldn't interfere (like the white coat hypertension I suddenly developed, as well as the potential for PCOS). We did some more testing, just to finalize everything. I was to get the results back on May 23rd, but we got a little anxious that morning and "went for it" anyway. ;) Fortunately, my blood pressure was not an issue (I had to wear a 24 hour monitor to find out if it was high all the time, or just in office... it was fine over 95% of the time). My primary did say that I had PCOS and she wanted to refer me to a reproductive endocrinologist at my follow-up appointment on June 10th. Nobody expected me to end up being pregnant already by that appointment (and barely within the testing time frame, at only 12 DPO). It was special, though, because June 10th is Brian's birthday. We thought it was a sign of wonderful things to happen. Conceived during the 1st cycle trying (and we really only started trying a few days before O), and confirmed on his birthday. Halfway was to be only days before my birthday. It was meant to be.

As we all know, I only made it to July 19th before we discovered that I lost that pregnancy, probably around July 17th. My due date was February 17th.* But it was meant to be. I learned so much from that experience, from the short time I had with Arabella. I learned to value life so much more, to appreciate the miracle of pregnancy and gestation for the miracle it truly is, and to look deeper within myself. As many of my sistas in the blogging world have said before, without her loss, I would not be pregnant now. This baby never would have existed. And while I missed the innocence I had in my first pregnancy, and I do think it prevented me a bit from bonding in the beginning, I appreciate this one so much more. I do not take it for granted.

I guess that's why I'm amazed that there's only 5 weeks left. I don't know when I slipped into that comfortable feeling exactly, when I just "let it be" and went with the flow. But I did. And now, instead of worrying about keeping the pregnancy, I now have to shift mindset into dealing with actually having a baby. It's like I wasn't able to necessarily equate pregnancy with the product, a living, breathing being *outside* of my body, before now. I mean, I *knew* that's what would happen eventually, but I was focusing so much more on the now that it just didn't seem much of a reality to me. It will be, soon enough. Amazing!

*Since I really paid attention to #s after that, it was also ironic to me that the cycle I got pregnant with Peep began on September 17th (or you could say, that was the end of the post-D&C cycle). Every time I come across a 17 or 19 now, it really grabs my attention.

Woohoo!

It works! Hopefully, if Lauren has a chance, she can post directly to my blog to let everyone know when the big event is impending or has occurred! It's so nice to get my ducks in a row. :)

Thinking of you, Crista! Best wishes for a speedy delivery and a healthy baby Bella!

ETA: It appears there is a limit to email posting...can't include links. :(

Testing...

In light of all the excitement going on at Crista's blog, I figured I'd give
email posting a shot and see if I can get it to work. Testing, testing, 1,
2, 3... Did it work?

Little To No Progress

I had another OB appointment today. It was pretty much your usual stuff. I was weighed (total gain is now 26 lbs in 34.5 weeks), blood pressure taken (118/74), peed in a cup (that was okay), etc. The doctor I was supposed to see was called out on an emergency, so I was able to see my favorite OB instead. We discussed some concerns I had. Namely, the issue at work. The end of June is the start of one of the busiest times of year where I work, and we will be short staffed as it is while I'm still there, but it will be even worse the week after my due date. We discussed not going past my due date by using induction, but she said she couldn't say anything at this point because it all depended on if my cervix was progressing like it should... otherwise, it could bring on a whole slew of other problems that go very much against my birth plan (basically, that I wanted a med-free delivery). She did say that she could write me out of work at any point after 37 weeks, though, which is a change in what I was told originally. When I first asked about how long I could expect to work, I was told that they normally have you work up until the baby is born unless there are complications. So at least I have my ticket out at work. All I have to do is tell her when and she'll write it up, which also means I can use my sick leave for that time off in addition to the 6-week recovery period. I only have 11 weeks of sick time accumulated, though, so I better wait as long as I can... I just won't work past my due date, that's all.

The funny part came when I asked about having an internal done. I wasn't due for one until my next appointment, but with all these babies on the expecting boards coming early lately, I was anxious to hear that there was progress. She explained that she didn't expect there to be any at this point and that she would do it, but she wanted me to understand that it's uncomfortable and she didn't want me to be disappointed by the results. She also explained that it really didn't mean anything at this point because everything changes when it's ready to... sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. I already had one internal in late March due to cramping, so I knew what to expect at least, and had her go for it. Sure enough, she said I was maybe 1 cm dilated on the outside, but closed up on the inside (she didn't mention effacement, but she made it sound like there was no thinning out at all so far). She may have even thrown in the 1 cm to make me feel better, but she did say I wasn't closed up tight, at least. Afterwards, she told me that she thinks I'm the only patient who's ever asked her for an internal. I'm sure she's right... I don't exactly relish the thought of other people looking and poking around in my privates, but I really wanted to know. :D

Other than that, my belly is still measuring 2 weeks ahead. Peep's heartrate is in the 150s. Everything looks good. I go back on May 31st and that's when weekly appointments start. I also have to have the GBS test at that time and it will be the start of weekly internals, whether I like it or not. :D

Perspective

We had our hospital tour today. As I've mentioned before, I'm not thrilled about the location of the hospital where I'll be delivering. The practice I am seeing used to give you the option of UCONN Health Center in Farmington or Hartford Hospital in Hartford. I wanted to deliver at UCONN. Unfortunately, now they reserve that for their higher risk patients, leaving us to travel into "the city." To prevent a potential problem from backed up rush hour traffic on the highway into Hartford, I had researched some options for alternative routes. We learned why you don't rely solely on Yahoo Maps and other such programs for your directions. They started out innocently enough. We drove down a row of mansions, admiring them as we passed along. The neighborhood quickly changed, however, and before we knew it, we were in Frog Hollow. I had never been there before, but it's a place I've heard of due to its poor reputation. It seemed to go on forever, and convinced me that it was NOT a place I'd like to end up potentially giving birth if we cut it too close. At least if we were stuck on the highway, we could call 911 and get a police escort. I don't know if the police even venture into Frog Hollow.

By the time we got to the hospital, Brian and I were screaming at each other. As I stated in my previous post, I've been pretty grouchy this week. Riding in the car with him driving always is a test of my nerves, but today, I just wasn't up to the challenge...especially since he complained the whole way through Hartford about how he hates driving in cities. At least the directions got us to the hospital, though. Without speaking to each other, we went into Hartford Hospital and followed the map that was mailed to me. It was actually pretty easy to find the correct wing and floor, but we went in sort of the back way (so we went through the post-partum wing instead of directly into L&D).

There were already a few people waiting for the tour to begin, as well as others who were there obviously waiting on admitted family. I sat down on the couch next to an older man and tried to avoid eye contact. I just don't have the gift of gab that my father has and prefer to keep to myself. Eventually, however, as the numbers in our group grew, the man couldn't resist asking if we were there for a Lamaze class. I couldn't ignore him, so I responded, "No, tour." He proceeded to tell me about his daughter who never made it to her Lamaze class or tour. She just had her 4.5 lb baby and was 7, almost 8, months pregnant when this occured. He said it so matter-of-factly, it didn't occur to me at the time to ask if she and the baby were okay, but he didn't seem upset (nor did the rest of his family when they arrived from breakfast or lunch shortly thereafter). He smiled and said that he told her she missed out on the best part of pregnancy: the last month when you can't even get up from a chair, and he glanced around the room at our huge bellies. I politely smiled back, but I really didn't know what to say. Eventually, his family arrived and relieved me from conversation.

But the conversation stuck with me. I wish I had offered well wishes to his daughter and inquired about her baby's health. I wish I had encouraged him to talk, as he obviously needed and wanted to. I wish I had said more. Here I am, complaining about the aches and pains, being a grouchy-grump and crying because Brian wouldn't pick up Peep's furniture yesterday while this woman had real issues to be concerned with. I've complained that I want Peep out now so I can get my body back, and this woman got that granted without even wishing it, and much earlier than doctors would prefer.

Whomever you are, I wish you and your baby the best. May s/he gain weight quickly and be healthy enough to come home with you soon.

Carrie The Grouch

I've been a bit of a Miss Grouchy-Pants this week. It seems I've had quite enough of the little annoyances. I'm sick of people being rude to an obviously pregnant woman. I'm sick of crazy drivers who seem like they're out to get me. (I won't even get into how many near-misses I've had since the last person hit me!) I'm sick of bad weather on the weekends (this will be the 4th in a row!). I'm sick of getting no help around the house. I'm sick of annoying people at work asking stupid questions. I'm sick of working late every Thursday night. The list goes on and on. It seems the case of the grouchies showed up around the same time I started to get really uncomfortable. Connection? Probably. Poor Brian...it seems this will only get worse before it gets better.

I did get some great news this afternoon, though. My MIL emailed me, letting me know that she got the call that Peep's chest and combo dresser are in. I find this pretty amazing. My mother ordered Peep's crib 2 weeks before my MIL placed her order. Both were quoted 8-10 weeks. And yet, here are the case pieces already, less than 4 weeks after they were ordered, and no news of the crib to date. I called my mom to ask her about it and she said she hasn't heard anything, but it is possible that my brothers took the call and didn't give her the message. When we call to schedule pick up, we'll have to ask about the crib. Maybe it's waiting there, too! The bad news? For the 4th weekend in a row, it's going to rain. All weekend, this time. Since there's no time to drive all the way over there during the week to pick up the furniture, it will be another week until we can pick it up. And that's only if the weather cooperates *next* weekend, which right now, the extended forecast says rain next Friday through Sunday...again. :( I'm really anxious to put away Peep's stuff, especially since I had a surprise shower last Saturday (so now there's a lot more stuff to put away!). But the only chance I have of doing anything about it this weekend is if I can convince Brian to rent a U-Haul truck, and that's not very likely considering the conversation we had... Stupid weather!!! So, in keeping with my now overly-emotional preggo self, I've proceeded to cry over the whole situation and tell Brian to "just forget it." What happened to me???

Dreams

There's no doubt that the preggo mind can conjure some incredibly strange and elaborate dreams. I've certainly had my share of them with this pregnancy. The latest ones, though, have me wondering if they're just the product of the preggo mind or if they're supposed to mean something.

A couple nights ago, I woke up at 2AM completely confused. I wasn't sure if it was a dream or not, but I recalled the ghost of Brian's Granny (who passed away maybe 5 years ago) coming to me and telling me, "Name him Jack." I think it was the fact that it was definitely her ghost that had me wondering about this one. I slept horribly the rest of that night. I'm still not sure if that's a message I'm supposed to pay attention to, or if it's just the result of hearing about one of my MIL's cousins new grandson, Jack, at my shower on Saturday.

Last night, I dreamt of birth. It wasn't a horrific, nightmarish dream at all. I remember feeling peaceful and it being a beautiful experience. I dreamt of breastfeeding and caring for our baby. Oddly, I didn't dream which gender. That's usually what my Peep dreams are about (although, I have had dreams of Peep in which s/he was first one gender, then the other). I take this dream to be a good sign. Sometimes I wonder if I'm trying to fool myself...that I'm really freaked out about the whole thing, but if I keep telling myself I'm not, I won't be. Not that I've consciously felt freaked out; I just wondered if that was sitting there just beneath the surface. Last night's dream seems to confirm that I am pretty comfortable with this birth thing, at least.

Which is good because as soon as Peep is healthy enough to come out, I'm ready for him/her. I'm getting more and more uncomfortable. It felt like Peep's head was on my bladder all day yesterday. Immediately after relieving myself, I felt like I had to go again. And I feel like a Weeble walking down the hall at work. One of my co-workers told me it looked like my belly had dropped. I don't know how she can tell since I'm carrying pretty low anyway, but Peep's kicks are lower than they were. Usually, they're at the top of my belly (right under my ribs) and from the middle to the right. Yesterday, they were just above my belly button and more from the middle to the left. 34 weeks today. 3 weeks until I'm full-term. Heck, I could probably have Peep in 2 weeks and s/he'd be healthy, right? I'm ready... We just need a name...

Happy Belated Mother's Day!

To all of you, whether you're mothers now, once were mothers, are mothers-to-be, or are striving to become a mother. You all deserve recognition. I hope it was a great one!!

The belly continues to grow...

I wonder how much bigger it will get?

I Don't Exist

At least, not in Hartford Hospital's records.

Our hospital tour is next Saturday. The hospital sends a form letter confirming the "appointment" after you've been signed up. In this letter, they mentioned a form that was to be filled out by my 32nd week of pregnancy...I hit 33 weeks yesterday. I had waited to see if this was a form I would fill out at my last appointment (last Friday), but alas, no paperwork was was required of me at that appointment. So I called the hospital today to find out what this paperwork was. The woman I spoke with tried to pull up my information in the system...but alas, I was not there. I don't know what happened to the pre-admission form I filled out at my first prenatal appointment, but it never arrived at the hospital. Fortunately, I was able to give them my information over the phone and this required form will be mailed to me immediately so I can fax it back as soon as possible. Good thing I called them today! Can you imagine if I didn't and how it would have been trying to admit me in labor if they didn't have any of my information?

6 weeks and 6 days left. Or 4 weeks and 6 days (gasp, even 3 weeks and 6 days!)... Let's hope it won't be 8 weeks and 6 days. I'm starting to get extremely uncomfortable. Toting a bowling ball around in my pelvis isn't the easiest thing. And I can't even roll over in bed without help now. Once I get past 35 weeks, I'll be ready for Peep to come...and hoping s/he decides to make an early arrival. Even the financial consultant I spoke with at Hartford Hospital recommended a birth on June 19th (of course, that's because it's her birthday...but I'll take it!). I don't even care anymore that I haven't had a shower yet and we still don't have at least half of what we need. Is it June yet?

Not Totally Insensitive

Brian and I have been together for nearly 10 years now. I learned in that time that he is just not the romantic type. He doesn't send flowers. He doesn't plan surprise romantic dinners. He just doesn't know how to be that kind of person.

This afternoon, I got a call from him at work. It took a bit to find out what he was calling about (he has a tendency to mess around when he calls, refusing to say why he called and usually, turning it around and asking me why I called him).
"Did you get your package?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Somebody told me you're getting a package today."
"I didn't stop home at lunch."
"I didn't ask you that. You didn't get your package?"
"Wait. Do you have tracking information for 'this package' and that's why you're asking me this?"
"Yes."
"Alright, I'll go downstairs and see if it's in the Comptroller's Office."

Any packages that come into our building go through the Comptroller's Office. Usually, they'll call to tell you if there's a package waiting for you, but apparently, they hadn't gotten around to it. Sure enough, on the top of the pile was a box for me from the Vermont Teddy Bear Company. Seeing this, the ladies insisted I open it right away. This is what was inside the box:

Of course, they all oohed and aahed over it. I couldn't stop beaming. This is not the Brian I know, that's for sure. I tried dropping hints 3 or 4 years ago about the Vermont Teddy Bear thing, but last year was when I pretty much gave up hope of him ever doing anything like this.

I read the card: "Happy first Mother's day!! I can't wait to meet you. Love, Peep (hopefully Daddy will pick a name soon)"

Aha... Now I think I know why this came. A couple days ago, we had a bit of a disagreement regarding Mother's Day. Brian wants to work on my truck on Mother's Day and I had said something about how we should be celebrating. He responded that I'm not a mother yet and that it's a day for kids to give their moms gifts. I'll let that sink in.... .... ....I was not too happy with his response. Ever since I lost Arabella in July, I've struggled with societal definitions of things like motherhood, knowing that I really am a mom already, even if I don't have a child to show for it yet. I've now nurtured 2 children (only to lose 1 of them). That's no small feat in and of itself, as anyone who has ever been pregnant knows. I've also learned that life starts long before birth. I feel I've been a mother ever since we discovered I was pregnant with Arabella. Apparently, he didn't feel that way. It made the bedroom quite uncomfortable that night. I'm not one who demands a make-up gift, and I can't say I've ever received one before. So whether this was prompted by the discussion the other night, or he thought it up on his own regardless, I'm grateful. There was definitely thought behind this gesture. Maybe there's hope for him yet. ;)

Difference Of Opinion

All weekend long, Brian talked about how he wants a house. He wants more space. He wants to move. He doesn't want to live where we do anymore. But most especially, he doesn't want to rent anymore.

I understand. Really, I do. It sucks not being able to do whatever you'd like with your living space because it's owned by someone else - especially when you used to own that space. It's even worse having to listen to the elephant people upstairs perform their ballets (or whatever it is those skinny people are doing to make so much noise that they sound like they weigh a ton each!). I'd like to be able to go outside and not have to worry about if one of them is smoking on the porch above me or deal with the loud noise from whenever they turn the water on because it's always on full blast. But I don't want to be a slave to a house again.

When we owned our house, every weekend was devoted to some sort of maintenance issue. Whether it was mowing the lawn, shoveling snow, gardening, raking, painting, etc, etc, etc, our weekends were never our own. We enjoy lazing about in front of the TV all day, if we so choose, or going for a hike at a moment's notice. All that maintenance didn't fit well with the lives we had and now have again. I'm not ready to give that up, especially with Peep on the way. I want to be free to take Peep to the playground or for a hike, to go sledding or visit Grandma, whenever I feel like it. It's bad enough that I will be away from Peep for roughly 40 hours a week working, I don't want to give up any more time than I have to.

It's almost a non-issue anyway. With the bills we currently have, plus the upcoming $210/week we'll have to pay for Peep's daycare, there simply won't be any extra money to buy. Brian says he would work 2 or 3 jobs if he had to, but I don't want him to. Time is something you can never get back, no matter how much money you have or what you buy. I know that; my father worked 7 days a week at 2 jobs for most of my life. He was never there on the weekends, and when he was home, he was usually sleeping. I don't want that to happen to Peep. As long as we have a roof over our heads, any roof, I don't see any reason to make that happen. No reason is good enough for that, in my opinion.