Each week seems to pass more quickly than the last - it's a little alarming. Did you know, that I am three(ish) weeks away from the point where my doctor probably wouldn't intervene if I go into labor? THREE WEEKS. Dude, I'm so not ready to go into labor. I mean, that's going to hurt. I've been reading birth stories, and the women keep using the same description of how it feels - like the upper half of your body is trying to rip away from the lower half. Um, PASS. But it's too late now!
What's new this week?
- My feet hurt. The pain/soreness is mainly situated in my heels. My center of gravity is completely tipped towards the front, so I naturally lean-back on my heels to counter-balance (and prevent face dives). The result? Super sore heals. And they're starting to swell a little, so all of my work shoes are tight. I've transitioned to sandals, which isn't work appropriate, but I like to think that I have a good excuse.
- My engagement ring has a new home. In a drawer. We went to an outdoor concert this past Friday night, and it was HOT. I had both rings on, but desperately wanted them OFF my finger by the end of the night. My wedding band is thin, so it doesn't bother me. But I do miss the combo.
- I've started to pull-together my hospital bag. The list has been sitting in excel for awhile now, but I've actually started purchasing the items. My mom and I went shopping a couple weeks ago, and we found awesome pjs and a lightweight robe. The lollipops and gum are in my closet. This weekend I'm going to start pulling together the items that I don't use often and putting them in a corner of my closet. I've decided that I'm going to have a "just in case I need something more" pile. It'll save Josh some guesswork if he has to run home for more items.
- I'm not sleeping well. During the middle months I was sleeping fairly consistently, only waking-up twice a night (which is AMAZING compared to six times a night during the first trimester). Well, I've starting to wake-up more. And we all know why I'm waking up. I have to pee. I'm able to get comfortable and fall asleep quickly, but the damage has already been done.
- I feel L Bean super high in my belly. It seems like he hovered at belly button level for WEEKS. And then overnight he was an inch past my belly button. Now I can feel him a solid four inches above my belly button, especially when he does a full body stretch (you know, when tries to extend his arms OUT of my lady bits and kicks his feet into my throat).
- I could use third trimester maternity clothes. All of my clothes are tighter. But I'm holding out. It doesn't make sense to buy any more clothes.
- We have ONE project left in L Bean's room. Just one! And it's an easy one.
- I had to rock myself out of the seated position on the couch. Yes, it's just as funny/pitiful as you're picturing it to be.
- What if he's not a Liam? This new thought has crept into my brain. What if he comes-out and he's not a Liam? Josh has assured me that he will be, which is good. Considering his name is already on the wall.
- It still hasn't clicked. I still don't think it's clicked that there's actually a baby in my belly. I scrutinze a newborn diaper and then hold it against my stomach - my brain fights the idea that there's something in there that will be big enough to wear it.
- We have a stroller in our dining room. Husband's brother and his wife won't make it to our baby shower (but they will make it up to VA shortly after L Bean is born!), so they sent our shower gift early. Our stroller! HOLLER. Of course Josh immediately got busy putting it together. And of course I took it for a spin around the downstairs. Who wants to go with me to the park in the middle of the workday in October for a walk?!?!
- Identity crisis. Before I got pregnant, I was just Betsy. Tall, skinny, Betsy. And then I got pregnant. And I was Preggo Betsy (thanks, Sarah). Still tall, now thickening, Betsy. If I'm completely honest, I admit that the transition was interesting and hard at times. Now I'm used to Preggo Betsy. Just in time for me to be Mom Betsy. I'm going to miss Preggo Betsy, there's no doubt about that. Pregnancy has been amazing. I've only had two geniuely uncomfortable days in 8+ months of pregnancy. And then I'll be Working Mom Betsy. Luckily I'll have a kick-butt kid to help ease the transition.
We had yet another doc appointment yesterday. My mom came with us. She was really excited to see Doc (Doc was my Aunt Amy's doctor, sot he whole family knows him well). Doc did a quickie ultrasound to see how our little man is looking. Good, strong heartbeat. His head, belly ("of the beast"), and legs are measuring about a week ahead. His estimated weight is 5 lbs 10 oz. According to babycenter.com a 33 week-old baby weighs "a little over 4 pounds." So, um, I'm growing a sumo wrestler (and my lady bits quiver). We got to peep his face in 3D. Um, cutie! Well, what we could see of his face looked cute. He had his hand in his mouth. Doc pushed on my stomach to get him to move. I believe Doc said, "Oh, that REALLY pissed him off (to which I was thinking, "No, duh, Doc. I could literally FEEL his disdain for you)." L Bean completely turned away and hid. Hid everything. Looks like someone is going to be stubborn like their Momma (Lord, help us). Doc pushed on my belly again, but L Bean wasn't having any of it. I guess he wants his face to be a total surprise come D Day. Husband and I keep talking about how fun it''ll be to see who he resembles. Because, I don't know if you knew this, but this kid is half ME and half HIM. Crazy, right!
25 Items Added
If you have some free time and you're DYING to know more about me, hop on over to the 100 Things About Me page. Now, there are actually 100 things listed! The last 25 things are from guests posters. I didn't edit a thing, as much as I may have wanted to. I take no responsibility for the terrible embarrassing things I said with I was little (you know, those stories that people just love to bring-up over and over). I love the new additions, however embarrassing they may be, and I truly appreciate the people who offered to share. I love you guys!
Gettin' it done
We had another busy weekend full of (mostly) baby related stuff. Warning: This is another long weekend update post with lots of pictures and random baking tips thrown-in the middle.
Friday:
We went to a Dave Matthews concert at Nationals Stadium in Washington, DC with my brother and his lovely wife. It was awesome. HOT, but awesome. It was still in the 90s at 9:00 PM. Josh and I spent almost $30 on water alone. We got the tickets months and months ago, and weren't sure how it would go being 32 weeks pregnant. But it was a piece of cake. Really. And there were a handful of other preggos there.
Saturday:
I was WORTHLESS for much of the day due to a late bedtime Friday night and a still early rise Saturday morning (and the concert/heat themselves). But Husband, on the other hand, was productive. While I laid in bed/on the couch/lazily putzed around the house cleaning, Husband got to work on the magnetic chalkboard in L Bean's room. We've been planning this project for a while now. Remember that blue square on the wall from a picture in a previous post? It's more than a blue square now!
Husband put a few (okay, like six or seven) coats of magnetic paint down. And then he put two coats of chalkboard paint down. He cut, painted, and built the frame to look like our windows.
Magnetic paint
Painting the trim in the 100+ degree heat.
Doing something important that I asked about but don't remember his reason. BEST WIFE EVER!
He even cut-out a groove for the chalk!
I made the magnets months ago. I heart Michael's. We LOVE the finished product.
During the day, I baked more chocolate chip cookies. These cookies are my claim to fame. A guy Husband works with has offered to pay me to make him a full batch. What do I do that's special? These are the five cookie baking rules that I swear by (if you care):
(1) You're baking, so follow the directions EXACTLY. Measure and level-off everything. You can eyeball dinner, but you cannot eye ball cookies. If the recipe tells you to mix for three minutes on high, then set the micro timer and mix for three minutes on high. If it tells you to mix the dry ingredients then mix the wet ingredients, DO IT.
(2) Use a good cookie sheet. Don't even dream of using a dark, non-stick one. That's cookie suicide #1 (unless you prefer your cookies all around crispidy crunchidy). We got our cookie sheets from a restaurant supply store for $10 each. Crate and Barrel sells them for $30 each. The bottom has two layers and form a bubble in between.
(3) Use three cookie sheets. Cookie suicide #2 - putting raw cookie dough on an already hot cookie sheet and throwing it in the oven. The cookie sheets need to be room temperature each time you put the cookie dough down. I rotate three cookie sheets. That third sheet has plenty of time to cool-off by the time you need it (just don't leave it sitting on the stove, above the oven).
(4) Refrigerate your cookie dough in between batches.
(5) Bake for less time than the recipe calls for. And then set the timer for 30 second increments and keep an eye on the cookies for the last minute or so. Take the cookies out just BEFORE they've reached perfect doneness. They will continue to cook as they sit on the cookie sheet for a couple minutes before they're transferred to drying racks.
And what do you do with brown bananas?
Bake banana bread! I did banana bread muffins for ease of consumption. SO YUMMY.
Sunday:
I cleaned more. Did laundry. We cleared much of the furniture off the carpet and vacuumed. Husband rented a carpet cleaner from Lowe's and got to work on the carpets.
Fiona and Henrik watched-on from the stairs.
They NEEDED it. Renting the cleaner isn't very expensive, and it makes a huge difference. Especially when you have lots of pets. Add a kid to the mix? Yikes!
We went grocery shopping. Husband trimmed the front hedges
He also cut the grass and trimmed (Monday after work). I supplied the water and encouragement (two things I have gotten VERY good at these past few months).
The highlight of the weekend? I burned my stomach on a cookie sheet. 2nd degree burn. My standard at home pregnancy attire is a tank top and pj pants. It was warm in the kitchen, so I had the tank top pulled-up and my stomach out for ventilation (don't laugh. You've either (a) been pregnant before and done it yourself or (b) you'll do it when you're pregnant. Trust me). I momentarily forgot I had a protruding belly, and WHAM! SEAR! PANIC!
I ran outside to show Husband and complain about how much it hurt and how stupid I am. He loved on me and was a Sympathetic Super Husband. And then it dawned on him that we were having our maternity session with our wedding photographer in three days. He brought this to my attention, and then IMMEDIATELY regretted it. I made some sort of whining noise and then ran inside to commence Cry Fest. After cleaning the paint off his hands, he ran inside after me. There I was BAWLING while trying to spoon banana bread mixture into a muffin pan (which, btw, was very hard to do because I couldn't see ANYTHING through the tears). He coddled and loved on me, assuring me that Don could Photoshop the mark, and telling me not to cry. To which I replied, "I'M PREGNANT. CRYING IS WHAT I DOOOOO (sob, sniff, sob, snot bubble)." I eventually realized that he was right and stopped crying. But dude! That burn still HURT.
I accidently broke the blister right after it happened, which made the burn snot and goop. I'm wearing an awesome gigantic band-aid as I write this. As if I wasn't sexy enough already.
We only have one more nursery project to finish, and then we are DONE. Which is awesome and sad at the same time. We've had so much fun pulling the nursery together. We've bonded over the experience, and get this - we didn't fight. NOT ONCE. I mostly attribute this to being married to the nicest, most loving and understanding man on the PLANET. I'll post final pictures soon.
Oh, and we gave Fiona a bath. C-U-T-E.
Not Ready to Double Down
There are a handful of baby things that I'm not ready to buy-into quite yet (and some of them NEVER). Some of them seem pointless to me. Some of them seem excessive. Some of them seem paranoid. Some of them seem like they're more for the parents than the baby (think 30 person first birthday party with booze). And some are just plain stupid. Here are some of the things I've run into over the past eight months (YEAH, it's been eight+ months since I was officially pregnant):
(1) Wipe Warmers - Really, REALLY? To me, it's just another thing that we need to plug in and find space for. I know babies don't like chilly things, but COME ON. If it's that big of a deal, just "haaaaaaaah" on it a couple times like you would your gloveless hands in 30 degree weather. We don't need one more thing that wastes power and runs-up our power bill. I love you L Bean, but no wipe warmer for you.
(2) Diaper Genie/Diaper Pail - I can totally see why people purchase these, and I even had one on our registry for a while. But they still stink, and after a few months the wee/poo smell soaks into the plastic (even with a liner). We take our trash out every-other-day, if not every day. Why can't we just throw the dirties in the big-kid trash can? Five out of the seven days of the week our trash can already smells like Henrik farted.
(3) Baby detergent - I'm a little torn on this one. Deft is EXPENSIVE. And I've heard countless accounts of regular detergent being just fine and dandy, as long as it's fragrence free. Why spend the extra money if your baby doesm't have sensitive skin and doesn't react to good ol' fragrence free ALL or Tide? I guess I could just be like this chick and MAKE my own detergent. And cue laughter.
(4) Bottle warmers - Again, just another thing we need to find space for and plug into the wall. Babies like warm milk, that's a given. I believe (and don't quote me on this because I haven't tasted/felt it) breast milk comes out luke-warm? For the first little while, problem solved! When we introduce a bottle, however, we have to make a decision. Obviously we'll have to thaw frozen breast milk, but I'm not sure that I want to heat it up past room temperature. If your baby is used to WARM milk, and all you have is semi-chilled milk, you're DONE FOR. Why not get baby used to non-warmed milk from the get go? Or at the very least heat that bad boy up on the stove or in the micro (yes, I am aware that microwaves can create hot spots) when you're in a "the baby is FREAKING OUT and reaching unheard-of deciple levels" pinch.
(5) Kid on a leash - Please, for the love of PETE, don't put your kid on a leash. Hold his hand. Teach him to stay close. I don't know, WATCH him. Or chase his little behind around. He's a KID. He's not going to listen to you at all times. He is, however, going to look you right in the eye and DEFY whatever it is you've commanded of him. Yes, if your kid is on a leash I'm most likely juding you. I just can't help it. Although, if they came-out with a Kid-Flexi leash, I just may have to eat my words.
(6) Baby robes - Cute, yes. Necessary, no. Unless you can dry-off your kid with that robe, it's just one too many things. If you must spend the money, get one of those adorbs hooded towels instead (I DIE). You can even get one monogrammed!
(7) Organic cotton sheets, crib bedding, clothes, blankets, towels, EVERYTHING - I'm all for eating organic, but girl, please. $24 bucks for an organic cotton long-sleeved bodysuit? You crazy.
(8) Let's talk nursery bedding/decor - Okay, we purchased a bedding set (fitted sheet, quilt, bumper, dustruffle). We probably could have done without, but hello, it's really CUTE. We did not, however, purchase the 800 other items available with the set. Like the decorative, TINY pillow for $25. And the $30 diaper stacker - let's be real here: how annoying will it be to refill that bad boy? And how much are you REALLY going to care about how cute it is when you're three weeks in, you're already refilled it six times, it's 3 AM, and it's empty AGAIN. Or the valence, wallhanging, wall border - there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. I'm just sayin.
(9) Baby shoes (0 to 6 months) - Is your baby walking at 6 months? Are those $24 Puma speedcats really serving any purpose? Uh oh, a week has passed, and he's already grown out of them. Shucks. Get some socks with grippies. Although, you know he's just going to kick those off too.
(10) Changing table - What are you going to do with that changing table when you're no longer changing your sweet pea? This one is tricky because a long dresser can be WAY more expensive than a changing table, and sometimes you just can't swing it. But if you can, swing for the dresser that you can throw a changing pad and a basket on.
Just my ten cents. Now hop over to our registry and judge me for all of the pointless things I've registered for.
(1) Wipe Warmers - Really, REALLY? To me, it's just another thing that we need to plug in and find space for. I know babies don't like chilly things, but COME ON. If it's that big of a deal, just "haaaaaaaah" on it a couple times like you would your gloveless hands in 30 degree weather. We don't need one more thing that wastes power and runs-up our power bill. I love you L Bean, but no wipe warmer for you.
(2) Diaper Genie/Diaper Pail - I can totally see why people purchase these, and I even had one on our registry for a while. But they still stink, and after a few months the wee/poo smell soaks into the plastic (even with a liner). We take our trash out every-other-day, if not every day. Why can't we just throw the dirties in the big-kid trash can? Five out of the seven days of the week our trash can already smells like Henrik farted.
(3) Baby detergent - I'm a little torn on this one. Deft is EXPENSIVE. And I've heard countless accounts of regular detergent being just fine and dandy, as long as it's fragrence free. Why spend the extra money if your baby doesm't have sensitive skin and doesn't react to good ol' fragrence free ALL or Tide? I guess I could just be like this chick and MAKE my own detergent. And cue laughter.
(4) Bottle warmers - Again, just another thing we need to find space for and plug into the wall. Babies like warm milk, that's a given. I believe (and don't quote me on this because I haven't tasted/felt it) breast milk comes out luke-warm? For the first little while, problem solved! When we introduce a bottle, however, we have to make a decision. Obviously we'll have to thaw frozen breast milk, but I'm not sure that I want to heat it up past room temperature. If your baby is used to WARM milk, and all you have is semi-chilled milk, you're DONE FOR. Why not get baby used to non-warmed milk from the get go? Or at the very least heat that bad boy up on the stove or in the micro (yes, I am aware that microwaves can create hot spots) when you're in a "the baby is FREAKING OUT and reaching unheard-of deciple levels" pinch.
(5) Kid on a leash - Please, for the love of PETE, don't put your kid on a leash. Hold his hand. Teach him to stay close. I don't know, WATCH him. Or chase his little behind around. He's a KID. He's not going to listen to you at all times. He is, however, going to look you right in the eye and DEFY whatever it is you've commanded of him. Yes, if your kid is on a leash I'm most likely juding you. I just can't help it. Although, if they came-out with a Kid-Flexi leash, I just may have to eat my words.
(6) Baby robes - Cute, yes. Necessary, no. Unless you can dry-off your kid with that robe, it's just one too many things. If you must spend the money, get one of those adorbs hooded towels instead (I DIE). You can even get one monogrammed!
(7) Organic cotton sheets, crib bedding, clothes, blankets, towels, EVERYTHING - I'm all for eating organic, but girl, please. $24 bucks for an organic cotton long-sleeved bodysuit? You crazy.
(8) Let's talk nursery bedding/decor - Okay, we purchased a bedding set (fitted sheet, quilt, bumper, dustruffle). We probably could have done without, but hello, it's really CUTE. We did not, however, purchase the 800 other items available with the set. Like the decorative, TINY pillow for $25. And the $30 diaper stacker - let's be real here: how annoying will it be to refill that bad boy? And how much are you REALLY going to care about how cute it is when you're three weeks in, you're already refilled it six times, it's 3 AM, and it's empty AGAIN. Or the valence, wallhanging, wall border - there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. I'm just sayin.
(9) Baby shoes (0 to 6 months) - Is your baby walking at 6 months? Are those $24 Puma speedcats really serving any purpose? Uh oh, a week has passed, and he's already grown out of them. Shucks. Get some socks with grippies. Although, you know he's just going to kick those off too.
(10) Changing table - What are you going to do with that changing table when you're no longer changing your sweet pea? This one is tricky because a long dresser can be WAY more expensive than a changing table, and sometimes you just can't swing it. But if you can, swing for the dresser that you can throw a changing pad and a basket on.
Just my ten cents. Now hop over to our registry and judge me for all of the pointless things I've registered for.
It's the little things
Sometimes (okay, almost every night) when I’m falling (trying to) asleep at night I try to imagine what our lives will be like in two short months. I imagine all of the ups and downs we’ll endure. I try to imagine what it’ll be like to be a mom. And I picture all of the things that I’ve been dreaming about since I was little, since I met my husband, and since I first peed on that stick.
Here are some of the things I’m most excited about in the first couple months.
1. Baby smell. I can’t wait for that first deep breath where I just take-in L Bean’s smell. Have you ever smelled a newborn? It’s amazing. And I can’t fathom how amazing it will be to smell MY newborn.
2. The first picture of Josh and L Bean napping together. You’ve seen the picture – Dad is asleep on the couch with baby lying across his chest. Heart meltage.
3. Changing my cell phone background picture to the latest L Bean picture. I can’t wait to have baby featured on that screen. I have a phone upgrade coming in October, and I plan to load-up on L Bean pictures to get me through my days when I’m back at work.
4. Seeing my husband hold his son for the first time. I don’t even need to explain this one. My heart flutters just thinking about it.
5. Baby pictures. Not fancy baby pictures, just pictures of our baby. I can’t wait to fill-up our external hard drives with hundreds of baby pictures (many of which will get posted to the blog, of course!).
6. The 2010 holidays. The main holiday season this year is going to be a doozy. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and our birthdays all fall with in less than three months of each other. I can’t wait for cute outfits, our Christmas card this year, and birthday celebrations as a family of three.
7. Seeing my dad hold L Bean for the first. I’m not sure why, but I’m the most excited to see my dad with L Bean. He’s so ready and so excited to be a grandpa. I predict tears. And I know he and L Bean are going to be best buddies.
8. Late night feedings. Say WHAT?!?! Notice that this is something that I look forward to in the first couple months. Meaning, at this point I’ll be home all day every day (read: not waking-up for work each morning). I know I’ll be tired, and I know it’ll be tough. But I’m willing to bet that there is something really special about those middle-of-the-night feedings, when the rest of the world is turned-off and it’s literally just the two of us.
9. Watching my husband become a father. He has the biggest heart of any man that I know, and he’s going to be the best dad. I can’t wait to watch it happen.
10. Picking L Bean’s outfits every day. He’ll be like a doll, only better.
11. Packing/organizing for the first few trips out of the house. I can’t wait for that chaos! Oh, the planning that is to come. I can’t wait to pack the diaper for the first time. And to pull-out the stroller at our very first destination. I can’t wait to walk around (wherever we are) next to my husband pushing a baby stroller that has OUR kid in it. I’m sure we’ll pack WAY too much and over think EVERYTHING those first few trips, but it’ll be so much fun to learn together.
12. Baby wearing. I can’t wait to strap L Bean to me with a Moby wrap. And too see Josh with L Bean strapped to his chest – SWOON.
13. Watching our pets adjust to L Bean’s presence. I can’t wait to see how our pets react to L Bean. We have a few predictions. Fiona will be curious and enamored from day one. She’ll want to lick him and have constant access to him. Henrik will be cautious and unsure for a few days, and then he’ll gradually come around. Eventually, he’ll love L Bean more than any of the other pets, being his protector and best bud. Both dogs will be jealous at first. Rooney won’t give a rip. She’ll sniff him a few times and go about her business. But who knows – she could surprise us and be his biggest fan. Beasley will be curious, curious, curious. He’ll hide from the noise at first, and then he’ll venture out for sniff sessions. Eventually, he’ll want to curl-up where ever L Bean is sleeping.
14. The first time in the hospital when there are no nurses or family around, it’s totally quiet, and it’s just the three of us. We’ll both be thinking, “This is our life now,” and “Is this really happening?”
Here are some of the things I’m most excited about in the first couple months.
1. Baby smell. I can’t wait for that first deep breath where I just take-in L Bean’s smell. Have you ever smelled a newborn? It’s amazing. And I can’t fathom how amazing it will be to smell MY newborn.
2. The first picture of Josh and L Bean napping together. You’ve seen the picture – Dad is asleep on the couch with baby lying across his chest. Heart meltage.
3. Changing my cell phone background picture to the latest L Bean picture. I can’t wait to have baby featured on that screen. I have a phone upgrade coming in October, and I plan to load-up on L Bean pictures to get me through my days when I’m back at work.
4. Seeing my husband hold his son for the first time. I don’t even need to explain this one. My heart flutters just thinking about it.
5. Baby pictures. Not fancy baby pictures, just pictures of our baby. I can’t wait to fill-up our external hard drives with hundreds of baby pictures (many of which will get posted to the blog, of course!).
6. The 2010 holidays. The main holiday season this year is going to be a doozy. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and our birthdays all fall with in less than three months of each other. I can’t wait for cute outfits, our Christmas card this year, and birthday celebrations as a family of three.
7. Seeing my dad hold L Bean for the first. I’m not sure why, but I’m the most excited to see my dad with L Bean. He’s so ready and so excited to be a grandpa. I predict tears. And I know he and L Bean are going to be best buddies.
8. Late night feedings. Say WHAT?!?! Notice that this is something that I look forward to in the first couple months. Meaning, at this point I’ll be home all day every day (read: not waking-up for work each morning). I know I’ll be tired, and I know it’ll be tough. But I’m willing to bet that there is something really special about those middle-of-the-night feedings, when the rest of the world is turned-off and it’s literally just the two of us.
9. Watching my husband become a father. He has the biggest heart of any man that I know, and he’s going to be the best dad. I can’t wait to watch it happen.
10. Picking L Bean’s outfits every day. He’ll be like a doll, only better.
11. Packing/organizing for the first few trips out of the house. I can’t wait for that chaos! Oh, the planning that is to come. I can’t wait to pack the diaper for the first time. And to pull-out the stroller at our very first destination. I can’t wait to walk around (wherever we are) next to my husband pushing a baby stroller that has OUR kid in it. I’m sure we’ll pack WAY too much and over think EVERYTHING those first few trips, but it’ll be so much fun to learn together.
12. Baby wearing. I can’t wait to strap L Bean to me with a Moby wrap. And too see Josh with L Bean strapped to his chest – SWOON.
13. Watching our pets adjust to L Bean’s presence. I can’t wait to see how our pets react to L Bean. We have a few predictions. Fiona will be curious and enamored from day one. She’ll want to lick him and have constant access to him. Henrik will be cautious and unsure for a few days, and then he’ll gradually come around. Eventually, he’ll love L Bean more than any of the other pets, being his protector and best bud. Both dogs will be jealous at first. Rooney won’t give a rip. She’ll sniff him a few times and go about her business. But who knows – she could surprise us and be his biggest fan. Beasley will be curious, curious, curious. He’ll hide from the noise at first, and then he’ll venture out for sniff sessions. Eventually, he’ll want to curl-up where ever L Bean is sleeping.
14. The first time in the hospital when there are no nurses or family around, it’s totally quiet, and it’s just the three of us. We’ll both be thinking, “This is our life now,” and “Is this really happening?”
L Bean's Crib Mobile
It's official: L Bean has a crib mobile! It didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would either. Overall, I'd say it was a total success. And there were no tears involved. Score one for the pregnant lady.
I used the sewing machine for the ears. To prevent the fabric from fraying (and to avoid using the sewing machine anymore than absolutely necessary), we used a product called Wonder Under, or more affectionaltely known as My New Best Friend. We'll be seeing more of W.U. on another upcoming nursery project.
That's right people, you read that correfctly. I said "we." As in my husband helped me, WILLINGLY. He's been so awesome throughout this entire pregnancy. I really am a lucky lady. He drew the templates for the elephants (I can't draw to save my life) and the ears and he helped with the W.U. He also built the wooden structure and helped hang the mobile. Best helper EVER.
I hand-stitched the two felt piece together using a blanket stitch. I learned using this awesome tutorial. Seriously, what did people do before the internet?! Probably went to the library and looked at a sewing book. Yikes. The hand-stitching was actually the easiest part. It was also my favorite part.
The little elephants are know as felties in the crafting world. Obviously, they're made out of felt. I was first exposed to felties and DIY mobile here and here. And then I went here for further investigation and inspiration (that's one of the risks of putting things for sale on Etsy. Someone will look at your craft and think, "I can do that!." But for every one of those, there is someone who (1) doesn't have the time, (2) doesn't have the patience, or (3) doesn't have a crafty bone in their body).
The biggest thing I learned during the project? Sewing machines are HARD. And they take a lot of PRACTICE to master. And I definitely need a lot MORE practice. The hardest part was the speed at which it sewed. If there was a dial to slow the machine down (and there may be such a dial, but this machine is old. Like, really old. And the manual is ancient, but I surely did not take the time to read it. I'm a man like that), then I'd be a happy camper. In general, sewing machines aren't that complicated. Although, my bobbin is almost out, and doing another makes me super nervous.
I used the sewing machine for the ears. To prevent the fabric from fraying (and to avoid using the sewing machine anymore than absolutely necessary), we used a product called Wonder Under, or more affectionaltely known as My New Best Friend. We'll be seeing more of W.U. on another upcoming nursery project.
That's right people, you read that correfctly. I said "we." As in my husband helped me, WILLINGLY. He's been so awesome throughout this entire pregnancy. I really am a lucky lady. He drew the templates for the elephants (I can't draw to save my life) and the ears and he helped with the W.U. He also built the wooden structure and helped hang the mobile. Best helper EVER.
I hand-stitched the two felt piece together using a blanket stitch. I learned using this awesome tutorial. Seriously, what did people do before the internet?! Probably went to the library and looked at a sewing book. Yikes. The hand-stitching was actually the easiest part. It was also my favorite part.
Stuffing the tusk was a pain in the you know what. The first feltie was a struggle; but I developed a sytem and after that it was a breeze. The eye is a small black bead (Josh actually found them in the fabric store).
Adding-up all of the time we spent, I'd say the mobile took about 12 hours to complete. We spent about 3 hours the first day drawing, tracing, cutting, ironing (W.U.), sewing, and pinning. After that, I spent an hour or two here and there over the following week hand-stitching. We spent $27 on the felt, fabric, W.U., thread, and beads (the mobile that matches our bedding is $40 + shipping). I was geninuely sad when it was completed. I really enjoyed the process. But I LOVE the finished product. Hopefully L Bean will love it too.
And just for fun, here's a picture of Mr. H getting some Fiona cone love this past weekend. She is SO CUTE in her cone.
I have ankles!
I had an appointment with Doc (I actually met with his NP because he’s on vacation) on Friday, and all is well in Liam Land. My blood pressure and urine are good (side note: I had to pee so badly that once I started I amost forgot about the cup part. I had to scramble a little. Don't worry, I washed my hands). His heartbeat sounds good. And he’s still head down (please stay that way, little guy!). NP was impressed that I still had ankles. Why, thank you. She also told me that I certainly didn't look like someone who was 31 weeks, and to essentially shut up and take the compliment. Yes ma'am.
I learned a valuable lesson that morning: DO NOT ask if the doctor can tell if the baby is still head down if there’s no ultrasound machine around. I asked. And NP proceeded to place both of her hands on my belly and push around REALLY hard. I was caught off guard by her force (homegirl was TINY and practically stood on her toes for this maneuver), and totally unprepared for the pain that made my breath catch in my throat. I wanted to say, “Hey NP! There’s a baby in there, and you just shoved him into my SPINE and any organs that haven’t been pushed-up into my chest (yet).” After the assault, L Bean was none too happy. He quickly jabbed back at her with a foot to MY side. Um, hey kid, while I can appreciate your frustration, that’s your momma you’re pounding! In all fairness, I asked for it, so I suppose it was deserved.
What’s new this week? L Bean must be going-through a killer growth spurt because I am spent. Like, I ran 7 miles yesterday but only slept four hours last night, spent. I have bags under my eyes (thankfully, no one has pointed them out to me). Come 2:00 pm, I contemplate putting my head down at my desk. This kid is still sleeping through the night like a champ, though. They say your baby’s sleeping habits while he’s cooking somewhat mirror his habits once he leaves the oven. YES, PLEASE. Believe me, I’m not banking on it. I just have my fingers (and toes) crossed.
We toured a child development center this week. It’s at a church that’s a ½ mile from our house. Score. We both got a really good feeling when we were there. The women who work with the infants are all older, so it’s like dropping your kid off at Grandma’s. I love that. There were four babies lying around and fighting over toys (these two were twins), and I wanted to pick-up and snuggle each one of them. Especially this one little chunker. She kept waving, smiling, and putting her hands up in the air like she wanted to be picked-up. I probably would have thrown my back-out trying, but man did I want to snatch her up and run. We’ve added our name to the waiting list, and as of right now there’s only one other baby on the list for care starting in December.
Did you know childcare is REALLY expensive? And we’ve found somewhere “cheap.” Also, did you know that you have to pay tuition even if your kid isn’t there? Holidays, vacations, sick days – you still pay. It makes sense, but it still sucky poos. One the good side, there are a few instruments available that provide some savings. There’s a child care tax credit. And you can set-up a dependent care FSA. Still, we’re talking A LOT of money. Sad face.
We still haven’t set-up interviews with any pediatricians. I have, however, created a (super awesome) list of pediatricians and questions. I just need to make the calls.
A tour of L&D at the hospital is also in the works. I called Thursday to inquire and schedule, but the office was closed. Hopefully I get a return call sooner rather than later. I also want to try and pre-register as much as possible – fill-out paper work, etc. I’m not a big fan of hospitals, so I’m not looking forward to the tour. Or the stay in two months. I bet having a cute baby to play with will make it ALL better though. I keep forgetting that we get to leave the hospital with more than what we arrived with. So. much. more.
During our birth class Thursday night, I looked at Mr. H and said, “Are you going to remember all of these breathing techniques? They are going to be the last thing on my mind, and I’ll probably need you to remind me.” No pressure, Husband! He nodded, but I wrote them down just in case. Last night was transition breathing (What’s transition? You go from 8 to 10 centimeters really fast with the help of really painful contractions that come really often. I guess HELL would have been a more concise description). I’ll probably just end-up panting and moaning (or screaming), if I’m not numb from the chest to my knees, that is. If an epidural is going to happen, my goal is to at least get to 6 (preferably 7) centimeters before begging for (more like, demanding) it. Epis can really slow things down, so I want to be as close to transition as possible. I don't want any narcotics, because they seem to only slightly dull the pain and make you feel loopy/drunk. Plus, they cross the placenta (aka - baby gets a dose). I asked Mr. H what he thinks my pain threshold will be. He thinks I’ll be pretty tough (but he HAS to say that). I hope he’s right.
I learned a valuable lesson that morning: DO NOT ask if the doctor can tell if the baby is still head down if there’s no ultrasound machine around. I asked. And NP proceeded to place both of her hands on my belly and push around REALLY hard. I was caught off guard by her force (homegirl was TINY and practically stood on her toes for this maneuver), and totally unprepared for the pain that made my breath catch in my throat. I wanted to say, “Hey NP! There’s a baby in there, and you just shoved him into my SPINE and any organs that haven’t been pushed-up into my chest (yet).” After the assault, L Bean was none too happy. He quickly jabbed back at her with a foot to MY side. Um, hey kid, while I can appreciate your frustration, that’s your momma you’re pounding! In all fairness, I asked for it, so I suppose it was deserved.
What’s new this week? L Bean must be going-through a killer growth spurt because I am spent. Like, I ran 7 miles yesterday but only slept four hours last night, spent. I have bags under my eyes (thankfully, no one has pointed them out to me). Come 2:00 pm, I contemplate putting my head down at my desk. This kid is still sleeping through the night like a champ, though. They say your baby’s sleeping habits while he’s cooking somewhat mirror his habits once he leaves the oven. YES, PLEASE. Believe me, I’m not banking on it. I just have my fingers (and toes) crossed.
We toured a child development center this week. It’s at a church that’s a ½ mile from our house. Score. We both got a really good feeling when we were there. The women who work with the infants are all older, so it’s like dropping your kid off at Grandma’s. I love that. There were four babies lying around and fighting over toys (these two were twins), and I wanted to pick-up and snuggle each one of them. Especially this one little chunker. She kept waving, smiling, and putting her hands up in the air like she wanted to be picked-up. I probably would have thrown my back-out trying, but man did I want to snatch her up and run. We’ve added our name to the waiting list, and as of right now there’s only one other baby on the list for care starting in December.
Did you know childcare is REALLY expensive? And we’ve found somewhere “cheap.” Also, did you know that you have to pay tuition even if your kid isn’t there? Holidays, vacations, sick days – you still pay. It makes sense, but it still sucky poos. One the good side, there are a few instruments available that provide some savings. There’s a child care tax credit. And you can set-up a dependent care FSA. Still, we’re talking A LOT of money. Sad face.
We still haven’t set-up interviews with any pediatricians. I have, however, created a (super awesome) list of pediatricians and questions. I just need to make the calls.
A tour of L&D at the hospital is also in the works. I called Thursday to inquire and schedule, but the office was closed. Hopefully I get a return call sooner rather than later. I also want to try and pre-register as much as possible – fill-out paper work, etc. I’m not a big fan of hospitals, so I’m not looking forward to the tour. Or the stay in two months. I bet having a cute baby to play with will make it ALL better though. I keep forgetting that we get to leave the hospital with more than what we arrived with. So. much. more.
During our birth class Thursday night, I looked at Mr. H and said, “Are you going to remember all of these breathing techniques? They are going to be the last thing on my mind, and I’ll probably need you to remind me.” No pressure, Husband! He nodded, but I wrote them down just in case. Last night was transition breathing (What’s transition? You go from 8 to 10 centimeters really fast with the help of really painful contractions that come really often. I guess HELL would have been a more concise description). I’ll probably just end-up panting and moaning (or screaming), if I’m not numb from the chest to my knees, that is. If an epidural is going to happen, my goal is to at least get to 6 (preferably 7) centimeters before begging for (more like, demanding) it. Epis can really slow things down, so I want to be as close to transition as possible. I don't want any narcotics, because they seem to only slightly dull the pain and make you feel loopy/drunk. Plus, they cross the placenta (aka - baby gets a dose). I asked Mr. H what he thinks my pain threshold will be. He thinks I’ll be pretty tough (but he HAS to say that). I hope he’s right.
Health(ier) Eating Habits
I am constantly hungry, so I sometimes feel like eating/planning what I’m going to eat is a full-time job. Packing lunch/snacks takes pre-planning when it comes to grocery shopping (we’re huge proponents of packing lunch: (1) It’s cheaper going out to lunch, (2) it’s usually healthier, and (3) you can control portions easily). I find that my hungriest time of the day is before lunchtime. No matter what I eat for breakfast, I’m STARVING by 9:00 am. This may partially be because I eat breakfast around 6:30 am. For the longest time it’s been a bowl of cereal because that’s quick and easy. I’m beginning to think that I may need to ramp-up by breakfast routine. Oatmeal with fresh fruit and nuts on top or eggs, fruit, and toast. I’d probably get a lot more nutrients from either of those than I do from my bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch (which I LOVE. Oh, and Trix. And Lucky Charms. We’re such children). But making breakfast would require me to wake-up earlier, as in BEFORE 6:00 am. And there’d be those pesky extra dishes each day (btw, I HATE doing the dishes. If Mr. H would do all of the dishes and vacuum the stairs for the rest of our lives, I would be one happy camper). And I’d be willing to bet that I would still commit redrum for food by 9:00 am.
Yesterday morning I had a bowl of plain yogurt, strawberries, and granola at 9:30 am. By 10:30 am, I was right back to the hunger reminders (light-headed, headache, cranky) of 9:15 am. I am definitely more hungry now that I’m pregnant, but I’ve always been hungry ALL OF THE TIME. And I’ve always been a grazer during the day. Unless I go-out to lunch with co-workers, I don’t eat a big meal at lunch time. I just snack my way through the day, and have a small portion of dinner leftovers or a sandwich at lunchtime. Maybe I’m not eating the right things to fill me up? Either way, I’m feeling the need to change-up my eating habits.
Mr. H and I have always been decent eaters. We don’t snack when we’re at home. I make dinner almost every night. We pack our lunches. We eat wheat bread, yogurt, and fresh fruit like it’s our job. One of our favorite snacks is hummus and whole wheat pita. Mr. H even switched from mayo on his sandwich to hummus. He doesn’t drink any alcohol, and I (pre-pregnancy) drink little. We don’t drink much soda, except we usually have a bottle of Ginger Ale in the fridge. It’s a lot of water, milk, juice, and G2 for us. Even though we’re not terribly unhealthy, I feel like there’s a lot of room for growth. One major set-back for me is this: I’m not very food adventurous. And I don’t like onions. As in, I HATE them. Cooked, raw, sautéed into submission – hate them. Mr. H will literally try anything once. And if it’s not his favorite, he’ll eat it anyway (Please, Lord, let our son have his eating habits). So naturally I hate him too.
I’ve been reading a lot of fitness/food/healthy living blogs lately, and I’m feeling inspired. Not inspired enough to run out to Whole Foods and buy-up the whole store, but I’m feeling encouraged. Plus, changes like this don’t go well when you make a major switch overnight. The process needs to be gradual if it’s really going to stick. And maybe the process has already started; I’m in the beginning, consideration phase. We’re planning a Saturday morning trip to a local farmer’s market, so hopefully we’re taking a step in the right direction. I have big plans for zucchini bread/muffins this weekend!
I also have a big dream for next summer: I want to plant a veggie garden in our backyard. This is a BIG dream: (1) Because next summer is really far away, (2) We'll have a kid under one, (3) I'm really not in to yard work, and (4) I tend to kill plants easily. Either way, I still have the dream. We're not big tomato fans (I want to try and change this), but I figure we HAVE to plant at least one tomato plant. Other than tomatoes, I'm thinking: green beans (FAV), zucchini, yellow squash, red/green peppers, and maybe some lettuce? I don't want to go too crazy. Is corn easy to grow? I've done a little reading, and most of these veggies listed needed warm weather and full sun, which shouldn't be a problem. Mr. H has even agreed to help me build an enclosure of sorts. Check back in one year for progress (just THINK about how different things are going to be in one year - wowsa).
Side note: I’ve added a couple pages to the blog. I’m working on an “About Us” page. Hopefully I’ll get it done before baby comes, but we’re a little preoccupied right now :)
Yesterday morning I had a bowl of plain yogurt, strawberries, and granola at 9:30 am. By 10:30 am, I was right back to the hunger reminders (light-headed, headache, cranky) of 9:15 am. I am definitely more hungry now that I’m pregnant, but I’ve always been hungry ALL OF THE TIME. And I’ve always been a grazer during the day. Unless I go-out to lunch with co-workers, I don’t eat a big meal at lunch time. I just snack my way through the day, and have a small portion of dinner leftovers or a sandwich at lunchtime. Maybe I’m not eating the right things to fill me up? Either way, I’m feeling the need to change-up my eating habits.
Mr. H and I have always been decent eaters. We don’t snack when we’re at home. I make dinner almost every night. We pack our lunches. We eat wheat bread, yogurt, and fresh fruit like it’s our job. One of our favorite snacks is hummus and whole wheat pita. Mr. H even switched from mayo on his sandwich to hummus. He doesn’t drink any alcohol, and I (pre-pregnancy) drink little. We don’t drink much soda, except we usually have a bottle of Ginger Ale in the fridge. It’s a lot of water, milk, juice, and G2 for us. Even though we’re not terribly unhealthy, I feel like there’s a lot of room for growth. One major set-back for me is this: I’m not very food adventurous. And I don’t like onions. As in, I HATE them. Cooked, raw, sautéed into submission – hate them. Mr. H will literally try anything once. And if it’s not his favorite, he’ll eat it anyway (Please, Lord, let our son have his eating habits). So naturally I hate him too.
I’ve been reading a lot of fitness/food/healthy living blogs lately, and I’m feeling inspired. Not inspired enough to run out to Whole Foods and buy-up the whole store, but I’m feeling encouraged. Plus, changes like this don’t go well when you make a major switch overnight. The process needs to be gradual if it’s really going to stick. And maybe the process has already started; I’m in the beginning, consideration phase. We’re planning a Saturday morning trip to a local farmer’s market, so hopefully we’re taking a step in the right direction. I have big plans for zucchini bread/muffins this weekend!
I also have a big dream for next summer: I want to plant a veggie garden in our backyard. This is a BIG dream: (1) Because next summer is really far away, (2) We'll have a kid under one, (3) I'm really not in to yard work, and (4) I tend to kill plants easily. Either way, I still have the dream. We're not big tomato fans (I want to try and change this), but I figure we HAVE to plant at least one tomato plant. Other than tomatoes, I'm thinking: green beans (FAV), zucchini, yellow squash, red/green peppers, and maybe some lettuce? I don't want to go too crazy. Is corn easy to grow? I've done a little reading, and most of these veggies listed needed warm weather and full sun, which shouldn't be a problem. Mr. H has even agreed to help me build an enclosure of sorts. Check back in one year for progress (just THINK about how different things are going to be in one year - wowsa).
Side note: I’ve added a couple pages to the blog. I’m working on an “About Us” page. Hopefully I’ll get it done before baby comes, but we’re a little preoccupied right now :)
Countdown: 9 Weeks to Baby
Last night I slept for about five hours. It was my first night of discomfort from having a growing baby in my belly (so I guess I should say that I’ve been pretty blessed). First he got the hiccups. Then he got annoyed by his hiccups and started thrashing. Then he just wouldn’t settle down. I slept from midnight to 5:00 am (we went to bed at 10:00). I was COMPLETELY awake at 5:00 am. I laid there and listened to Fiona breath, then lick her cone, scratch at her cone, then breath some more. The previous night, the area on F’s jaw where Phantom Snake rocked our (my) world leaked a big puddle onto a pillow. It used to be filled with very hard, solid gunk, which gave-way to soft, gooey gunk. I compare it to a blister that gets so full that the slightest bit of pressure and splat! The spot doesn’t seem hurt her, I think it’s just itchy and annoying. I mean, how would YOU like it if you had a bump the size of a walnut on your cheek? Oh, and you weigh 10 pounds, so that walnut is ginormous in comparison to you. Anyway, I got up to check if she was leaking again (like a stupid blister, it filled back-up some). And then I had to pee. And by now Josh is getting restless and thrashing to get comfortable again. I manage to fall back asleep until the alarm clock blasts a song that goes, “PUT ME OUT OF MY MISSSERRRYYYY” at 6:00 am. How appropriate.
I am officially very pregnant because I go to the doctor every two weeks now. I have an appointment this Friday, and I find myself thinking, “Wait, I just had one of these.” Five weeks from now, I go to ONCE A WEEK. Oh, and around that time Doc will be sticking his arm up my who-ha. So psyched.
Did you know what women usually gain a pound a week in the last trimester (about half of which is baby putting on that adorable chub)? I haven’t discussed this in blogverse yet, but I’ve packed-on some poundage. I was five pounds over my usual when I got pregnant (stupid holidays), and then it was busy season (hello eating, sympathy/stress eating, no time to exercise, and more general eating). I’ve stopped looking at the scale, and I’ve requested that Mr. H not look; however, he deliberately disobeys each time, and then I end-up asking him about the damage anyway. As of my last appointment, I’d gained 33 pounds. I’ve never seen the scale so high in my life. I’m 20 pounds heavier than I’ve ever been. I know, I’m PREGNANT. It’s still alarming to see the numbers. So, if you figure-out a pound a week for 13(ish) weeks… I cry.
It seems like it took forever for my uterus to finally pass the height of my belly button, but now it’s flown past it. It won’t be long now until L Bean is sticking his feet in my ribs. He's already trying to stick an arm out of me for ventilation.
I have a faint linea negra forming below my belly button. I first noticed it a couple weeks ago. No stretch marks (PLEASE stay that way). My belly button is still hanging tough as an inny, but I’m not sure how much longer it can hold-out. It looks like the timer could pop any day now.
I was in the kitchen at work getting coffee this morning (yes, I drink a cup of coffee a day. Yes, it is allowed. No, I don’t care what you have to say about it), when someone asked, “When is the big day?” To which I reply, “Mid-September.” I usually don’t tell work people September 14th because that’s the day before a big deadline, and I still feel a little guilty about it. He replies, “Hmmm, September, huh? I don’t knoooow. I’m not sure you’re going to make it that far!” Okay, what does that MEAN? Does my belly really look THAT big? I assure you that it’s not. I have serious belly envy of the women in my birth class. We’re all around the same due date, and they’re bellies would whoop my belly in a fist fight. Are you referring to my shelf of a butt or my luscious thighs? If so they don’t appreciate being talked about as if they’re not in the room.
If I hear, “I bet you’re LOVING this heat!” or “I bet you’re just DYING in this heat!” or “I bet you’re just MISERABLE in this heat!” one more time, heads are going to roll.
Funny story: At the beginning of my pregnancy, my mom told me about the benefits of rubbing something rough on your nipples to shape-them-up for the abuse they’ll take. A rough terry cloth towel will due. She did this and had no discomfort breast feeding. Her friends did not do this and were miserable (I’m paraphrasing here). She calls me a few weeks ago and leaves this message on my cell phone: Have you been rubbing something rough on your niiiipples?!?! Something about it really will help. Love you, talk to you later, bye. I just about peed myself. Aren’t moms the best?
I am officially very pregnant because I go to the doctor every two weeks now. I have an appointment this Friday, and I find myself thinking, “Wait, I just had one of these.” Five weeks from now, I go to ONCE A WEEK. Oh, and around that time Doc will be sticking his arm up my who-ha. So psyched.
Did you know what women usually gain a pound a week in the last trimester (about half of which is baby putting on that adorable chub)? I haven’t discussed this in blogverse yet, but I’ve packed-on some poundage. I was five pounds over my usual when I got pregnant (stupid holidays), and then it was busy season (hello eating, sympathy/stress eating, no time to exercise, and more general eating). I’ve stopped looking at the scale, and I’ve requested that Mr. H not look; however, he deliberately disobeys each time, and then I end-up asking him about the damage anyway. As of my last appointment, I’d gained 33 pounds. I’ve never seen the scale so high in my life. I’m 20 pounds heavier than I’ve ever been. I know, I’m PREGNANT. It’s still alarming to see the numbers. So, if you figure-out a pound a week for 13(ish) weeks… I cry.
It seems like it took forever for my uterus to finally pass the height of my belly button, but now it’s flown past it. It won’t be long now until L Bean is sticking his feet in my ribs. He's already trying to stick an arm out of me for ventilation.
I have a faint linea negra forming below my belly button. I first noticed it a couple weeks ago. No stretch marks (PLEASE stay that way). My belly button is still hanging tough as an inny, but I’m not sure how much longer it can hold-out. It looks like the timer could pop any day now.
I was in the kitchen at work getting coffee this morning (yes, I drink a cup of coffee a day. Yes, it is allowed. No, I don’t care what you have to say about it), when someone asked, “When is the big day?” To which I reply, “Mid-September.” I usually don’t tell work people September 14th because that’s the day before a big deadline, and I still feel a little guilty about it. He replies, “Hmmm, September, huh? I don’t knoooow. I’m not sure you’re going to make it that far!” Okay, what does that MEAN? Does my belly really look THAT big? I assure you that it’s not. I have serious belly envy of the women in my birth class. We’re all around the same due date, and they’re bellies would whoop my belly in a fist fight. Are you referring to my shelf of a butt or my luscious thighs? If so they don’t appreciate being talked about as if they’re not in the room.
If I hear, “I bet you’re LOVING this heat!” or “I bet you’re just DYING in this heat!” or “I bet you’re just MISERABLE in this heat!” one more time, heads are going to roll.
Funny story: At the beginning of my pregnancy, my mom told me about the benefits of rubbing something rough on your nipples to shape-them-up for the abuse they’ll take. A rough terry cloth towel will due. She did this and had no discomfort breast feeding. Her friends did not do this and were miserable (I’m paraphrasing here). She calls me a few weeks ago and leaves this message on my cell phone: Have you been rubbing something rough on your niiiipples?!?! Something about it really will help. Love you, talk to you later, bye. I just about peed myself. Aren’t moms the best?
Hospital Bag(s)
Last week I started a list for the things we need to bring to the hospital. Of course, the list is in Excel and it’s pretty. And yes, it makes me happy. And of course I researched the bajeezy out of this subject. Many of the places I looked actually broke-out the items into a couple different bags (here I was thinking one for me and MAYBE one for husband. I totally forgot the fact that we’ll leave the hospital with a baby). Some of you may be thinking, “Your due date isn’t until September, why in the HELLO are you worrying about this now?” Several reasons: (1) Have you met me? (2) See hyper-prepared reference below (3) I need to purchase a handful of items, and I don’t want to be waddling around Richmond in the 120 degree August heat buying-up nursing bras and mesh panties (4) Thanks to our general over-preparedness, I’m running-out of baby-related things to do.
As I’ve mentioned before, I tend to over pack. Okay, OKAY! I ALWAYS over pack. I don’t like stuff, I just like being prepared. Being over-prepared. Being HYPER-prepared. It’s how I get my jollies. I can just picture it now: Mr. H drops me off at the hospital entrance, goes to park the car, and then saunters into the hospital with four bags, a cooler, three pillows, a laptop, and a camera bag (that has both of our cameras inside). Poor husband. And then I remember that I’ll have a baby trying to depart my body through my vagina, and I don’t feel as badly for him (LOVE you husband).
Here’s my list so far:
General items:
(1) Car seat – DUH! Installed and ready to go. If I’m completely honest, I this didn’t cross my mind at first. I kind of forgot about the whole reason why we were going into the hospital in the first place.
(2) iPod + travel speakers – I definitely plan to listen to music, and I can’t promise that it will all be serene and calming. It won’t be Thrice or Taking Back Sunday, but there may be some Lady GaGa sprinkled in. Once I’ve made my mix, I’ll share the ear pleasing deliciousness with you.
(3) Cell phone + chargers
(4) Books/magazines – Because, you know, I’ll have so much idle time on my hands.
(5) Laptop and charger – Again, because I’ll be twiddling my thumbs. Hopefully HDH has wifi, and Mr. H can entertain himself. And let’s be honest – more than 24 hours away from the internet, and we will seize uncontrollably.
(6) Cameras – Along with extra battery packs, extra memory cards, and battery chargers. We’ll probably squeeze both of our cameras into my small messenger bag. I doubt I’ll ever touch mine, but I’ll take comfort knowing that it’s there JUST IN CASE.
(7) Change and $1 bills for the vending machines
(8) Gum/breath mints – I hadn’t thought of this one, but it makes total sense. Labor could be a loooong process, and there could be lots of close, face-to-face encouragement. You know what would make a laboring woman angrier? Stank breath in her face.
(9) Lollipops – Again, I hadn’t thought of this one, but it was suggested on nearly every website I read. Once you’re in the hospital, they won’t let you eat, so lollipops can help keep your blood sugar up, plus give the illusion that you’re eating something. And it’ll wet your whistle, since all those “ah-he, ah-whoos” will surely give you cotton mouth. I’m thinking dumdums.
(10) Chapstick – My drug of choice if Carmex. Yes, Carmex is my drug. And back to the “ah-he, ah-whooos;” these dry-out your lips. I did them for five minutes in our birth class, and I was frantically rooting around in my purse for my tube-o-lip-love. I can’t even imagine how hours of heavy mouth breathing will feel.
(11) Pillows – We’ll take two (maybe three). Hospitals give you one, maybe two if you ask. And they’re not going to be comfortable like your at-home pillow. Throw-on a pretty pillow-case, since it’ll be in ALL of the after birth pictures. Just be careful not to dirty it with birth nasties.
(12) Notepad + pen – I have a terrible memory, so I want to write-down the details of my labor and delivery. What’s happening, time-frames, what I’m saying, what I’m thinking, what Mr. H says, all of it. I don’t want to miss it. Mr. H has agreed to help chronicle our adventure. Our intentions may be in vain, but we’re at least going to try.
(13) Snacks – for Mr. H and after labor.
For baby:
(1) Going-home outfit – there’s no sense in packing clothes for the entire hospital stay. The hospital provides shirts and diapers. Plus, your little joy is bundled-up, so you won’t see that cute outfit anyway. And why create even MORE laundry?
(2) Receiving blanket – Some sources said don’t worry about it because the hospital provides blankets. Some said it’s nice to have your own. I think we’ll pack one of our own. And we’ll pack the super awesomely soft blanket my mom bought L Bean just because.
(3) Boppy pillow – For nursing in the hospital. You can use pillows to prop-up your baby, but a boppy is easier and more comfortable. Plus, it’ll be nice to use your own pillow that’s hasn’t been used by 800 other moms.
(4) Baby nail clippers or emery board – Just in case L Bean comes out with claws. I’ll probably throw-in a pair of scratch mittens too.
Other than these few items, the hospital provides most of what we’ll need. And much of which I plan to steal and take home with me.
For Mom:
(1) Cosmetic items for after labor – Shower items, face wash, hair brush, deodorant, toothbrush/toothpaste, lotion, etc. I’ll probably throw-in a small make-up bag too. After an experience that will likely leave me feeling rather inhuman, it will be nice to shower and put-on some mascara. I may be leaking every time I stand-up, but at least I’ll look pretty doing it!
(2) Robe – A thin, comfortable robe to wear over the hospital gown (because, hi, they’re open in the back) when I’m up-and-about. Everyone is going to see my goodies at some point, but I’d prefer it to not be on the walk to the bathroom.
(3) Slippers/socks – I’d like to be as mobile as possible for as long as possible. Hospitals are also cold.
(4) Nipple cream – Breastfeeding hurts until your poor nipples adjust to the extra attention.
(5) Nursing bras and pads – The hospital may provide pads, but I’m not taking any chances.
(6) Comfortable, big clothes for the hospital stay– I’m not sure how much I’m going to bring in the way of clothing. I’ll probably wear a hospital gown most of the time I’m there. It’s just easier, and maybe more comfortable. I’ll bring a pair of sweat pants, some nursing tank tops, a comfortable cardigan, and who knows what else.
(7) Disposable underwear – the hospital provides mesh panties and pads (all that stuff that’s been building-up in your body for 9+ months will be making a graceful exit through the path cleared by baby). I may pack a couple pairs of my own disposable undies and pads, just in case.
(8) A going-home outfit – Ideally I will wear home the same outfit I wore to the hospital; but given the fact that I’m over-prepared for everything, I’ll probably pack a separate outfit. Something loose and comfortable.
The thing I keep reminding myself with my bag is this: Mr. H can always run home to grab something. And to take-out the guess work, I’ll probably leave a stack of “I might need these” hospital items in an easy to access place.
I’m resisting the urge to make a list for Josh, but he’ll have a bag of his own. It’ll probably contain extra underwear, a t shirt, and extra shorts. Guys are so easy. I’ll throw-in his toothbrush with mine. He doesn’t wear deodorant. Yes, you read that correctly. Yes, he sweats. No, it doesn’t smell. Not even a little. Not even after a 90 minutes soccer game. He hasn’t worn it in YEARS. FREAK.
So that’s my list. If you made it this far, yay! If not, I don’t blame you. It’s only exciting to me and other pregnant ladies.
As I’ve mentioned before, I tend to over pack. Okay, OKAY! I ALWAYS over pack. I don’t like stuff, I just like being prepared. Being over-prepared. Being HYPER-prepared. It’s how I get my jollies. I can just picture it now: Mr. H drops me off at the hospital entrance, goes to park the car, and then saunters into the hospital with four bags, a cooler, three pillows, a laptop, and a camera bag (that has both of our cameras inside). Poor husband. And then I remember that I’ll have a baby trying to depart my body through my vagina, and I don’t feel as badly for him (LOVE you husband).
Here’s my list so far:
General items:
(1) Car seat – DUH! Installed and ready to go. If I’m completely honest, I this didn’t cross my mind at first. I kind of forgot about the whole reason why we were going into the hospital in the first place.
(2) iPod + travel speakers – I definitely plan to listen to music, and I can’t promise that it will all be serene and calming. It won’t be Thrice or Taking Back Sunday, but there may be some Lady GaGa sprinkled in. Once I’ve made my mix, I’ll share the ear pleasing deliciousness with you.
(3) Cell phone + chargers
(4) Books/magazines – Because, you know, I’ll have so much idle time on my hands.
(5) Laptop and charger – Again, because I’ll be twiddling my thumbs. Hopefully HDH has wifi, and Mr. H can entertain himself. And let’s be honest – more than 24 hours away from the internet, and we will seize uncontrollably.
(6) Cameras – Along with extra battery packs, extra memory cards, and battery chargers. We’ll probably squeeze both of our cameras into my small messenger bag. I doubt I’ll ever touch mine, but I’ll take comfort knowing that it’s there JUST IN CASE.
(7) Change and $1 bills for the vending machines
(8) Gum/breath mints – I hadn’t thought of this one, but it makes total sense. Labor could be a loooong process, and there could be lots of close, face-to-face encouragement. You know what would make a laboring woman angrier? Stank breath in her face.
(9) Lollipops – Again, I hadn’t thought of this one, but it was suggested on nearly every website I read. Once you’re in the hospital, they won’t let you eat, so lollipops can help keep your blood sugar up, plus give the illusion that you’re eating something. And it’ll wet your whistle, since all those “ah-he, ah-whoos” will surely give you cotton mouth. I’m thinking dumdums.
(10) Chapstick – My drug of choice if Carmex. Yes, Carmex is my drug. And back to the “ah-he, ah-whooos;” these dry-out your lips. I did them for five minutes in our birth class, and I was frantically rooting around in my purse for my tube-o-lip-love. I can’t even imagine how hours of heavy mouth breathing will feel.
(11) Pillows – We’ll take two (maybe three). Hospitals give you one, maybe two if you ask. And they’re not going to be comfortable like your at-home pillow. Throw-on a pretty pillow-case, since it’ll be in ALL of the after birth pictures. Just be careful not to dirty it with birth nasties.
(12) Notepad + pen – I have a terrible memory, so I want to write-down the details of my labor and delivery. What’s happening, time-frames, what I’m saying, what I’m thinking, what Mr. H says, all of it. I don’t want to miss it. Mr. H has agreed to help chronicle our adventure. Our intentions may be in vain, but we’re at least going to try.
(13) Snacks – for Mr. H and after labor.
For baby:
(1) Going-home outfit – there’s no sense in packing clothes for the entire hospital stay. The hospital provides shirts and diapers. Plus, your little joy is bundled-up, so you won’t see that cute outfit anyway. And why create even MORE laundry?
(2) Receiving blanket – Some sources said don’t worry about it because the hospital provides blankets. Some said it’s nice to have your own. I think we’ll pack one of our own. And we’ll pack the super awesomely soft blanket my mom bought L Bean just because.
(3) Boppy pillow – For nursing in the hospital. You can use pillows to prop-up your baby, but a boppy is easier and more comfortable. Plus, it’ll be nice to use your own pillow that’s hasn’t been used by 800 other moms.
(4) Baby nail clippers or emery board – Just in case L Bean comes out with claws. I’ll probably throw-in a pair of scratch mittens too.
Other than these few items, the hospital provides most of what we’ll need. And much of which I plan to steal and take home with me.
For Mom:
(1) Cosmetic items for after labor – Shower items, face wash, hair brush, deodorant, toothbrush/toothpaste, lotion, etc. I’ll probably throw-in a small make-up bag too. After an experience that will likely leave me feeling rather inhuman, it will be nice to shower and put-on some mascara. I may be leaking every time I stand-up, but at least I’ll look pretty doing it!
(2) Robe – A thin, comfortable robe to wear over the hospital gown (because, hi, they’re open in the back) when I’m up-and-about. Everyone is going to see my goodies at some point, but I’d prefer it to not be on the walk to the bathroom.
(3) Slippers/socks – I’d like to be as mobile as possible for as long as possible. Hospitals are also cold.
(4) Nipple cream – Breastfeeding hurts until your poor nipples adjust to the extra attention.
(5) Nursing bras and pads – The hospital may provide pads, but I’m not taking any chances.
(6) Comfortable, big clothes for the hospital stay– I’m not sure how much I’m going to bring in the way of clothing. I’ll probably wear a hospital gown most of the time I’m there. It’s just easier, and maybe more comfortable. I’ll bring a pair of sweat pants, some nursing tank tops, a comfortable cardigan, and who knows what else.
(7) Disposable underwear – the hospital provides mesh panties and pads (all that stuff that’s been building-up in your body for 9+ months will be making a graceful exit through the path cleared by baby). I may pack a couple pairs of my own disposable undies and pads, just in case.
(8) A going-home outfit – Ideally I will wear home the same outfit I wore to the hospital; but given the fact that I’m over-prepared for everything, I’ll probably pack a separate outfit. Something loose and comfortable.
The thing I keep reminding myself with my bag is this: Mr. H can always run home to grab something. And to take-out the guess work, I’ll probably leave a stack of “I might need these” hospital items in an easy to access place.
I’m resisting the urge to make a list for Josh, but he’ll have a bag of his own. It’ll probably contain extra underwear, a t shirt, and extra shorts. Guys are so easy. I’ll throw-in his toothbrush with mine. He doesn’t wear deodorant. Yes, you read that correctly. Yes, he sweats. No, it doesn’t smell. Not even a little. Not even after a 90 minutes soccer game. He hasn’t worn it in YEARS. FREAK.
So that’s my list. If you made it this far, yay! If not, I don’t blame you. It’s only exciting to me and other pregnant ladies.
Fiona Update and Actual Baby Stuff
I’m going to actually write about something baby-related today, after I update you on Fiona’s condition, of course.
She’s spending the day with her Auntie Sarah, who generously offered to watch/love Fiona for the day. We will not doubt get-back a very sleepy Fiona this evening, which means she’ll sleep through the night (and so will I). I received the cutest picture of F sitting atop her pillow throne on the couch while Sarah’s dog Talbot delivers her very best stank eye. F and T are typical female-dominant characters, so it’s always interesting to see who wins. Usually it’s Talbot since her morning poop weighs more than Fiona, but I have a feeling F may be today’s champion. You know, it’s the cone, the icky eyes, and that sad face that only an ailing 10 pound dog can deliver. Today, the game is mental.
Okay, now on to baby stuff. You know, the reason I created this blog in the first place.
We had an appointment with Doc last Friday morning. The plan was the do the usual and then do a 3-D (or is it 4-D?) ultrasound. Being the stubborn kid that he is (he’s already taking after his mother; if that’s the case, we are in TROUBLE), he kept his face covered the whole time. Jerk. He’s not shy about his little boy bits, but he’s apparently not ready to flash us his mug.
Back-up. What’s “the usual?” It consists of: (1) Pee in a cup. (2) Get weighed (sad face). Every time I ask Mr. H very nicely to please not look. Every time he looks. Best husband ever. (3) Blood pressure. (4) How are you feeling? (5) Any questions? (6) Wanna see your baby! HECK YES! Quickie ultrasound. (7) Set-up next appointment. (8) Pee in the bathroom in the hallway because it’s been 10+ minutes at this point.
When the nurse took my blood pressure, we were discussing something that got me excited (it had something to do with boobs, that’s all I’m going to tell you), and my BP was higher than usual. She came back at the end of the appointment to re-take. Back to normal. Phew. I was a little nervous when she took my BP the second time, so I was worried it would be high again. High BP at this point is an eye-brow raiser, and I like Doc’s eye-brows right where they are, thank you.
Doc switched-back to the regular ultrasound, and he took some measurements. It was a toss-up between almost vomiting and almost passing out when Doc measured his head. On the day of the appointment, I was 29 weeks, four days. L Bean’s head measured 33 weeks, 4 days (and my lady bits shudder). Doc measured other things like “the belly of the beast” and his spine, which both measured just a little big. Doc estimated his weight to be 3 pounds, 9 ounces. The caveat with ultrasound weight estimates – they’re always wrong. Let’s say the estimates are +/- 8 ounces (or a half pound). General estimates for a baby at 29 weeks is about 2 and a half pounds. So he’s measuring a little big all around. No surprise here (have I mentioned before that Josh was 8 pounds FOUR WEEKS EARLY? And he’s also 6’4”. Add that to my 5’9’ and 7 pounds, 8 ounces two weeks early). Keep-on growing, kiddo! Just remember that you have (yes, I am putting my foot down for the first time as your mother) to exit via my vajayjay, so don’t go too crazy.
I also asked what position L Bean was in because sometimes it literally feels like he’s laying horizontally. He’s head-down, and I’ve politely asking him to stay that way. So what I thought was his head pushing out against my belly button must be his butt. He’s not kicking my bladder, he’s punching it. And he’s not trying to stick a foot out of my vagina, he just has sweaty balms that need some air.
We started our childbirth class last week. Mr. H almost fell asleep during the first hour, as the Nurse Lady went through the class syllabus in DETAIL and depicted my cervix as a budding rose and contractions like waves in an ocean. Mr. H got to practice relaxation/touch techniques on me for 15+ minutes. Meaning, I got a 15+ minute massage without having to ask. SCORE. His night was made when Nurse Lady told us to switch places, and Mr. H got a 5 minutes rub down of his own. We’ve been instructed to bring loads of pillows and two towels to tomorrow’s class. As long as Nurse Lady doesn’t have me hee-hee-hoooooing, we’ll be good. Oh, and we get to watch the video. You know, THAT video. I can’t wait for the awkward, heavy silence that will undoubtedly overtake the class (all ten of us). I’m going to bring my camera tomorrow. Hopefully I can sneak a few pictures of the experience.
She’s spending the day with her Auntie Sarah, who generously offered to watch/love Fiona for the day. We will not doubt get-back a very sleepy Fiona this evening, which means she’ll sleep through the night (and so will I). I received the cutest picture of F sitting atop her pillow throne on the couch while Sarah’s dog Talbot delivers her very best stank eye. F and T are typical female-dominant characters, so it’s always interesting to see who wins. Usually it’s Talbot since her morning poop weighs more than Fiona, but I have a feeling F may be today’s champion. You know, it’s the cone, the icky eyes, and that sad face that only an ailing 10 pound dog can deliver. Today, the game is mental.
Okay, now on to baby stuff. You know, the reason I created this blog in the first place.
We had an appointment with Doc last Friday morning. The plan was the do the usual and then do a 3-D (or is it 4-D?) ultrasound. Being the stubborn kid that he is (he’s already taking after his mother; if that’s the case, we are in TROUBLE), he kept his face covered the whole time. Jerk. He’s not shy about his little boy bits, but he’s apparently not ready to flash us his mug.
Back-up. What’s “the usual?” It consists of: (1) Pee in a cup. (2) Get weighed (sad face). Every time I ask Mr. H very nicely to please not look. Every time he looks. Best husband ever. (3) Blood pressure. (4) How are you feeling? (5) Any questions? (6) Wanna see your baby! HECK YES! Quickie ultrasound. (7) Set-up next appointment. (8) Pee in the bathroom in the hallway because it’s been 10+ minutes at this point.
When the nurse took my blood pressure, we were discussing something that got me excited (it had something to do with boobs, that’s all I’m going to tell you), and my BP was higher than usual. She came back at the end of the appointment to re-take. Back to normal. Phew. I was a little nervous when she took my BP the second time, so I was worried it would be high again. High BP at this point is an eye-brow raiser, and I like Doc’s eye-brows right where they are, thank you.
Doc switched-back to the regular ultrasound, and he took some measurements. It was a toss-up between almost vomiting and almost passing out when Doc measured his head. On the day of the appointment, I was 29 weeks, four days. L Bean’s head measured 33 weeks, 4 days (and my lady bits shudder). Doc measured other things like “the belly of the beast” and his spine, which both measured just a little big. Doc estimated his weight to be 3 pounds, 9 ounces. The caveat with ultrasound weight estimates – they’re always wrong. Let’s say the estimates are +/- 8 ounces (or a half pound). General estimates for a baby at 29 weeks is about 2 and a half pounds. So he’s measuring a little big all around. No surprise here (have I mentioned before that Josh was 8 pounds FOUR WEEKS EARLY? And he’s also 6’4”. Add that to my 5’9’ and 7 pounds, 8 ounces two weeks early). Keep-on growing, kiddo! Just remember that you have (yes, I am putting my foot down for the first time as your mother) to exit via my vajayjay, so don’t go too crazy.
I also asked what position L Bean was in because sometimes it literally feels like he’s laying horizontally. He’s head-down, and I’ve politely asking him to stay that way. So what I thought was his head pushing out against my belly button must be his butt. He’s not kicking my bladder, he’s punching it. And he’s not trying to stick a foot out of my vagina, he just has sweaty balms that need some air.
We started our childbirth class last week. Mr. H almost fell asleep during the first hour, as the Nurse Lady went through the class syllabus in DETAIL and depicted my cervix as a budding rose and contractions like waves in an ocean. Mr. H got to practice relaxation/touch techniques on me for 15+ minutes. Meaning, I got a 15+ minute massage without having to ask. SCORE. His night was made when Nurse Lady told us to switch places, and Mr. H got a 5 minutes rub down of his own. We’ve been instructed to bring loads of pillows and two towels to tomorrow’s class. As long as Nurse Lady doesn’t have me hee-hee-hoooooing, we’ll be good. Oh, and we get to watch the video. You know, THAT video. I can’t wait for the awkward, heavy silence that will undoubtedly overtake the class (all ten of us). I’m going to bring my camera tomorrow. Hopefully I can sneak a few pictures of the experience.
Vet, Pet, and Eye Guy Adventures
Okay, so I lied about the “getting back on the wagon” thing. We will probably be a little Fiona side-tracked this week as well.
We woke-up this morning, and Fiona was looking a little worse than she had the past couple of days. I knew in my heart that something still wasn’t right, and she needed more doctor attention. Plus, my nerves were shot, and I needed a doctor to see my baby girl and either tell me, (a) She looks good, progressing like she should be, or (b) We need to do something different/more because she still looks wrecked. I came to work this morning with plans to call the vet’s office when they opened at 7:30 am and request an appointment asap. I was hoping to get in early so we would have time to see a specialist today, if it came to that. They could fit us in at 8:20 am, LOVE THEM. I sent a few pertinent emails, and then I rushed home to grab Fiona and hurry to the vet.
When I open the door, I see a bloodied Fiona, and I LOOSE it. I lost control of the emotions I had been trying to keep a lid on for a week now. She somehow managed to Houdini around her cone and break-open her left eye lid (which is three times its normal size these days). When I really think about it, I don’t think she was able to access her eye with one of her paws. I think she ran into something or scraped her face on a pillow while jumping onto the couch. Something like that. She didn’t bark when I got home and unlocked the door, so I knew something was up. Knowing isn’t the same as KNOWING (read: seeing). Bring on the waterworks. My first real pregnant cry (I’m not counting commercials, tv shows, and movies) - Holy hormones.
I didn’t have time to wipe her eye and the fur around her eye, but I knew Vet Lady would do it (she had lots of crusties that needed to the wiped away). We hop in the car, and I call Mr. H. He picks-up, and I bawl. After a fairly incoherent conversation where he asked, “Are you okay?” And I respond, “No, I am not okay. I am NOT OKAY,” I hang up and try to collect myself for the Vet Lady. I managed fairly well, that is until I opened the vet office’s front door. Fiona recognized the smell (and the pain she had experienced there twice last week), and she started to shake VIOLENTLY. Cue breakdown numero dos. I said little to the receptionists because I knew more than I word or two at a time would release a fury of emotions. I had to pee, so I took Fiona into the bathroom, where she huddled close to the legs/feet and shook. There went my chances to recover gracefully in the privacy of the bathroom. I say zero to the technician in the exam room as she weighed Fiona and took her temperature (normal, a good sign) for the same reason mentioned above.
We’re left alone in quiet for a few minutes. Usually they don’t close the exam room door during the exams, but the technician was smart enough to shut it nice and tight when she walked-in and when she left. In walks Vet Lady, and I LOOSE IT. Really loose it this time. The entire time Vet Lady looked like she wanted to give me a hug, which I would have gladly accepted. I turned my back so I couldn’t see Fiona shaking like a leaf, bloody, and looking smaller than usual on the exam table. Vet Lady takes her into the back to clean her up and assess the situation. Five minutes later she comes back and says she called an eye specialist, and he can fit me in right now if we have the time. YES, we have the time. Vet Lady informs that she’s here all weekend if we need her, don’t worry about anything for this visit (as in you don’t have to pay for a thing), just take Fiona and go to the Eye Guy. I could have hugged her.
We scurry out the front door and b-line it for the grass so Fiona can do her business, which she does proficiently because she’s a champion marker and there was A LOT of unfamiliar pee spots in that small patch of grass. Ring, ring - it’s my mom calling my cell phone (what is it about moms and their perfect timing? It’s creepy). I contemplated not answering because I knew what would happen if I did. I answered, and I BAWLED (just as I expected). We hop in the car and head to the Eye Guy, which was only a few miles away (NICE). I hang-up with Mom and try, once again, to collect myself. We arrive at the eye office, and the two receptionists are total Bs. A complete 180 from the nice, concerned, pet-loving receptionists at our vet. I wanted to yell at them, “DO YOU EVEN OWN A DOG!?!?!” Fiona and I cower from the Evil Bs in a corner, and wait.
We’re ushered into an exam room by B #1, and we meet the Eye Guy two minutes later. Nicest guy ever. He takes a look at Fiona with his fancy eye instruments, and steps back to explain to me exactly what he sees in detail. Not only did he take the time to explain, but he graciously and gently fielded all of my questions. He also took the time to type-up his diagnosis and our discussion, which appeared on our invoice (um, awesome idea considering (1) I have pregnancy brain and can’t remember a thing, and (2) I was concentrating so hard on NOT crying that I hardly heard a word he said). She has severe inflammation likely caused by toxins on the eyelids or in the eyes (stupid phantom snake), which has been exacerbated by Fiona scratching her eyes. There’s a real word for it (starts with a B), I just wanted remember it, and I’m too lazy to look at the invoice. He prescribed more of the pill she has been taking, a new (amped-up) eye drop, and an additional antibiotic in pill form. He explained that she will take WEEKS (three to four) for Fiona to really start looking like herself. And he said this kind of thing needs to be treated for a few weeks because it’ll flare right back up if treatment is for only a couple weeks. But he did say that there should be a noticeable difference by the weekend.
All of that from Eye Guy, and it only cost $170. I have to say that I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how inexpensive this ordeal has been. We’ve paid much less than we expected, which has been nice.
After a few “awwww’s” from people in the waiting room (that’s right Evil Bs, my dog is cute, adorable, and WRECKED, and you would have noticed that if your heart wasn’t BLACK and FROZEN), Fiona and I head home with our new medicine bounty. F is panting and exhausted, which I am hoping will be to her benefit (read: she’ll sleep all afternoon instead of claw at her eyes). I have to go back to work, so I have a quiet conversation with F where I ask her nicely to leave her eyes alone. I came back at lunch to check-on the patient, and I open the door and say, “NO BLOOD!” to my step mom who is on the phone. And she barked when I got home, a good sign.
I am cautiously optimistic, although I am trying desperately to have 100% Faith. I hope to see a sleepy, non-bloodied Fiona when I get home from work today. Pray for her? And selfishly, pray for me and my sanity (all of this worrying, freaking out, crying, bawling, and not sleeping can’t be good for L Bean). I’m ready to turn a corner - a big fat happy, healthy corner.
P.S. - sorry about the length. The story required details, and I looooove details (obvi).
We woke-up this morning, and Fiona was looking a little worse than she had the past couple of days. I knew in my heart that something still wasn’t right, and she needed more doctor attention. Plus, my nerves were shot, and I needed a doctor to see my baby girl and either tell me, (a) She looks good, progressing like she should be, or (b) We need to do something different/more because she still looks wrecked. I came to work this morning with plans to call the vet’s office when they opened at 7:30 am and request an appointment asap. I was hoping to get in early so we would have time to see a specialist today, if it came to that. They could fit us in at 8:20 am, LOVE THEM. I sent a few pertinent emails, and then I rushed home to grab Fiona and hurry to the vet.
When I open the door, I see a bloodied Fiona, and I LOOSE it. I lost control of the emotions I had been trying to keep a lid on for a week now. She somehow managed to Houdini around her cone and break-open her left eye lid (which is three times its normal size these days). When I really think about it, I don’t think she was able to access her eye with one of her paws. I think she ran into something or scraped her face on a pillow while jumping onto the couch. Something like that. She didn’t bark when I got home and unlocked the door, so I knew something was up. Knowing isn’t the same as KNOWING (read: seeing). Bring on the waterworks. My first real pregnant cry (I’m not counting commercials, tv shows, and movies) - Holy hormones.
I didn’t have time to wipe her eye and the fur around her eye, but I knew Vet Lady would do it (she had lots of crusties that needed to the wiped away). We hop in the car, and I call Mr. H. He picks-up, and I bawl. After a fairly incoherent conversation where he asked, “Are you okay?” And I respond, “No, I am not okay. I am NOT OKAY,” I hang up and try to collect myself for the Vet Lady. I managed fairly well, that is until I opened the vet office’s front door. Fiona recognized the smell (and the pain she had experienced there twice last week), and she started to shake VIOLENTLY. Cue breakdown numero dos. I said little to the receptionists because I knew more than I word or two at a time would release a fury of emotions. I had to pee, so I took Fiona into the bathroom, where she huddled close to the legs/feet and shook. There went my chances to recover gracefully in the privacy of the bathroom. I say zero to the technician in the exam room as she weighed Fiona and took her temperature (normal, a good sign) for the same reason mentioned above.
We’re left alone in quiet for a few minutes. Usually they don’t close the exam room door during the exams, but the technician was smart enough to shut it nice and tight when she walked-in and when she left. In walks Vet Lady, and I LOOSE IT. Really loose it this time. The entire time Vet Lady looked like she wanted to give me a hug, which I would have gladly accepted. I turned my back so I couldn’t see Fiona shaking like a leaf, bloody, and looking smaller than usual on the exam table. Vet Lady takes her into the back to clean her up and assess the situation. Five minutes later she comes back and says she called an eye specialist, and he can fit me in right now if we have the time. YES, we have the time. Vet Lady informs that she’s here all weekend if we need her, don’t worry about anything for this visit (as in you don’t have to pay for a thing), just take Fiona and go to the Eye Guy. I could have hugged her.
We scurry out the front door and b-line it for the grass so Fiona can do her business, which she does proficiently because she’s a champion marker and there was A LOT of unfamiliar pee spots in that small patch of grass. Ring, ring - it’s my mom calling my cell phone (what is it about moms and their perfect timing? It’s creepy). I contemplated not answering because I knew what would happen if I did. I answered, and I BAWLED (just as I expected). We hop in the car and head to the Eye Guy, which was only a few miles away (NICE). I hang-up with Mom and try, once again, to collect myself. We arrive at the eye office, and the two receptionists are total Bs. A complete 180 from the nice, concerned, pet-loving receptionists at our vet. I wanted to yell at them, “DO YOU EVEN OWN A DOG!?!?!” Fiona and I cower from the Evil Bs in a corner, and wait.
We’re ushered into an exam room by B #1, and we meet the Eye Guy two minutes later. Nicest guy ever. He takes a look at Fiona with his fancy eye instruments, and steps back to explain to me exactly what he sees in detail. Not only did he take the time to explain, but he graciously and gently fielded all of my questions. He also took the time to type-up his diagnosis and our discussion, which appeared on our invoice (um, awesome idea considering (1) I have pregnancy brain and can’t remember a thing, and (2) I was concentrating so hard on NOT crying that I hardly heard a word he said). She has severe inflammation likely caused by toxins on the eyelids or in the eyes (stupid phantom snake), which has been exacerbated by Fiona scratching her eyes. There’s a real word for it (starts with a B), I just wanted remember it, and I’m too lazy to look at the invoice. He prescribed more of the pill she has been taking, a new (amped-up) eye drop, and an additional antibiotic in pill form. He explained that she will take WEEKS (three to four) for Fiona to really start looking like herself. And he said this kind of thing needs to be treated for a few weeks because it’ll flare right back up if treatment is for only a couple weeks. But he did say that there should be a noticeable difference by the weekend.
All of that from Eye Guy, and it only cost $170. I have to say that I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how inexpensive this ordeal has been. We’ve paid much less than we expected, which has been nice.
After a few “awwww’s” from people in the waiting room (that’s right Evil Bs, my dog is cute, adorable, and WRECKED, and you would have noticed that if your heart wasn’t BLACK and FROZEN), Fiona and I head home with our new medicine bounty. F is panting and exhausted, which I am hoping will be to her benefit (read: she’ll sleep all afternoon instead of claw at her eyes). I have to go back to work, so I have a quiet conversation with F where I ask her nicely to leave her eyes alone. I came back at lunch to check-on the patient, and I open the door and say, “NO BLOOD!” to my step mom who is on the phone. And she barked when I got home, a good sign.
I am cautiously optimistic, although I am trying desperately to have 100% Faith. I hope to see a sleepy, non-bloodied Fiona when I get home from work today. Pray for her? And selfishly, pray for me and my sanity (all of this worrying, freaking out, crying, bawling, and not sleeping can’t be good for L Bean). I’m ready to turn a corner - a big fat happy, healthy corner.
P.S. - sorry about the length. The story required details, and I looooove details (obvi).
A Non 4th Weekend
We didn't do a lot of 4th of July related activities this weekend, even though we had a few fun things planned. We aborted all such plans when we realized that Fiona needed constant vigilance (read: I just couldn't leave her). We finally found a cone that works, but she'd already had a few days to do damage. Although she may be headed in the right direction, her progress has been MUCH slower than my sanity can handle. The cone brings me some comfort, but you know what will really bring me comfort? Her being back to normal. Hopefully sooner rather than later.
Anyway, we took advantage of our self-imposed lock-in and got A LOT done around the house. Warning: This is a picture-heavy post.
Anyway, we took advantage of our self-imposed lock-in and got A LOT done around the house. Warning: This is a picture-heavy post.
12 hours after we first put on the cone. She's accepted to its presence. Both of the dogs are REALLY tired because I was home much of the week, and I totally messed-up their daytime nap schedule.
Mr. H giving F some love on her level.
This is my thought: be as organized and cleaned-out as possible because with baby comes lots and lots of stuff. I packed-away the kitchen items that we don't use on a regular basis. We now have free space in the kitchen cabinets, ready to be filled with sippy cups and kids silverware. I even created a kid-friendly (read: tupperware filled) lower cabinet for when baby proofing becomes necessary.
I cleaned-out and organized our pantry. Mr. H and I are on a mission to be less wasteful when it comes to food. So far we've been fairly successful. At the end of the week, when we're in need of the next grocery shopping trip, our pantry looks bare. Have you tried the new Artisan Triscuits? HEAVENLY.
I cleaned-out and organized the spice cabinet and baking cabinets. Like our fancy new pot rack? We got it at Ikea for $25 plus 3 packs of hooks for $3 each. The pot racks at Lowe's are $150+. Score! And I can't tell you how much cabinet space it has created. It'll look even better when our counters are black granite, and we upgrade our appliances. All in due time.
On a painting break, Josh played hide-and-seek with L Bean.
And he got some Fiona cone love.
While Henrik watched-on and got jealous. As much as we've tried to spread the attention wealth this weekend, Fiona has definitely gotten more and poor Henrik is feeling a little left out. Although, he does seem relieved to not be wearing a cone.
Josh painted the master bathroom. Goodbye bright yellow! You will NOT be missed. I kept hearing, "Morons. So stupid. LAZY!" Apparently, the previous owners (1) didn't know how to paint and (2) were too lazy to tape-off most of the rooms. The moldings, base boards, ceilings, door frames, face plates, etc. all over the hours are covered with paint. Added to the list of eventuals: Re-paint all trims and ceilings. Awesome.
He also painted the office, which was a baby's room for the previous owners. Below the chair-rail were vertical stripes of satin and ultra glossy paint. Josh was cursing the previous owners are he sanded the ultra glossy stripes. Goodbye baby blue! You will also NOT be missed.
The color is "rugged suede." It's a dark grayish brownish, but I just see brown. MORE BROWN! We do love our shades of brown.
I baked cookies. I have a feeling this will happen a lot over the next two months.
I organised the hand-me-down clothes we've received and the few new clothes that we've purchased into the drawers. I got a distinct feeling of, "OMW, this is really happening" while I was organizing.
Snugglesaurus.
The 3 to 6 month drawer.
I stocked the changing table basket with a few items.
And I put-away some hand-me-down and new blankets, burp rags, and bibs.
Our house is also spotless, as I spent free seconds grazing and cleaning. And all the laundry is done. Suffice to say, we're beat.
We don't have many things left before Don (and maybe Lindsay!) come to the house for our maternity session on the 27th. The cradle (we're using the cradle my brother and I used when we were babies) needs to be sanded, put back together, and stained. I need to make L Bean's mobile (shopping trip for fabric and supplies will hopefully take place this week/weekend). We need to finish the magnetized chalkboard in L Bean's room. I just consulted Mr. H, and those are the big things remaining. In terms of general baby prep, we're more than on-track. I need to start pulling together a list of things I want to pack for the hospital. We need to make a labor mix. I have to buy a few things for the hospital - big pajamas, a robe, a few comfortable nursing bras, etc.
Did I mentioned that we FINALLY got a kitchen table? Finally. $125 on craigslist.com. That's right. It's in perfect condition. The couple who sold it to us were getting married (this weekend!), and she was moving her stuff in to his condominium. Of course the guys stuff had to go, duh. Our gain, big time.
Do you like how I managed to get all four animals in the post? The cats were an unplanned surprise.
I've been a little Fiona-consume, so posts have been non-existent, and we missed the 29-week bump picture. Tomorrow is 30 weeks (DO WHAT?!?!), and we're getting back on the wagon.
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