Letters to Liam

Liam loves the bunnies

2011-10-17T08:20:00.000-04:00

A couple weeks ago I took the afternoon off to take Liam to the pumpkin patch... and he fell in love with the bunnies.

Video Updates

2011-07-26T14:00:00.000-04:00

Here are a few videos to show you just how big my guy has gotten (here a hint: in seven weeks, he'll be a TODDLER).

Liam in the bath at 9 1/2 months

Liam at 10 months

Bathtime as a Big Boy

2011-05-14T15:42:00.000-04:00

Liam is 8-months old today. Woop! and what?! at the same exact time. To celebrate, I went to BB&B to get a bath mat (as well as sheets and pillows for our couch, but those impulse buys are unrelated) for Liam's first bath in the big boy tub. I'm pretty sure he didn't notice, except for the awesome blue bubbles under his butt.

Here's hoping he likes the pool as much as he likes bathtime.

Totally Inappropriate

2011-05-14T08:38:00.000-04:00

Preface: I started this draft on February 2nd. Today is May 14th. That's just depressing. Also, as a caveat to the .2 males that read my blog - I'm about to talk about boobs (and not in a fun way) and periods.

If you know me well, then you know this about me: Often times I am thinking about something that's too inappropriate to share out loud. Sometimes I want so desperately to share my random musings on Facebook or Twitter (Twitter gets them more often - not many of my 'people' follow me Twits), but I just can't bring myself to subject the general public. But I can sure share them on my blog! Don't judge me. Here are a few of the totally inappropriate things that run circles inside my brain:

A runny nose is a lot like breastfeeding boobies. One side always producing more than the other.

You know you're a breastfeeding mom when in lieu of tampons, you carry breast pads in your purse.

You know you're a breastfeeding mom when your boobs are never, EVER the same size. And we're talking, one is totally encroaching on the others personal space spacee different. Or as Husband said, Big and Bigger.

Much like last busy season, I am sitting here with my jeans unbuttoned (on a Saturday). Except this time I'm not pregnant.

Since we're on the topic, let's talk breastfeeding:

I'm still nursing (BOOM!). I love it. I never thought I would love it as much as I do. When Liam weans, I'm convinced it'll be harder for me than it will be for him (yes, you read that right - I don't have any plans to force wean... but we'll revisit that at a later date). During busy season, I would be at work for 12 to 14 hours, during which I would pump three times. I would come home in time to nurse Liam before bed and then work from home. Two words: pumping sucks. Currently, I pump twice at work.

At the onset of busy season, my supply was still far above what Liam needed. As the weeks passed, it slowly began to regulate and decrease. It never dipped below Liam's consumption, but it hovered right at consumption.

I got my first "real" period in April. I was really hoping for more than seven months without, thanks to the nursing. Your period is that friend that you tolerate because you've known them since elementary school, but you have nothing but the oxygen you breath in common. It had been since November 2009, and I was none too happy to see my old pal again. I noticed a couples days before her arrival that my milk supply majorly wained. Hello panic mode. And thank you, Google. I took to the interweb and researched my heart out. Somewhat common. But the return of my period really put a cramp (ha!) on my milk supply (not to mention my mood, my back, and my uterus).

But I swear, post-real period my supply never returned to it's former glory. I'm still able to match consumption, but just barely. This is Liam's current schedule:

Nurse in the a.m. before work/daycare (I usually pump a few ounces before nursing)
Two 8-ounce bottles at daycare (I pump twice at work)
Maybe nurse right after work - it depends on when he had his last bottle at daycare
Nurse before bed

Liam also has a yogurt for breakfast, 6.5 ounces of veg for lunch, and 4 ounces of meat/veg and 4 ounces of fruit for dinner.

Lately, I feel like my milk supply has continued to decrease. The decrease is very gradual, but it's there. I can't help but feel like my body is failing me. I'm having a hard time keeping my calorie consumption high enough (forcing yourself to eat isn't as fun as you'd think), and I've also started running. I'm sure neither of those help the situation. I pep-talk my body by saying, "I just need four more months. Just four!" Thankfully, we have 1200+ ounces in a deep freeze; but I never wanted to be in a situation to need it.

Any suggestions for jump-starting my supply?

I do have to say - running now versus four months ago is MUCH less painful. The girls don't fill-up nearly as fast, so I don't feel the need to duct tape those puppies down.

Oh, and Liam bit me for the first time last week. And it HURT. I might have screamed a little, which of course surprised/terrified Liam. Maybe that will deter him from doing it again?

Remember me?

2011-03-07T08:03:00.000-05:00

I am officially the worst.blogger.ever. Don't get too excited - I'm posting this and then disappearing into the wild world of taxation until April 19th (don't EVEN get me started on the three extra days of busy season). I desperately miss rambling to no one about nothing in particular, but my priorities are currently aligned like so: (1) make sure Liam is fed, (2) work, (3) Husband (marriage status: on hold. DEPRESSING), (4) work, (5) laundry, clean, make Liam's food, (6) work, (7) sleep... and after about five more works, (13) blog. So sad.

As a quick update, here's the latest with Liam:

(1) We started pureed foods!!! He currently loves: apples, pears, bananas, blueberries, squash, carrots, and sweet potatoes. Weird that he only likes orange veggies, right?

(2) Pureed foods = man poops for Liam. I honestly miss the mustard days (breastfeeding mommies, you know just what I'm talking about!). The first man poop signified leaving his baby stage behind. I was NOT ready.

(3) Liam is rolling over! He rolled-over for the first time about six weeks ago. He'd roll over and then screech and scream because he couldn't go anywhere. Now he has figured about how to inchworm his way forward, but he still screeches and screams along the way.

(4) Liam is sitting up unassisted! For a little while, at least. Eventually, he topples sideways.

(5) It's official: nothing is safe from his grasp anymore. Going out to dinner has become increasingly difficult and utterly entertaining!

(6) Liam is a FLIRT, and he is still completely comfortable with strangers. Good thing he doesn't like candy yet.

(7) He started sleeping on his side about a month ago. And he loves to snuggle up to Mommy or Daddy, put his hand on one of our faces, and fall asleep. I DIE.

(8) Liam slept in our bed with us for the first time this weekend. He woke-up at 5:45 am on Sunday, ate, and then the three of us snuggled back into our bed. Husband and I didn't get much sleep (SOMEONE is a wiggle worm), but Liam slept like a champ. When he woke-up he was clearly excited to be in bed with us. He was rolling back and worth like, "Oh, hey, Mom." "Oh, hi, Dad!" "MOMMY!" "DADDY!"

(9) We are teething, but no teeth yet. He's a drool monster. Everything goes straight to his mouth (I am officially that mom with sani-wipes that wipes-down everything in sight). We can see the shape of his lower teeth through his gums, so I think we're close.

(10) So far we've endured RSV and strep. Next stop: a totally HEALTHY baby. I am speaking it into existence (Hey, God, are you listening?!?).

(11) Every single day I fall more in love with that kid.

See you in 42 days, friends!

Respiratory Something Virus

2011-01-08T10:17:00.000-05:00

That's what husband and I called it for a few days before we finally looked-up the pronuciation guide online. Resiratory SIN-SI-SHUL (Syncytial) Virus put my sweet boy threw the ringer. After a week and a half in daycare, Liam got sick. I was prepared for runny noses, but I was NOT prepared for this.

It started with a small cough on Tuesday morning. When he got home from daycare, the cough had turned wet (that's the only way I can think to describe it). When I was burping him that night, and I heard/felt a vibration in his chest. Knowing better than to mess with the lungs (especially when those longs are 13 weeks old), we decided to take L to the pediatrician the next morning (by we, I mean Husband was on daddy duty that day). That night he coughed and snotted, coughed and snotted.

Following directions, Husband turned-off his phone while he was with the pediatrician (most of us would have turned our phone to vibrate, I'm just saying). After an hour and a half at the Peds, and after getting a million panicked phone calls and texts from me, Husband finally calls me with the news. RSV. To which I said, "Whaaa?"

The Peds sent us home with a nebulizer and instructions of what to watch-out for. The next couple days of my life consisted of watching Liam breathe, listening to him breathe, and trying to watch him breathe through our video monitor (which is really hard, by the way). More often than not, he was wheezing when he breathed. If we weren't using the nebulizer (which was every four hours when he was awake), we were sucking snot out of his nose. Liam was remarkably cooperative with the nebulizer. Each treatment took about 11 minutes. By minute 9, his attention span would wane and one of us would dangle a toy in front of him or dance around like an idiot to keep him from melting down. A couple of times, he had a meltdown anyway. It broke my heart to see him so upset, but I figured he was taking-in extra medicine with all the wailing. Worse than the nebulizer was the snot by day three. He was SO snotty. Half the time he couldn't breathe out of his nose unless we used the bulb (my super technical term for it). After a few days, his nose was so raw that he'd scream when we used it. It was awful. If we didn't use it, he couldn't breathe. If we did use it, he screamed.

Grammy trying to distract him.

After two nebulizer treatments on Saturday, he was still wheezing (the treatments usually made the wheezing go away). It also looked like he was working breathe. We called the on-call nurse, who had the on-call doctor call us. After five minutes of conversation, the doctor said, "I hate to do this to you, but I think you should go to the emergency room." My heart has never hurt so badly in my life. We got ourselves pulled-together, and headed to St. Mary's. I guess they don't mess-around with babies because we didn't have to wait (as in, we never even had a chance to sit down). After three hours in Peds (they really did call it Peds. I felt like I was inside Grey's Anatomy. Minus all the sex and drama), lots of smiling and talking to the nurses and doctors, lots of crying because he was super tired by couldn't call asleep, and lots of refusing to eat because he was too tired, Liam was discharged. We were now doing the nebulizer every two to four hours AROUND THE CLOCK.

FINALLY fell alseep

I don't know if you've ever heard a nebulizer, but it's loud. The Peds doc said we could do the night treatments while he was sleeping (just hold it over him face). Right. We'd turn-on the machine and Liam would immediately startle awake. Who needs sleep anyway.
RSV is very contagious, so we obviously had to keep him out of daycare. I worked from home some, Husband stayed home some, and Liam's Grammy (my mom) watched him some. Between the three of us, we were able to keep him out of daycare through to Christmas. And Husband was off the entire week after Christmas.

By the Thursday before Christmas we were finally noticing some positive changes. By Sunday we were cutting back the nebulizer treatments. By the next Thursday his appetite returned (and we actually think he was in a growth spurt - 7 to 8 ounce bottles every time he ate), we didn't need to use the bulb, we weren't using the nebulizer, and we got our amiable kid back.

Throughout this whole ordeal, Liam remained remarkably happy. It was amazing. Through all the snot, he'd still smile. After a coughing fit he would immediately start talking. He'd COUGH, COUGH, COUUUUGH, and go "UUUURGH!!!" in the cutest little 14-week old voice. I'm so proud of how he handled it. And I'm proud of how Husband and I handled it. We leaned on each other, and we survived.

Let me leave you with this: Being a parent is NO JOKE. You start worrying the second you find-out you're pregnant, and it only gets worse after they're born. But there is nothing like it.

So glad to have this kid back to normal!

Wait, It's 2011?!?!

2011-01-08T09:46:00.000-05:00

Wasn't the world supposed to end 11 years ago? Boy am I glad it didn't.

There are a lot of New Years resolution posts circulating the blog world. In the past, I've never been much of a resolution person. When I was in high school I'd make a resolution (or ten) for something impossibly attainable for no reason other than to make a resolution because everyone else was. It's been years since I've made one.

There's something about being a mom that changes you. Not in a "I gave birth to a baby, and my new name is Mom" kind of a way. We're talking alters you to the core kind of a change. I want to BE better. I want to LIVE better. I have a big reason to do everything better. Well, two. Which added together equal one family.

In the spirit of being better, I've (we've) decided to make a few resolutions this year. And I use "resolutions" loosely. These are more like goals. I won't hate myself if I haven't achieved them in 365. These are aspirations of being BETTER. For him, him, and Him. Oh, and for me.

Family goal:

No fast food for a year. We eat fast food about once a month, so this shouldn't be too hard. The point of this for us is to make ourselves choose healthy, more real options, even when we're in a hurry. I want fast food to be a MAJOR treat for Liam, not something we grab every Saturday when we're out running errands.

Personal goals:

Make taking care of myself a priority. I haven't been exercising. I have been eating all that well. I haven't been taking time to just see and be, read a book, just tune out. I haven't gone shopping for clothes that fit me and make me feel good. As much as I want to spend every waking second in my son's presence, I HAVE to do things for myself. For both of our sakes. Also, I miss running. But I miss RUNNING. Not this Couch to 5K crap I have to do right now. But to get back to the running I love, I have to get through the first weeks of getting back into shape. I also need to get a REALLY good sports bra. I'm thinking the Ta Ta Tamer.

Take more pictures of our life and make sure that I'm in them. I'm one of those people who loves to take pictures when we're home, but I forget to take pictures when we're with family or out doing something fun. Since I'm always taking pictures, I'm rarely in them. I don't want to look-back in 18 years and realize that I was in five pictures a year.

Find a church home. We want to find our "fit." Somewhere look forward to going every weekend. Part of this goal is to also get in the church habit. I want my son to grow-up going to church, participating in Sunday school, and kids choir. Those are some of my fondest memories from my childhood.

Make new friends. Making new friends is hard for me. I'm a naturally shy person. But we don't know many people with kids, and we want play dates and sleep overs (not for us, Silly, for Liam).

Blog more. I miss my blog. Just saying that makes me feel sad. It has been a source of such joy for me since it's inception (good movie, by the way). But it's hard to make time for it when you have a household to run, a family to feed, a job, and two great guys to spend time with. This goal will be hardest over the next three and a half months (during busy season), but hopefully I can do it. Even if I just do a picture dump. Or bullet points about our week.

Husband's goal:

Take more pictures. For Husband, life gets in the way of taking pictures every day. It's his passion, so this year he decided to make it a priority.

Do you think the Big Guy would be willing to add a few extra hours to every day? I'll let you know what he says.

3 Months Old

2010-12-25T22:12:00.002-05:00

Nicknames: LiYUM, Booger, Booger Butt, Little Man, Handsome Man, Bubba, Boogs, Mister Man

Things I Could Do Without: Daddy and I can't figure-out anything we could do without. Daddy just said, "Month three was a good month." I agree!

Item/Toy We Love The Most: Your plug (pacifier). It saves us on a daily basis. When you're hungry, we can buy a few more minutes of time. When you're sleepy, it knocks you out quickly. Your daddy, plug, and I make a good team!

Item/Toy You Love The Most: Your hands. You really discovered your hands this month. One will catch your gaze, and you just stare at it. And then your eyes follow it as you bring it to your mouth, making your eyes cross. If you drop your plug, your fingers/hand is a worthy stand-in. Sometimes you'll make me think you're hungry, tired, or want your plug when really you just want to suck on your hands.

Thing I’m Loving Most Right Now: I love how snuggly you are when you just wake-up. You rest your head on my chest and are so content. And you let-out the sweetest, sleepiest coos. I could live in those moments for a lifetime. Also, I love the smile you give me when I come to get your after a nap. I lean over the railing of your crib and say, "Hey, Handsome." You flash the most swoon-worthy smile. My heart melts into a big puddle at my feet.

General:

Mommy went back to work this month, and you went to daycare. You love Mrs. Lois and Mrs. Jackie. You didn't sleep much at daycare the first week, and you would fall asleep super early at home. Dropping you off in the morning is hardest thing Mommy does all day.

This month you started sleeping through the night! Well, most of the time. The week before I went back to work you started to extend your night time rest. The first time you slept 6+ hours I panicked, jumped up, and made sure you were still breathing. You were. In fact, you were snoring!

Droll, oh the drool. You are a drooling fool!

You love to have your picture taken. When a camera is in your face, you calmly stare into the lens. You are fascinated.

You love any toy that makes noise. Whether it squeaks, rattles, or talks, you LOVE it.

When you take a bottle, you regularly suck-down 5 ounces (which is the size of the bottles we have). It may be time to get bigger bottles!

This month you really started to nice the Henrik and Fiona (the dogs). You watch them as they walk by and you'll stare at them if they're sitting near you. They love you so much! Especially Henrik. He's quietly protective, always wanting to be where you are.

You LOVE to lay and stretch-out. When we put you on the floor you start kicking and talking.

We moved your pack n' play out of our bedroom. Your swing, however, remains.

For comparison:

What I've Learned

2010-12-13T20:48:00.001-05:00

Being a parent has taught me MANY things. Some sweet. Some funny. Some gross. All awesome.

1. This Halloween I noticed just how slutty 80% of the costumes are.

2. I'm more germ conscious, especially in public places. Gross!
a. On a similar note, instant hand sanitizer WILL dry out your cuticles.

3. My hunger and need to pee can wait, as long as it needs to.

4. You'd be amazed how quickly you can adjust to far less sleep.

5. When you give you son a kiss and he opens his mouth and deposits a mouth-full of saliva in your mouth, it's okay. You got a KISS. Come ON. Open mouth kisses from babies are the BEST.

6. RELAX.

7. I am stronger than I've ever given myself credit for.

8. I would do anything, ANYTHING for my son. Unspeakable ferocity.

9. Poo on your finger? Meh. Wipe it on your pajama pants in a pinch.

10. Poly-Vi-Sol STAINS EVERYTHING.

11. Who our real friends are.

12. Nothing cures a bad day like a laughing, smiling baby.

13. Waking-up a few times a night isn't hard when you have such a good reason for doing so.

14. Where I used to say never, I could TOTALLY be a SAHM.

15. Daycare is painful.

16. Breastfed poo DOES stink.
17. There's nothing like it!

And yes, I'm aware that I've ended a few of these in prepositions. Refer to #6.

Your (our) daily dose:

Daycare, Week 1

2010-12-09T08:20:00.000-05:00

Sunday night, I was prepared for a sleepless night. I just KNEW my mind would be racing counterclockwise around an oval track (SHOO-WEE!). Much to my surprise, sleep came easily. I suppose I have a three month-old to thank for that. Liam slept for 8 hours straight that night, but woke-up at 4:00 am. My alarm was set for 5:30 am. The whole “wake, change, nurse, back to sleep” process takes roughly an hour, so I was up for the day. First thought, gross. Can’t I just crawl back into bed? No, Betsy, you can’t. Instead, I went about my get ready routine that had been on the shelf for 12 weeks. Shower, make-up, hair. Here’s where it deviates… You have to get dressed last because you’re bound to get baby goo on you. So it went: Pack pump bag. Pack bottles for Liam, fill-out daycare report card. Wake-up baby. Change baby. Dress baby. Kiss, snuggle, love, hug, laugh with, and talk to baby. Feed baby. Dress myself. And get us out the door.
Luckily, I have an amazing husband who will take all my bags out to the car and start it (it’s been COLD here) before he leaves for work (which is about 10 minutes before Liam and I leave). Love him.

Overall, the morning of daycare 1 was uneventful. Husband did the drop-off with me. We moral supported each other. I started to get upset when we were walking to the nursery, but I checked my emotions at the door as best I could. After we said goodbye to him, one of the sweet daycare ladies, Miss Jackie (the ladies who work in the nursery are in the 70s, we’d guess), snatched him up, took him to a glider, and snuggled him to pieces. She knew all we wanted to see was him being loved. She’d obviously done the “first time drop-off” a few times.

My day at work passed rather quickly. I spent my time catching-up on emails and work, and catching-up with people. Much like the end of pregnancy, I was asked the same three questions over and over. This time, though, I didn’t mind. I could talk about that kid ALL DAY LONG. I called daycare twice. Each time settled my anxiety and quieted my racing mind.

Let me tell you – I have NEVER been so excited to go home in my entire life. I was trying to think of a way to describe it. ‘Tis the season, I kept coming back to this: Going home to your baby after being apart all day is like the feeling a five year-old experiences on Christmas Eve night… knowing something magical is about to happen. The anticipation mounts, and I start clock watching. About 30 minutes before I leave, I catch myself smiling every time I think about being home. When I walk to my car, I’m smiling. I’m smiling as I drive. I rush out of my car (smiling, duh!), drop my stuff (literally), and bound up the stairs. When I see that big head my world screeches to a stop (Husband is usually cuddling Liam in the glider, which faces away from the bedroom door). When I drop my face to his level, and say, “Heeeey, buddy,” I was rewarded with the BIGGEST smile. My heart melts, my breath catches in my chest, and my world resets on its axis. It was like I had just crept down the stairs and seen the pile of presents Santa had left for me under our glowing Christmas tree. It was magical. MAGICAL.

Daycare Day 2 and 3 passed much like Day 1, except they were harder. For Day 1, I had just spent all of Sunday with him so we hadn’t really been apart. By Day 3, I was sad. I was lonely. I missed him so much it felt like little pieces of my heart were crumbling. But again, each time I arrived home I was rewarded with a smile that reset me to “happy.”

Each morning, Liam has woken-up happy as can be and TALK-A-TIVE. He’s so tired when he gets home from daycare (he’s adjusting to sleeping through all the commotion – and by adjusting I mean not sleeping much at all) that he usually nurses and then falls asleep in our arms. He’ll wake-up anywhere from 30 minutes to 2 hours later, MAYBE stay up for a little while, nurse, and the he’s down for the night. Since we don’t get to catch-up at night, in the morning he wants to tell me ALL about his day. Here I am trying to nurse him, and he keeps rolling onto his back and talking my ear off. It would be completely frustrating if it wasn’t SO FLIPPING CUTE. So we just talk. He tells me about his day, the cute girl who shares his birthday, Miss Jackie and Miss Lois. I tell him how much I love him, how much I’ve missed him, and that I’m proud of how well he’s doing. I live for those moments. I used to get them all day every day. Now that I don’t, I savor them. I roll them around slowly inside my heart, each one leaving a permanent mark so I can reach down and munch on it when I’m missing him the most.

Someone at work asked me “how it was.” I assumed he meant how it was going being apart from Liam. When I began to tell him, he said, “No. How is it being a parent?” All I could do was smile. He said, “There aren’t words, are there? It’s magical. And you can’t grasp it until you feel it yourself.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

And I officially live for the weekends now.

So you (we) can get your fix:

Two Month Check-Up (a month late)

2010-12-07T13:10:00.000-05:00

I'm back at work now (SAD FACE). That means two (of many) things: (1) I don't get to spend all day with the cutest blessing in the world and (2) I have a lunch hour, which means time to blog. Posts have been sparse of as late. When Liam was awake, I'd much rather be hanging out with him (sorry, Followers!). And when he was sleeping there was laundry, cleaning, cooking, and like to tackle. So here's a snipet about his two month appointment, a little late :)

Liam had his two month appointment on November 18th. Driving to the appointment, I remember thinking, "TWO MONTHS?!?! Where has time gone?" And look at me now - 12 weeks, and I'm huddled in my cubicle at work.

I went solo on this trip. When I'm alone, I really appreciate how much easier it is to have a wingman. Mainly to help carry stuff. At two months, his head control doesn't allow me to carry him with one arm, so I took the carseat. And a diaper bag. And myself. Getting in wasn't the problem - everything was nicely packed away. It was getting around once in and leaving that was a bear. Liam's sweet Pediatrican carried the carseat twice for me. Note to self: don't wear calf height Uggs when your kid has to get shots, you'll sweat your feet off.

First up was nakkey Liam and the scale. 14 pounds, 8 ounces. Hello chunker! Liam got a few cat calls from other mothers as we walked to the scale. Cutest moobies (that's man boobies for those of you who aren't down with the lingo) EVER. After the scale, he was measured. 24 1/2 inches. He was 97th percentile for weight and 95th percentile for height.

The pediatrician poked and proded, and Liam just watched him intently. I feel so blessed to have such a happy baby. For once, he didn't poop when his temperature was taken. Woop! And no blow out and related funny story. Thanks, Bud!

And then came the shots. Five of them. FIVE. Three in one leg and two in the other. It was awful. The nurse was done in less than a minute, but Liam SCREAMED. My mommy heart burst into a million pieces. I quickly mended it with Elmer's and soothed and shooshed until he calmed down. Thankfully, he fell asleep on the car ride home (that is after he screamed himself silly and sleepy). When we got home, however, he woke-up and started SCREAMING again. He was crying and screaming so hard at one point that he wasn't making any noise. Poor guy was in some serious pain. The pediatrician said I could give him Children's Tylenol. I had Little Fevers. I'm no doctor, so I wanted to make sure they were the same thing. Two calls to my mom. THREE calls to the pediatrician's office, the phone was BUSY EACH TIME. Frantic searching for my SIL's work number (she's a pharmcist), not easy to find online. I finally get her number, call, and find out they are the same thing. All of this is happening while Liam is either in my arms or laying on the bed screaming. He was on the bed because I couldn't hear anything on the phone or I was about to burst into tears and needed to walk away. When I talked to SIL, my voice was quivering and wavering like a leaf in the fall in 25 mph winds. After the medicine, he calmed down, ate, and SLEPT. He got medicine every four to six hours until the next afternoon. After the intial meltdown, he was great. TROOPER!

To compare:

Here's a tasty dose of L Bean for your viewing pleasure:

2 Months Old

2010-12-02T14:03:00.000-05:00

Nicknames: Li, LiYUM, Booger, Booger Butt, Little Man, Handsome Man, Bubba, Boogs, Mister Man

Things I Could Do Without: Sometimes you sleep 4 hours at a time, but most of the time you sleep 2 1/2 to 3 hours at a time at night. I am REALLY hoping you extend your nighttime snoozes by the time I go back to work. If we don't catch you (and put you down) before you get overly tired, you FIGHT sleep. Sometimes it takes HOURS to get you to fall asleep.

Item/Toy We Love The Most: The swing is still our savior. You love to look at the stars that light-up and swirl around the room. If we put you in the swing and don't turn-on the stars, you stare at the globe in anticipation. So cute. Not only does the swing help you fall asleep when you're fighting it, but it helps you to stay asleep longer. THANK YOU for that, Swing.

Item/Toy You Love The Most: You still love your play mat. But recently, you've really fallen in love with your animal-themed bouncy seat. It has three plastic animals that dangle over your head, one of which plays music when you pull the attached string. You LOVE the music. We are so ready for you to be able to pull the string yourself so we don't have to pull it every 20 seconds. Much like the stars on your swing, you look at the animals in anticipation when the music stops.

Things I’m Loving Most Right Now: Your smile. Oh my gosh. Your smile melts my heart. You are such a smiley little baby. When I lean-down to pick you up from your crib (which is really a pack n play that's in our room) and say, "Hey, handsome," you smile so big at me. When you take a long nap during the day, I find myself missing you and wishing you would just wake-up already!

General:

You've started to rub your eyes when you get tired. It is absolutely adorable. It's been so fun to see you gain more control over your arms/hands. I feel like I trim your nails constantly; if I don't, you'll maul your face. Or Daddy's - you scratched him GOOD on his neck.

A week ago your Grammy was trying to get you to fall asleep by swinging you in her arms. Twice you closed your eyes and fell asleep and then WHAM, you opened your eyes. Your poor Grammy kept saying, "Why does he do that?! He was ASLEEP!"

You only accept your pacifier if (1) you're sleepy and trying to fall asleep or (2) you're hungry. We didn't even offer you a pacifer until you were about three weeks old. When we did finally offer it to you, we did so with trepidation. First of all, we really wanted breastfeeding to go well so we wanted to prevent nipple confusion. Second, we didn't want you to end-up one of those 18-month olds running around the house with a pacifier in your mouth at all times. So it has worked-out perfectly that you only want it under certain circumstances.

At your Daddy's soccer game this past weekend, you were sitting on my lap trying to poop (have I mentioned how funny you are when you try to poop? We laugh and say you get greedy with your poops because you'll be sitting there grunting away when you've already recently pooped). And poop you did! I went to change you in your stroller, and I noticed poop on the FRONT of your onesie. That's the thing about pooping when you're sitting - it all comes FORWARD. You ended-up getting poop in your belly button. Very impressive, Little Man.

You got your first cold last week (and you still have it). Even though you clearly don't feel 100%, you are still as smiley as ever.

We're still waiting for that first baby laugh. We can't wait!

I'm convinced that you'll be left-handed. We'll see if my theory pans-out.

We love to prop you up on our legs and sing pat-a-cake with you. We clap your hands, and you LOVE it. You smile so big, and I can tell you want to let out a big laugh. I don't know what it is about that song, but it's the only one you react to so happily.

Sometimes when you're nursing you'll disconnect, look-up at me, and smile so big. It's a sheepish little grin. Love it.

Your eyes are still blue. So blue. When I was pregnant with you, your Daddy and I always wondered what color your eyes would be. I have dark brown eyes, so we thought for sure the brown would beat-out the blue. Secretly, we wanted you to have big blue eyes. As the weeks passed, your eyes got more and more blue. You're going to be a heart breaker!

You grew-out of your newborn sized clothes by two weeks. At two months, you're wearing three month clothes, but some of them are getting small, especially in the arms. A few onesies are like three quarter sleeves! We think you'll be in six-month clothes by three months old. You're going to be TALL, just like your Mommy and Daddy.

Your head control is AWESOME! Each day, you spend time in your Bumbo seat and sitting up in our laps. You're able to keep your head up with little help, and you can turn your head to follow objects without much support.

For comparison:

The easiest way to see the difference is compare the size of the month sticker. Wowzer!

Bits + Pieces

2010-11-12T11:00:00.000-05:00

1. My baby snores. We're talking SNORES. And he has since birth. How awesome is that?!

2. This week Liam stuck to the same schedule for three days in a row. And then he got sick and WHAM, we're scheduleless.

3. Even though it's over three weeks away, I am consumed by the fact that I will be separated from my favorite person in the world (Husband being a close second) on an almost daily basis. Any idea how hard it's going to be to say goodbye to this face? I now know that I could totally be a SAHM.

4. Liam smiles all of the time, and it melts my heart each time. He smiles the biggest when we sing pat-a-cake and clap his hands together. I CANNOT wait for that first laugh.

5. I now realize how hard it is to make time/room for working out when there's a baby around. Sure, I can take him in the jog stroller, but when do I shower? Sure, I can put him in his swing while I shower, but he'll probably be screaming by the time I get out.

6. I still haven't been apart from him, and I'm not looking forward to the first time (whenever that is).

7. I still have that sweet tooth that developed during pregnancy. Much to my chagrin.

8. My dad and his family are coming to town Thanksgiving, and we are SO excited. My step mom and half siblings haven't met Liam yet, so it's going to be a good time!

9. Liam has his two-month appointment next week and shots are on the schedule. Not excited. I'm hoping our Ped will start charting his growth and give us some percentiles. Very excited.

10. Being a mom is so much better than I ever imagined.

My Road to Recovery

2010-11-05T20:45:00.000-04:00

Warning: Boys, you may want to steer clear of this one. I'm just sayin'.

For me, recovery was far worse than labor and delivery. When I was in labor, I found sanity and relief in the fact that it would END and it would end soon. With recovery, there's no telling when I'll be back to normal. And who's to say that I'll ever feel normal again. Maybe I'll have to redefine my normal.

The fluids, oh the fluids. I spent the first week and a half wearing the mesh panties that hospital gave me (they were so comfortable. I wish it was appropriate to wear them all of the time) and a GIANT maxi-pad. Every time I would nurse, my uterus would contract and cramp, and I would bleed. That's just how it goes. Over the weeks, I slowly stepped down the size of the pad. I'm a tampon girl, so wearing a pad was awful (although the thought of a tampon right now makes me shudder). I was also given a steroid foam to help with general healing of my lady bits. For me, putting a pad soaked in witch hazel on the maxi-pad was really soothing. My bleeding really slowed by four weeks, and it ended by the end of five weeks. I was SO glad to see the pads go. G-R-O-S-S.

Luckily, I didn't tear. I am so thankful for that. I didn't tear because my doctor massaged my perineum for an hour. And by massaged, I mean he stretched it. At one point he told me that I would be screaming from what he was doing if I didn't have the epidural. I remember him trying to make room for Liam's head by putting both of his hands ALL THE WAY in my lady bits. Ouch. All of that stretching left me bruised and battered. For the first two weeks of Liam's life, I went from the bed to the glider to nurse and back to the bed. Thankfully Liam only ate and slept at that point, but I missed-out on really enjoying the first two to three weeks at home with my son. But I'm not exaggerating when I say I couldn't sit down. When I could finally sit (on the couch and at the kitchen table), I couldn't sit without a pillow. Even in the glider (which has a cushion) I used a pillow. It took me four weeks to get rid of the pillow. After that, I avoided hard surfaces as much as possible or I would sit more on one side of my butt. Today, I am sore at the end of the day. It's manageable, and more annoying than anything. At my appointment two weeks ago, my doctor said it can take up to 12 weeks to really start feeling good, and I totally believe him.

Along with my perineum, my right labia fell victim to delivery. We're not entirely sure how it happened because everything happened so fast, but we think it got caught-up in the vacuum. Sitting forward HURT. The labia went beyond uncomfortable and into painful. It would also bleed. The only comfortable position for me to sleep was on my side (laying on my back hurt my butt until about week five and laying on my baby feeding boobies still isn't an option), but I HAD to have a pillow between my legs. The pressure on my labia without the pillow was terrible. I didn't know this until my doctors appointment at five weeks postpartum, but nursing is an estrogen suppressant. And estrogen is what heals the wreckage that is your lady bits. So if you nurse, you heal slower. My doctor barely moved my labia, and I was squirming and saying, "Ouch, ow, ow ow." He sent me home with an estrogen cream to apply at night. I've been doing it for two weeks now, and it has made a HUGE difference. I actually feel like my labia is healing. I am so thankful for that, because I was worried that I would be something that I'd have to deal with for a long time.

Other than the lady bits issues, I was exhausted for the first two weeks. Not sleepy tired, but just physically exhausted. But I suppose that's to be expected with a new baby at home :)

For me, recovery sucked. I loved being pregnant, and I love being a mom. I even love having a newborn around who wakes-up every two to three hours. For those reasons, I definitely want more children. But to be honest, recovering again terrifies me. In the end, it's completely worth it. And maybe next time the birth won't be so traumatic and recovery won't be so hard. It's definitely not enough to keep me away from having a second... eventually.

Birth Story: Part V

2010-11-03T19:34:00.001-04:00

This post should probably come with a warning: It's TMI.

First, let me say this: Pushing sucked. SUCKED for me. I had read and been told that pushing brought some relief to the pain and pressure. LIES. At least it didn't for me. When I finally got to 10 cm, I was feeling a lot of pressure in my butt. The pressure doesn't come in your lady bits, it literally comes in your "bottom," as the PC nurses and doctors say. The pressure isn't painful, but it sure is annoying and uncomfortable.

Second: Epidurals are great because they take away the pain. That is until your Nurse and Doctor decide to TURN IT DOWN. Yeah, they don't tell you that in the birth classes. Many doctors like to turn down or turn OFF the epidural to create more urgency for the mother to push. NOT COOL. At one point, DES looked at me and literally said, "Since it's you, I'm being nice and I haven't turned it off yet." So not cool. With the epidural almost turned off, things started to hurt, even the pressure.

By the time I started to push, I was exhausted. I hadn't eaten anything since the afternoon before. I don't know about you, but I'm that person that gets light-headed and weak after four or five hours without food. So I was hurting for some sugar/calories. I pushed in an inclined position on my back. When I started to feel the pressure/pain of each contraction, DES wanted me to lift my head and shoulders off the bed, put my chin to my chest, pull my legs back with my hands, and push. Husband was holding the right leg and Awesome Nurse Pam was on the left. I pushed three times for 10 seconds during contraction, taking one deep breath in between each push. With my second, I will refuse to pull-back on my legs on my own. I was pulling back so hard that my arms would start to shake. I feel like all of my energy and concentration was wasted on the wrong action. Next time, I'll use the Nurse and Husband ONLY to bear-down against.

For whatever reason, I couldn't focus on pushing in the correct area. In short, I wasn't a very good pusher. I was a quiet, focused laborer, but a terrible pusher. Well, maybe terrible is a strong word. I wasn't very skilled. I only had a handful of pushes that were REALLY concentrated in the right area. Also in hindsight, I don't know if pushing on my back was the best position for me. Maybe laying on my side or squatting would have been better. With the epidural, however, I was limited to my back.

Pushing was also hard because Liam was big. He weighed over 8 pounds, and he had a big head (at 37 weeks, his head was measuring 42 weeks. YEAH. Feel sorry for me). And I'm not the biggest/widest person in the world. DES kept saying that I only needed to get him 1 cm further to get him past my pelvic bone and then he'd be free! I just couldn't do it. At one point, ANP told me to reach down and feel his head. She kept saying, "It's right there, it's right there. Come on Betsy!" I had zero interest. She wanted me to be motivated by the fact that he was so close. After I continued to refuse, Liam continued to be stuck, and Liam's heart rate continued to drop with each contraction, she finally grabbed my hand and put it on his head. It felt wet and mushy. Feeling his head didn't do anything for my motivation. I was exhausted, I was in pain, and I wanted him OUT.

And then he his my perineum. HOLY CRAP. It hurt. It hurt so badly. I can't even explain the pain. This is when I started screaming. Literally. I'd been SO quiet and focused through the entire experience, until the last five minutes of pushing. I remember DES tell ANP to get the vacuum. I'm pushing and screaming and making all sorts of animal noises. I kept repeating, "GET HIM OUT. GET HIM OUT NOW." I was done. I was exhausted, frustrated, in pain, and now I was scared. Things were getting serious, fast. DES told me that during the next contraction he wanted me to take the oxygen mask off and push until he told me to stop. He was going to use the vacuum to get Liam out. I wasn't getting the job done, and his heart rate was getting really low. At this point, I shut my eyes, and I shut them TIGHT. I knew I didn't want to see what was about to happen. It would scare/traumatize me. I didn't see any of it, but I sure felt it.

It all happened so fast. The contraction came, and I bared-down. I felt DES get the vacuum in place, and I felt him pull. The feeling of Liam coming out is hard to explain. I swear I felt gushing fluid, but I'm not sure because my eyes were closed. It hurt. It hurts bunches. It felt like it took forever for him to get out. And all the while I'm screaming (I swear it was like something from a movie. I just couldn't control it. I wouldn't be a very good Scientologist). When he was out, I opened my eyes. DES was holding him upside down and suctioning his mouth and nose. Husband got really emotional, but I was really out of it. My brain and heart couldn't connect with what had just happened (read: my son was just born!). Liam wasn't crying, and he looked purple. I kept saying, "He needs to cry. He's not crying. He just needs to cry." The nurses (more nurses came to investigate when they heard my screaming. I wish I was joking, but I'm being totally serious) whisked him away to the warming station to work their magic, and he finally cried after what felt like an eternity. Really it was just 10 to 15 seconds. It took me a while to bond with Liam and the fact that I'd just given birth because I didn't get to hold him right away. I had dreamt of Liam being born and put on my chest immediately. Of Husband cutting the cord. Of him taking his first big breath right there in front of me. But it didn't matter in the end because he was healthy.

I remember asking DES why it still hurt. Oh yeah, the placenta. It didn't take long for me to deliver the placenta, Liam had cleared a path for it. Husband said it was the funniest thing seeing DES holding/tugging on the cord that was hanging out of my lady bits.

After the placenta was out, it STILL hurt. Why!?!?! Oh yeah, I'd just given birth. I guess I expected all of the pain to just go away. Also, the vacuum snagged my right labia and tore it. Yeah, chew on that one, Ladies. It wasn't something that could really be stitched-up either. Thankfully I didn't tear, and I have DES to thank for that. He spent the entire hour+ of pushing stretching my perineum. Husband said at one point he looked down and saw both of DES's hands in my lady bits and he was PULLING down. I was sore for WEEKS from the stretching (I'll detail my recovery in another post), but I am so thankful that I didn't tear.

Eventually, I got to hold Liam and my entire world changed in a millisecond. I will never forget how he looked up at me and just stared when he heard my voice. I was a mom, and I was my son. It doesn't get much better than that.

Breastfeeding (Boys, this may be TMI)

2010-10-30T21:43:00.001-04:00

Before Liam's arrival, I read about breastfeeding. A lot. It was the one thing that I was uber passionate (and excited) about. I HAD to breastfeed. It HAD to go well. I HAD to be as prepared as possible.  If you can do it, breast is best, as they say. It's best for baby and it's best for mom. Did you know that breastfeeding decreases a woman's risk for certain types of cancers? I didn't until our birth class. Just another reason to breastfeed. It also burns extra calories (which believe me, you'll want once that baby is out and the belly and thighs are still there). And um, hi, it's FREE. Formula isn't cheap, friends.

I wanted to be successful at breastfeeding so badly that I was convinced I would fail or struggle. I prayed and prayed. Other than a healthy Liam (and mommy), there wasn't a single thing that I prayed about more. Silly me for letting doubt creep in.

Breastfeeding was amazing from the very beginning. Because of Liam's semi-traumatic entrance into the world, I didn't have a chance to breastfeed for a few hours (he made a trip to the nursery for monitoring instead). Since I was hoping to pop him out and then immediately breastfeed, of course I panicked. I kept telling the nurses that I needed to breastfeed. And I kept asking when I could breastfeed. But for no reason. Not only did Liam latch-on right away, but my milk came in 36 hours after he was born. I woke-up Wednesday night to nurse and noticed that my boobs were suddenly GIGANTIC. Hello milk supply!

For me, the hardest part of breastfeeding initially was finding a position that was comfortable. We brought the Boppy to the hospital, but I quickly learned that it wasn't very supportive. First, it wasn't big enough. Second, it was sturdy enough. As a breastfeeding pillow (at least for us) the Boppy was worthless (as an infant positioner, however, it's awesome!). The lactation consultant at the hospital (LC) recommended the football hold. Eventually, Liam and I got the hang of the football. After a week or so at home, it was clear that Liam had outgrown the football, so we transitioned to the cradle hold.  From the first cradle hold, it was obvious that Liam liked this hold the best. You have to find that works best for you and your babe. And a good pillow certainly helps. We use a hand-me-down pillow that's actually meant for twins. It's big and it's sturdy. It's amazing.

On one of our many trips to Babies R Us, we purchased a breast pump. We got the Medela In Style Advanced. I adore this pump. Since my goal is to breastfeed for at least a year, I will need a dependable, efficient (read: FAST) breast pump for pumping at work. In the hospital, the LC taught me how to set-up and use the pump. I don't remember when I first decided to use the pump, but I knew I wamted a healthy supply in our freezer before I went back to work. Pumping in addition to nursing has tricked my body into producing more milk than Liam needs on a daily basis (technically it's over production. Eventually, and I'm totally dreading the discomfort of this, I'll have to back-off the pumping in addition to nursing). We have a TON of milk in the freezer. By a ton, I mean 300+ ounces. Probably way more than we'll ever need, but it feels so good to have the back-up. If my supply suddenly dries up for whatever reason, we're covered for a few weeks (we're planning to buy a deep freeze this week which will allow the milk to last longer). And did you know that you can donate breast milk? Thank you 19 Kids and Counting for that tid bit. The only down side to pumping is that my boobs fill-up and get uncomfortable at night when Liam goes longer periods into between sessions. Which causes my let down to be STRONG. Like, strong strong. Like, sorry Buddy that was my bad, strong.

Speaking of let downs... that's my only complaint about breastfeeding. I hate the feeling. HATE it.  It's especially strong when I'm full. My mom describes it as a warm tingling, but I describe it more like a warm burning. It doesn't hurt. That's the wrong word. It's mildly uncomfortable. Annoying.

Even though I'm breastfeeding, it is also important that we acclimate Liam to the bottle. A friend told me about the Breastflow bottle. Instead of telling you all about it, I'll let you read for yourself if you're interested. We introduced the bottle at three weeks. Not too early, not too late. Although he had a confused look on his face since Daddy was feeding him, he took to it quickly. I've learned the hard way tha\t feeding him with a bottle doesn't work for me. He just looks at me like, "Um, you have something WAY better to offer. I REFUSE!"   These days we do anywhere from one to three bottles a day, depending on how much time we spend out of the house. I am yet to nurse in public. Makes me nervous! I'm sure it will happen eventually. We need a decent nursing cover first. I pumped in the car on the way home from Carter Mountain last weekend, and I used a blanket. Not easy.

Notice the furrowed eyebrows.

I'm not going to lie, there have been a couple 2 am wake-up calls where I wished we could just add some powder and shake. Overall, though, I've really enjoying breastfeeding. I can't explain the bond I feel with my son when we nurse. He makes the cutest sounds when he nurses. He rests his hands in the sweetest places. And he gets SO excited when he's really hungry, and I'm getting him situated. Even in the middle of the night, I live for the Mommy-Liam time.

Birth Story: Part IV

2010-10-29T11:56:00.001-04:00

When Awesome Nurse Pam arrived for the day shift, so did Dr. Extraordinaire Shaban. I've expressed my love for my doctor before, but I love him even more after L&D Day. At 7 am he walked in with a venti coffee and a smile that could make any girl weak in the knees. He gave me a big hug and told me to hurry up because he's been looking forward to this for a week.

First thing Dr. Extraordinaire Shaban did was check my progress. 5 cm. Woop, half way there! He chit chatted for a few minutes, and then scurried away (to watch my monitor from the nurses station as I would later find out). All the while, Awesome Nurse Pam is coming in and out, checking on me, the monitors, my fluids, my pain level, etc. On a side note: IV fluids suck. As if I wasn't swollen enough from pregnancy, add three or four bags of IV fluid to the mix. I was a WHALE. It took over a week for me to see my ankles again.

Shortly after Dr. Extraordinaire Shaban leaves, Awesome Nurse Pam comes in to discuss an epidural. She asks if I'm ready for it (I'm 6 cm at this point), and I decline. The pain is manageable, and I'm not ready to be confined to the bed. I suggest that she come back in an hour and ask again. Hopefully I would by 7 cm and, and ready for the epi. At this point she informs me that the anesthesiologist is about to go into surgery so it's now or never. By the time he would get out of surgery, I would probably be in transition and it would be too late.

It was a no-brainer to accept the epidural at that point. The thought of transition and pushing without an epidural terrified me. So enter Caterpillar Eyebrows Anesthesiologist (I don't know his real name). When I was pregnant, I thought I would be nervous about the pain involved with an epidural. When you're experiencing contractions every 30 to 90 seconds, the last thing you care about is the pain of getting an epidural. You welcome it to ease the other pain. I sat indian-style in the middle of the bed and leaned against Husband. I couldn't get my back into the correct position, so Caterpillar Eyebrows Anesthesiologist had to try THREE times. That's six needle sticks - three local and three epi tries. To be honest, I don't even remember the pain involved, so it must not have been too bad. Just some burning. Blood makes Husband queasy, so when he saw blood on the anesthesiologist's gloves, it was either sit down or hurl. I remember him starting to lean oddly, and I said something to Awesome Nurse Pam about Husband needing to sit down. So I spent the third and final epi try leaning against ANP.

With the epidural in, Awesome Nurse Pam got me re-situated in bed. Within 15 minutes, I couldn't feel or move anything below my chest. You get a heavy dose in the beginning, but thankfully that wears off. After an hour or so, I could move my legs on my own. Before that, if my legs slid off the pillow ANP had wedged between my legs, I had to ask Husband to move it back. And let me tell you - a limp leg is WAY heavier than you'd think. Personally, I hated the epidural sensation (more on that in a different post). However, I was pain free so that was nice.

At 9:15 am, Dr. Extraordinaire Shaban broke my water. Since I was epiduraled, I didn't feel anything associated with my water being broken. Not even a gush or wetness on the puppy pads I was laying on. I am hoping that with the second one I get to experience my water breaking on its own. Or at least get to feel it when the Doc does it.

Between my water breaking and pushing (heck, even pushing is a little blurry) everything is a blur. Roughly three hours passed in what seemed like seconds. At 10:00 am, I was 8 cm, but could be stretched to 9 cm. At 10:40 am, I was 9 cm. And then I got stuck at 9 cm for over an hour. Twice Awesome Nurse Pam tried to push the remaining lip of my cervix back. If I hadn't been numb, I bet that would have HURT. She was successful the second time. At 8 cm, I started to feel pressure in my pelvis. At first I thought I was feeling pain, so I clicked the epidural button a few times for an extra dose. Within 15 minutes, I was SUPER numb again and really annoyed with myself. Once I realized I was feeling pressure, I made Husband take the button away from me because I WANTED to feel the pressure. I knew the pressure would make me want to push more and harder when the time came. The pressure didn't hurt, but it was definitely uncomfortable. It also didn't make me feel an urgency to push like I had hoped it would.

What I DO remember over the three hours is Dr. Extraordinaire Shaban coming in and out of my room checking on my progress. He wanted to check my cervix every 30 minutes, ANP kept quipping at him to be patient. Him and Awesome Nurse Pam (who had obviously worked together a lot before) kept bickering back and forth. It was seriously entertaining. Every time Liam's heart rate dropped, ANP keep saying he was "trying to show off for us again." I think that was her way of trying to not alarm me. But it was pretty obvious from the unspoken words exchanged between ANP and DES that the situation could turn bad quickly.

Also, my mom came to the hospital to hang out in the room around 10 am. I talked to her on the phone, and I was obvious that she wanted so badly to be there. She didn't want to impose, but I could tell that she NEEDED to be with her daughter. And to be honest, it was so nice having her there. We chit chatted on and off, she talked with DES (he's a family friend), and knitted nervously. Husband and I actually invited her to stay for pushing, but she respectfully declined. She said that Liam's actual birth needed to be a moment between just Husband and me. In hindsight, that was an incredibly unselfish move. I KNOW she would have loved to experience that with us, but she knew how important that moment would be.

When it was time to push, it was clear that DES wanted Liam out NOW. I didn't realize until my head was clear just how close he was to being a c-section baby. At 11:58 pm, the bed was set-up to start pushing and ANP started prepped the room for Liam's arrival.

P.S. Sorry about the five parts. There's just too many details, and Part IV would have been way too long.

1 Month Old

2010-10-28T20:21:00.001-04:00

Our first month with Liam went by at an alarming rate (so alarmingly fast that I'm writing this post at 6 weeks and two days).

Nicknames: Boo Boo, Boo Boo Bear, Bubba, Booger, Booger Butt, Boogs, Little Man

Things I Could Do Without: We're waiting for you to sleep more than three hours at a time at night. We're ready, Little Man! The inconsolable screaming fits when you're overstimulated or overly tired are torture. The only thing to fix it is sleep, but getting you to actually fall asleep when you're in that state nearly takes an act of God.

Item/Toy We Love The Most: Your swing. It's our go-to to calm you down or get you to sleep when nothing else works. Your SLEEP SHEEP.

Item/Toy You Love The Most: You LOVE your activity play mat. You thrash your arms and kick your legs the whole time. And you could lay there and look at/talk to yourself in the mirror for hours (or untill you got overly tired and have a meltdown). You grabbed-on to one of the hanging toys (this one was the stuffed monkey that has two rings on the bottom) all by yourself (I can't remember if this actually happened last week at five weeks or at four weeks). I can't tell if it was 100% intentional, but you held on to it for a solid five minutes.

Things I’m Loving Most Right Now: I find it so adorable that you vigorously suck on your fist when you wake-up and realize your belly is empty. And when we're getting ready to nurse, you don't root, but you do mimic the suction action with your mouth when you're nowhere near your final destination. You get so excited when it's time to eat! Also, you take a while to fully wake-up from a good nap. I love to scoop you up before you're fully awake and lay on the bed with you snuggling and waking-up on my chest.

General:

You love to pee and poop on your Daddy. I don't know what it is about him, but he's your favorite target.

You LOVE bath time. We warm-up the bathroom with a space heater so it's toasty warm for you. You lay in the tub, and we spray water all over your little body. You look like you're in heaven. You even love having your hair washed.

You LOVE having your head rubbed. You take after your Mommy and Daddy with that.

Birth Story: Part III

2010-10-28T09:41:00.000-04:00

Once I was hooked-up to the Pictocin, my contractions really started to pick-up. By pick-up, we're talking every 30 to 90 seconds. Thankfully, they didn't last more than 30 to 45 seconds. Because they were short, they were manageable. When the Pitocin was started, I was in the hospital bed. And there I had to remain until Evil Night Nurse Katie was satisfied that I wouldn't react badly. Every once and a while, Liam's heart rate would still drop. I could tell this was really making Evil Night Nurse Katie nervous. Her poker face sucked.

Laboring in the bed was horrible. There was no way to get comfortable, and I felt completely confined. Evil Night Nurse Katie had me laying on my side to help with Liam's heart rate. My left side completely fell asleep. I asked to switch to my right. And then that side completely fell asleep. She also had me wearing the oxygen mask. I wore this mask for the rest of my labor, only taking it off a few times. The mask made breathing through contractions more complicated. And it smelled like plastic, which was awesome since my nose was buried in it. With each contraction, I would grip handles on the side of the bed and concentrate on breathing and relaxing the rest of my body. During my third trimester, I created a "labor and delivery" mix on my iPod. Thank goodness for that music. Everything online said to make a mix of calm, soothing music, but I knew better. I needed happy music. So I made a mix of John Mayer, Florence and the Machine, all three Twilight sound tracks, The Postal Service, Sara Barellias, Colbie Calait, and the like. Best decision ever. There were multiple times that I was singing in-between contractions.

At 6:22 am, I was allowed to move to the birthing ball. A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. Before I sat on it, Evil Night Nurse Katie put a puppy pad under it and draped puppy pads over it. I don't know if you knew this, but you leak a lot during (and after) labor. Each internal exam produces bloody gloves. And don't even get my started on the fluids.

When I got on the birthing ball, the Pitocin was also turned down. My contractions were on-top of each other, and it was obvious that my body was taking over. Josh's notes in the notebook say, "Contractions are more frequent and more painful." True, but the birthing ball made them SO much easier to manage. It was positioned right next to the bed. Close enough for me to rest my arms and head on the bed. In between contractions, I was upright and rocking back and forth. During contractions I either put my head down on the bed and rocked or rolled my head back and rocked. All the while, Josh was standing behind me so I could lean back if needed. I didn't want my shoulders or feet massaged during each contraction. I only wanted my head rubbed/scratched. It really helped to relax me.

In our birth class, the teacher told us about how contractions come on like a wave, peak, and then fade to nothing. It's SO true. They really did come on like a wave, starting small and growing. And when it was done, it was done. No pain. Nothing. Maybe some pressure if you were farther along in labor and the baby was dropped. The worst part about the contractions was that they were ON TOP of each other. The pain was manageable. But the frequency was wearing on me.

Since me and Liam needed to be monitored at all times, I couldn't leave the bed to use the bathroom. Josh's note in the notebook says, "6:40 am: First attempt at the bed pan: FAIL." There was never a second attempt. Major stage fright. Peeing in a bed pan in front of my husband and a nurse - no dice. Eventually, a catheter was used to drain my urine. And then a Foley bag a while later when my doctor realized that I produce A LOT of urine.

At 7:00 am there was a nurse change and Awesome Nurse Pam came back, as promised. Man was I glad to see her smiling face. She changed our "plan for today" on the white board to "Welcome Liam!" That's when it hit me that this was really happening.

Birth Story: Part II

2010-10-19T09:52:00.000-04:00

I forgot to mention... We took a notebook to the hospital to record our thoughts and the events of labor and delivery. I knew I would be a little preoccupied, and I wanted a way to remember everything. I started-off writing in the notebook, and Husband took-over when things got heavy. Here is the transcription of the note pertaining to Part I.

2:30 pm: Registered at the adminission office.

2:55 pm: Hooked-up to monitors; baby heart rate and contractions.

Josh thoughts: The L&D room is NICE
Betsy thoughts: I have to lay in this bed the whole time?!?

3:10 pm: Betsy gets blood drawn for blood work and IV lock.

Pam said, "I'm getting busy with you tomorrow!"

4:40 pm: Cervadil is in; didn't hurt at all, have to pee, not allowed to for an hour.

Watching US Open final.

Dr. Meade said, "Now we hurry-up and wait."

Josh sending text updates to family and friends.

I'm having some contractions. I feel my stomach tighten and then minor discomfort. 10+ minutes apart. Not necessarily consistent.

Okay, now on to Part II.

Awesome Nurse Pam and I bonded immediately. I can't even begin to explain how much better that made the entire experience. She kept saying, "I'm getting busy with you tomorrow!" and "We're going to have so much fun tomorrow!"

The US Open final ended-up being on rain delay, which was REALLY annoying. It took us 30 minutes (no exaggeration) to find the correct channel and then it was on delay. NOW WHAT? I am really anxious to get up and move around. I didn't know what position would be "my position" (the position in which I am the most comfortable), but I knew it wouldn't be lying down in bed. By now (6:15 pm per the notebook), my contractions seem to be getting a little closer and more uncomfortable. I'm waiting for Awesome Nurse Pam to come back so I can ask to go to the bathroom. I'm about to pee the bed, which wouldn't be so bad since I'm sitting on two puppy pads (they weren't really puppy pads, but they sure looked like them). I would enjoy laying and sitting on these pads until I left the hospital. At this point, we're starving. In passing, Awesome Nurse Pam says something about bringing me dinner. I am ECSTATIC.

Eventually I got to pee, and it was time for Awesome Nurse Pam to leave. At 7:10 pm, I met Evil Night Nurse Katie. Pam will be back in the morning, and she tells Katie that "she wants me back." My contractions are close and inconsistent. When I say close, I mean CLOSE. They are happening every minute to three minutes. They are more intense than before, but they don't hurt. I am, however, starting to feel them in my back. I predicted this when I was pregnant. My time-of-the-month pain consists of one day of serious back pain, never cramps. So I knew I'd experience back labor. And it sucked.

Evil Night Nurse Pam mentions something about dinner and she wonders if Awesome Nurse Pam ordered me a tray, as the cafeteria is now closed. She leaves to check. She's gone for a long time, and when she returns she doesn't mention anything about food. She looks at the paper output (the one that shows my contractions) and she notices how close they are. This is when I find-out that I won't be able to eat anything. Evil Night Nurse Katie is worried that I'm progressing quicker than expected and doesn't want me to eat anything in case I'm in active labor. Awesome. Husband spends the next couple hours sneaking me Combos.

At 7:50 pm, Evil Night Nurse Katie started me on IV fluids (this is how I found-out she was evil. She ROCKED my arm when she hooked-up the fluids. I said something about being surprised by how much it hurt and she just laughed it off. EVIL! Over the course of my labor, two other nurses hooked me up to fluids and it didn't hurt one bit. EVIL I tell you! A week later it was still bruised). Liam's heart rate dropped, so she "wanted to have access to me" if it dropped again. Plus, if I wanted an epidural eventually they wanted an entire bag of fluids in me. She also moved me to my left side to help with Liam's heart rate.

The next few hours passed in a blur. We watched the US Open. We played on the laptop. Husband went to find dinner. I covertly consumed Combos (what's up alliteration! Totally unplanned). We chit chatted excitedly about not believing this was actually happening. We tried to sleep. Husband probably got 3+ hours, and I slept maybe 1 1/2 hours. My sleep consisted of dosing off in between contractions. I vaguely remember laying in bed contemplating waking-up Husband to help me work through the contractions. After an hour, I finally said, "Husband, I need you." It took him a little bit to shake his sleepiness, but he was by my side being supportive.

At 3:20 am Evil Night Nurse Katie removed to Cervadil. It didn't hurt going in, but it sure hurt coming out. More evilness! She checked my progress, and I was still only 1 cm. When I heard that I felt deflated. My contractions were actually hurting at this point. Nothing terrible, a 3 out of 10, but they definitely feel different than before. I am experiencing a lot of back pain. I will be hooked-up to Pitocin at 4 am, so now is my chance to shower, brush my teeth, and pee. Once the Pitocin is on, Liam and I will have to be monitored constantly.

Showering was interesting. Every minute or two I would stop what I was doing and sway through the contractions. Also, the act of showering was complicated by the fact that the shower head was attached to a hose that didn't have a base on the wall. So Husband stood outside the shower curtain and held-up the shower head. Best Husband Ever.

Back in bed, Evil Night Nurse added Pitocin to my IV drip at 4:50 am. I was terrified of the Pitocin. I had read so many things about it being awful. And awful it was.

Part III coming soon.

Birth Story: Part I

2010-10-14T16:40:00.003-04:00

I had a doctors appointment on the 3rd (a Friday). Based on that appointment, my doctor was convinced that I wouldn't make it to my due date. Little man was REALLY low in my pelvis and I was dilated and effaced. Husband and I spent that week waiting and wondering. I spent the week working and wishing that I wasn’t. I also spend the week analyzing EVERY SINGLE thing going-on with my body. Well, we learned early that Liam is stubborn like his mommy because he didn’t come that next week. At our appointment on the 13th, our doctor told us that he waited all week for a phone call (he was on a staycation) from us. He was convinced that it would happen Thursday night during the Vikings game when he was loaded. It didn’t.

At our appointment on the 13th (a Monday), we learned that I was still only 1 cm, very effaced, and little guy was even lower in my pelvis. Doctor still couldn’t believe that I hadn’t gone into labor. He laid-out our options: (1) He would strip my membranes right then and there and send us home to wait it out. He said, “But I don’t really like to strip membranes because it’s kind of like torture.” Um, WHAT?! Apparently it’s really painful. I replied with, “PASS.” (2) Do nothing right then and there and come back on Thursday. Husband and I were ready to get this party started, so I asked if we HAD to wait until Thursday. I’m so glad I asked because he said we could go to the hospital after the appointment for me to be induced. OPTION THREE, please! Doctor called the hospital and talked to the doctor on-call (Dr. Meade). He said, and this is a direct quote, “I’m sending over a patient to be induced. Can you drop some Cervadil in her?” So casual. Just drop it in! Husband and I died laughing. So the plan was to get checked-in, drop-in Cervadil around 4 pm, removed Cervadil 12 hours later, start Pitocin. SUPER excited, we headed to the hospital.

When we got to the hospital, we went to the L&D area of the women’s pavilion. Which was wrong. We needed to register first, which was on the other side of the hospital. I can’t imagine doing through this process while already in labor. It didn’t take terribly long, but it would have felt like an eternity if I was managing contractions. Benefit number one to being induced. Once registered, we walked back over to L&D to get checked-in.

This is when we met Awesome Nurse Pam. When I say awesome, I mean AWESOME. Pam was amazing. She sent me to the bathroom to put-on what would be my uniform for the next four days. She followed me in the bathroom to ask me some personal questions, one of which was if my husband beat me. I swear I’m not making this up. I literally laughed at her, and said no. After the questions, she explained that if I had to pee I needed to do it into the plastic bin in the toilet. Fun. Then Awesome Nurse Pam left the room (with the cookies I baked for the nurses), and we got ourselves situated.

Awesome Nurse Pam came back, and I signed some papers. She got me hooked-up to the monitors, took my blood pressure (for the first of 800 times), and put-in the IV lock. I warned her ahead of time that I tend to pee A LOT, so she showed me how to disconnect the two monitors, throw the cords over my shoulder, and go to the bathroom. And then she left again.

The monitor above shows the contractions and fetal heartrate for each woman hooked-up the monitors. This was the cheapest entertainment. I stared at the screen for hours. It was so much fun to see the women in the different stages of labor. It was obvious when women were just starting the process, when they were in transition, and when they were pushing. It was great.

Eventually, Dr. Meade came to “drop-in” the Cervadil, which is like a tampon for your cervix. There’s a huge string (picture a shoe string) and everything that dangles to your mid-thigh. Totally weird. The goal of Cervadil is to soften the cervix and get it to start dilating. Putting it in didn’t hurt at all, and I couldn’t feel it once it was in (other than the string). Dr. Meade left, and we settled in for a 12 hour wait. The US Open final was on, so I watched that on and off for the next few hours. Awesome Nurse Pam came in every 10 or 15 minutes to check-on me.

After a couple hours, things started to pick-up a bit…

Funny Story: One

2010-10-11T12:32:00.000-04:00

Liam's birth story is in draft form. While I'm working on that, I want to share a funny story with you. The title of this post is Funyn Story: One, which implies that there are more funny stories to come. If you infered as much, you were correct! I don't know if you knew this, but babies are FUNNY. Sometimes, the funny really isn't so funny, but your only option is to laugh. And let me tell you, we've laughed, A LOT. Which for a period of time really sucked for me (I bet you have no idea just how many muscles you flex when you laugh. And sneeze, cough, blow your nose, yell, etc.), but more on that later. Anyway, here's that story:

Liam and I were released from the hospital on a Thursday. Our pediatrician wanted us to come in for a weight-check on Saturday. Our first time venturing out of the house with Booger (by far our favorite nickname for L). How exciting! Before leaving, Husband and I discussed how awesome it would be if Liam didn't have a blow out on our first trip out. So we had a quick chat with our new son, politely asking him to be nice and not need a change, and we headed-out.

It was our first trip to the pediatrician, so I had some paperwork to fill-out. We were sitting in the waiting room filling out the paperwork when we heard Liam let one blow. Every time (EVERY TIME) my son poops, I hear it loud and clear. Sometimes the walls shake, for real. Husband and I both laugh, but all I'm really thinking is, "Thank GOODNESS I'm filling-out this paperwork." So Husband takes him back to the bathroom for a change. Of course one minute later the nurse calls Liam's name. I tell her that my husband took Liam back to change him. She goes to wait for Husband after she takes me to the exam room. I settle-in the and finish the paperwork. Five minutes later, Husband is still gone, and I'm starting to worry.

I head to the bathroom where I think Husband took Liam, and there are two nurses waiting outside the door. I knock on the door saying, "Josh?" I hear, "Yeeees." "Do you need help?" "Yeees." Mommy to the rescue! I open the door and immediately start laughing (and holding my lady bits). It looks like a tornado touched-down in the bathroom. Liam is naked. There are baby clothes and wipes EVERYWHERE. And Husband looks a little panicked. I say, "What happened?!?!" Liam pooped, a lot. And then Husband was changing him, he pooped more and everywhere. And then he peed all over himself, the changing pad, changing table, and Josh. . Josh has ONE wipe left (We had packed at least 20), and he had gone-through a few diapers. All the while, Liam has this look of, "Did I do that?" on his face. Again, laughing is all you can really do.

We made it home without further incident... Other than the little man meltdown on the way home. Someone was hungry, and someone wanted to eat RIGHT NOW. It was the first time we really heard him wail. My heart broke. And of course we hit EVERY red light.

For Funny Story: Two, I'll explain this picture:

Somebody had a BABY

2010-09-30T12:28:00.004-04:00

I don't know if you heard, but that adorable little guy up there is mine, and he's out of my belly.

His stats:

Birthday: September 14, 2010

Time of birth: 1:08 pm

Weight: 8 lbs 1 oz

Length: 21.25 inches

A few fun facts about Liam:

He coos constantly - in his sleep, when he's nursing, when he's snuggling.

At his two-week appointment he weighed 9 lbs 8 oz - he's going to be a big boy!

He has the best temperament - he only fuses when he's wet (he HATES sitting in a dirty diaper) or when he's so tired he can't put himself to sleep.

He loves having his hands free when he's swaddled, and they always end up somewhere near his face.

He occupies every single inch of his mommy and daddy's hearts.

I will update the blog with his birth story and plenty of funny stories when I can sit comfortably without a pillow under my butt (details on this to come in L's birth story). Until then, here are some pictures to hold you over and make you swoon.

Um, Hi. BUY ME!

2010-09-09T12:47:00.003-04:00

As mentioned before, I'm on the prowl for cute Christmas pjs and a Christmas sweater. Um, how am I supposed to say no to either of these? RIDDLE ME THAT!

Santa's Little Helper

Monkey Footies

I could spend hours, HOURS, on the Carter's website. It's a sickness, I'm telling you.

I will say this about all of the clothes we have for L Bean: I don't think we have enough pajamas or sleep and plays. I've been cautious about buying footies. My worry is that he'll out-grow the length faster since his little feet have to be contained (we have no idea how tall this kid will be - the potential for TALL is there. Mom is 5'9" and dad is 6'4"). What do babies sleep in, besides footies? A onesie? In the winter? Omw (oh my word), I have so much to learn.

I recently emailed a friend inquiring about jackets for babies in the winter (her daughter was born in October of last year). I just couldn't picture a two or three month-old bulked-up in a jacket. She layered a long-sleeved onsie under EVERYTHING and put her daughter in a thick sweater most of the time. Think about it - you're not going to have your three month old just chilling outside in the cold. SO MUCH TO LEARN.

I also took a page from Friend Maggie's book and hung L Bean's clothes. Previously, everything was folded neatly in drawers. At first, I just hung his onesies and shirts. It's so much easier to get a look at ALL of his clothes, and I feel like it'll help make sure he wears everything (not just the 10 things that get washed and put back on top of the piles). This past weekend I noticed an extra little hook thingy (yes, that's the technical term) on the baby hangers - a place for pants! We all know that I love being organized, so this helps keep matching outfits together. I spent some time organizing his pants into closet too. I only hung the pants that match a onesie or shirt (example: adorableness). Don't worry, those drawers aren't going to waste. There are plenty footies, socks, blankets, jeans (from consignment sale), khakis (consignment), corduroys, etc. nestled neatly in them. Plus, I feel like the longer you've had the kid the more crap you accumulate. Now the crap has more places to hide!

I found these on the Old Navy website this weekend, just begging to be purchased:

But I resisted. First, they aren't on sale. Second, when do babies even start wearing shoes? I mean, we're trying to get away with just socks for as long as possible. But seriously, when do we need shoes?!?

And then I almost got these for next spring/summer:

These were actually on sale. But I didn't know what size to order, not knowing (1) when he'd need shoes and (2) how big he would be when he needed them.

As you can tell, I have baby on the brain.

On a TOTALLY different tangent - I really don't want L Bean to be born on September 11th. Is that stupid? L's generation may not even think twice about it, but that day has such a bad vibe for the rest of us. Regardless of its stupidity, I'm keeping my legs crossed until the 12th.

Count Down to Baby: SOON

2010-09-09T10:49:00.002-04:00

Today my spirits are better. So take THAT!

I realized this week just how hard it is to work and be this pregnant. I remember being sore and uncomfortable last week. After a three-day holiday weekend and one sick day, I noticed just how WRECKED I felt when I got home from work last night. My back hurt. I felt so much pressure in my lady bits. My feet were swollen. And I was mentally exhausted. What was I thinking working up until my due date?!?! Oh yeah, I’d rather spend the time off with my little guy than sitting and watching the US Open all day (It’s totally consuming my TV time).

I had an emotional turn-around last night. I realized that it was Wednesday night, and I only had two more days of work. And I realized that even if I didn’t go into labor on my own RIGHT NOW, we weren’t far from meeting Liam. As much as I want my body to do its thing and go into labor naturally, getting induced won’t be the end of the world. First, my body has already made progress. And it will likely have made even more progress by the time I get induced. So I won’t be starting from scratch, going zero to 60 really fast. Second, we can RELAX on the day of induction. We can wake-up, make coffee, and read the newspaper. We can calmly (albeit anxiously) go-over our packing list and bags. We don’t have to rush to the hospital. Third, I won’t have to play 20 questions with the hospital staff when I’m in active labor. Fourth, we can snuggle our babies (the dogs) all morning and give them lots and LOTS of love. Where I was an impatient, uncomfortable mess just two days ago, I am thankful, full of faith, and still uncomfortable today.

I think I have a problem… I am obsessed with baby clothes. I’m obsessed with sales, online and in store. I get email updates. Lots of them. All of which I need to UNSUBSCRIBE to. This kid needs to get here so I can realize that we have enough clothes for him. But let me tell you – L Bean has the CUTEST Thanksgiving outfit. We’re going to be at The Homestead over Thanksgiving (my parents have a time share). It’ll be our first trip with baby. Luckily it’s only a 2+ hour drive away. I’ve also been scoping Christmas pajamas, because obviously he needs to be festive. We are SO pumped to have family time Christmas morning. He won’t know the difference, but it’ll be nice to not rush-off right after waking-up. I’ve also been on the prowl for when the Christmas sweaters come out. Um, can we say Christmas card?!?! Don’t worry – he already has a Halloween onesie and the cutest little hat you’ve ever seen.

And who said dressing a boy wasn’t fun?! And yes, everything was on sale so operation “Don’t Pay Full Price For Baby Clothes” is still a success.

I’m beginning to feel better, thank you God. My throat doesn’t hurt anymore. See, another reason why L Bean waiting to make his entrance is a good thing. Mommy gets time to feel better. I would REALLY like to be able to breathe through my nose while in labor. Just a small request.

Wanna know what’s on my mind? Oh, just baby stuff… and NOTHING ELSE. I can’t focus on anything to save my life. All I can think about is: What will he look like? How much will he weigh? Holding him. Snuggling him. Kissing his nose. Him wrapping his little fingers around my finger. Nursing him. DRESSING him. Seeing Josh hold him. Will I cry when he’s born? Will Josh cry when he’s born? Not sleeping because of him. Seeing the dogs react to and fall in love with him. Play dates with friends. 12 weeks at home with him. My dad visiting in TWO WEEKS. I could keep going, but you get the picture. It’s BABY BABY BABY. There isn’t room for anything else.

Happy 39 Weeks, L Bean!

2010-09-07T09:58:00.001-04:00

Well, Labor Day came and went without any labor. How poetic would that have been?

I had a doctor appointment last Friday, and I had my first internal exam! Friend Sarah tagged along for this appointment.  She's seen me naked or half-naked more times than I can count, so her being present for the internal exam was al natural. I thought for sure the exam would be very uncomfortable, but it really wasn't so bad (I'll spare you the description I gave my husband - you're welcome). Doc checked-out L Bean's heartbeat via ultrasound first. All was well. He also took a peak at the placenta, which was visibly maturing. And then he tried to measure his head. I say "tried" because his head is so low in my pelvis that he couldn't get a good read. I won't tell you how low the ultrasound wand was while he was trying to get the measurement, you can just use your imagination.

After the ultrasound, it was internal time! I'd been feeling pressure on my cervix all week, so I was hoping that SOMETHING was happening. According to Doc, I was 1+ centimeters dilated and VERY effaced. So THAT'S what I had been feeling all week. Neither of those measurements mean all that much, as many women are dilated and effaced for weeks before they go into labor. L Bean is very low in my pelvis - good job, little man! Doc told me that he thought I could go at any time. ANY TIME. And sooner rather than later. After the exam, there was some bleeding. This is totally normal, although I did waltz right back into Doc's office to have this confirmed. About to get TMI, avert your eyes boysss: The blood was mucusy, so I was hoping that Doc dislodged my muscus plug. No dice. It's still plugging strong (so gross, but I couldn't resist).

I'm now convinced that L Bean is stubborn like his momma, because he seems pretty darn comfortable. An induction date (no, I'm not going to let you in on the secret) has been set if I don't go into labor on my own.  There IS an end in sight.

The weekend was spent like this: Wait. Wait. Waiting. Clean. Wait. Laundry. Wait. Dinner with brother and SIL. Wait. Clean (things that had already been cleaned). Wait. Dinner with brother, SIL, and mom (spicy food). Wait. Wait. WAIT. We threw-in another labor inducing trick over the weekend, but that's PRIVATE.

Oh, and did I mention that I'm sick?  Husband was sick all week, and it finally caught-up with me this weekend. So really the weekend went like this: Wait. Blow nose. Wait. Wait. Drink water to sooth throat. Blow nose. Sniffle. Wait. Try to sleep. Wait. Fail to sleep AT ALL. Wait. Husband moves to couch because he's coughing. Wait. Try to sleep. Fail to breath through nose. Day dream about taking Benadryl to help me breath and sleep. Wait.... you get the picture. 39 weeks of being healthy, and my immune system picks NOW to get lazy.

My emotional climate this weekend was like a roller coaster. My poor husband. The waiting is excruciating. I don't know how women stay sane when they actually PASS their due date.   Not feeling well and not being able to sleep magnifies every emotion. And then add-on a healthy does of general discomfort from being very pregnant. That Dairy Queen Blizzard last night made me feel better for a bit... and then I felt bad for a different set of reasons. My spirits seem better today. I stayed-home from work in an effort to jump-start feeling better and to catch-up on sleep. There's nothing good on TV and the house is already spotless, so I may go a LITTLE crazy by the end of the day. I keep telling myself that I need to enjoy these last days of having L Bean all to myself. I am truly going to miss being pregnant, so I'm trying to switch my attitude. Easier said than done, but progress is being made.

At dinner this weekend with brother, SIL, and mom, we went-over our expectations for the hospital, visitors, and updates. And then being home, visitors, and updated. And the phone calls and texts to update. It's so hard to coordinate something that is such an unknown. For once, my Type A self has a "well figure it out" attitude. Aren't you proud?!?! Crazy, I know.

I'm a Believer!

2010-09-01T20:46:00.000-04:00

A friend was nice enough to alert me to a couple consignment sales happening in Richmond this week and next. Since operation Never Pay Full Price For Baby Clothes is underway, I was SO excited for the sale tonight. Josh and I attended the preview for new and expecting moms - the sale doesn't start for the general public until Friday. Having never been to a consignment sale before, we have no idea what to expect. OH MY GOODNESS. There was a line of 50+ people when we got there at 6:00 pm. By the time we parked the line was moving, and we were inside in no time. We were immediately overwhelmed by the amount of STUFF. Books, toys, shoes, backpacks, and the CLOTHES. I can't even tell you how many clothes there were.

We were grossly unprepared for the experience. We didn't have a bag. We didn't bring enough money. I didn't wear a tank top (it was 800 degrees in there). I didn't bring my camera. And I didn't bring my phone. The phone part was especially stupid considering I was planning to catch-up with a couple girlfriends. By the time we were ready to leave, it was PACKED. We walked through the crowds and didn't see any familiar faces, so we booked it out of there. Did I mention it was 800 degrees inside? Sweat was rolling down the side of my face and down, er, other places. And I had to pee like WHOA.

We spent $65. We got four books and two wooden puzzle games. We also got a slew of clothing. Five button-up shirts. Two pairs of corduroys. Two pairs of jeans. One pair of khakis. One long-sleeved onsie and matching overalls. Two sweater vests. Two sweaters. And one hooded fleece. We have a ton of 0 to 6 months clothes, so we concentrated on getting 6 to 12 months clothes. And we wanted to snag the types of clothes that we wouldn't normally buy ourselves (read: expensive and nice).

In the pile is a pair of Calvin Klein jeans. A Gymboree button-up that still had the tags on it. Baby Gap items. Children's Place, Oshkosh B'Gosh, and IZOD are also represented. All of the for $52.

Um, SWOON! The sweater vest is actually red - the light makes it look orange (it's nighttime and I was using artificial light and no flash - it happens).

We're already talking about next year's sale. I'll still be considered a "new mom" so I'll be able to partake in the preview sale. Next year, however, we will go prepared. We'll take much more money. We'll take bags (we have Ikea bags that would be PERFECT). And we'll leave L Bean with Grammy. Divide and conquer is our game plan. We're pumped. A google reminder has been set-up. Oh yes, we're THAT excited.

Husband's allergies are flaring-up, so we stopped-by Rite-Aid on the way home to pick-up some medicine. While we were there, we also grabbed some diapers (we try to grab a pack of diapers whenever we're at a store that sells them in a effort to spread-out the expense. And don't worry, we're not buying newborn diapers). We also grabbed some snacks for Husband's hospital bag.

When we got home, Husband installed our car seats bases. It was easy peasy. Both of our cars have a strap specifically designed for a car seat, which is nice. Husband has informed me that it's called a "latch strap." Whatever the name, it made the task easier than we taught it would be.

Since it's important, he read the directions.

Voila!

The babies watched-on wondering why they couldn't get in the car to go "bye-bye." The pictures aren't the clearest of the bunch that I took, but they're my favorites for some reason.

No Much Happening Around Here

2010-08-31T19:35:00.000-04:00

I haven't written much in August as there hasn't been much going on. I totally predicted this would happen. We tore through all of our baby prep, and now we're twiddling our thumbs and stalking the calendar. I'm so thankful (and a little surprised) that we stuck to our "get it done early" goal. I can't imagine trying to finish projects at this point. It would all fall on Husband's shoulders (and he's already taken over the following duties: picking-up things off the floor, pulling me out of the laying position in bed, carrying the laundry basket EVERYWHERE, and even getting my phone when it rings if I'm propped-up on the couch - seriously, how lucky am I?).

I had my 37 (and 4 days... but who's counting) appointment last Friday. All is well in Liamland! My BP is normal. My urine looks good (and no, we're not talking aesthetically). L Bean's heart rate is good. I was sent-home with another 4D picture of his adorable little mug. Oh my goodness. THAT FACE. His cheeks look chubbier than last week. And he has the cutest chin - to whom in the family it belongs, we have no clue. Full lips (mom). Cute little ears and button nose (dad). And what look like big eyes (mom).   It was the shortest appointment yet. Maybe five minutes. Doc came in and gave me a big hug hello. Have I told you how much I love my doctor? I could put him in my pocket and take him home. If nothing happens before next Friday, he'll check me (we're talking internals, people) to see if I've dilated. Holy cowsers.

I can't believe I'm sharing this, but I promised honesty.  Saturday I noticed some stretch marks. Not on my belly (thankfully). I won't tell you the exact spot because I'm still in denial.  There's one in particular that looks pretty angry - I call it Murphy. Luckily, they're not really visible to the general public. Hopefully with time (and body shrinkage) they'll get smaller and less angry.  I have no one to blame but myself. I've mentioned this before, but I'll tell you again. I've gained some serious poundage during this pregnancy. It may not look like it to you, but trust me - there is at least 40 extra pounds on my frame (I don't know the exact number. I literally cover my eyes when I get weighed). I was a smidge underweight for my age and height when I got pregnant, so some of the weight gain was needed for a healthy pregnancy and baby. But certainly not all of it. I've pretty much consumed whatever I felt like whenever I felt like it. Especially these past few weeks. This is my only regret throughout this entire pregnancy. I wasn't active. My food self control was non-existent. Thankfully I'm at the end, so it can't get much worse. I will tell you - this weekend was an all-time pregnant self-esteem low.

We met baby Jax (Jack for long) last week! He was a week and a half old and so cute you could eat him. We took the family dinner, and in exchange we got to snuggle their sweet boy for a bit. Husband was swoonworthy. He cradled Jax so naturally, and he kept stroking his little arm with a single finger. His face told the story of what was going through his mind - he's SO ready to hold his own son. My heart reached the near explosion level. Jax's mommy looked AMAZING. She has just given birth a week or so before, and she was just glowing. I wasn't expecting her to look rough, but I wasn't expecting her to look THAT great. She wears motherhood so well.   It was so fun spending an hour in that kind of emotional climate. We couldn't help but feel the love.

This past weekend Josh had a soccer tournament. His team won! I baked cookies and banana bread. I cleaned and did laundry. I napped and rested. The weekend passed by WAY too quickly. I went to Target and got my "after birth" goodies (the ice packs are already in the freezer).

I figured it wouldn't be very nice of me to send Husband to the store to buy HUGE maxi-pads and hemorrhoids pads. Hopefully I won't need the hemi pads, but I'd rather be over-prepared than under-prepared (Who, me?! NEVER). I also got some big 'ol cotton undies. I'm not much for regular underwear, so it'll be interesting wearing those pad-hammocks for a few weeks. When I brought them home and showed them to Husband, he said, "Sometimes full underwear is really sexy. You know, like boy shorts." To which I said, "Honey, these are NOT boy shorts. They're sole purpose is to hold a pad in place. Think granny-pantie." He stopped smiling after that.

Today my feet are swollen. Husband even noticed. We're keeping an eye on them to make sure it's not happening really quickly, as that's usually not a good thing. I've definitely noticed an up-tick in activity this week. More contractions. More uncomfortable contractions. Longer contractions. A general dull ache in my lower belly from time to time. I'm exhausted; although I think this has more to do with work than anything. I plan to stop working when I pop or until my due date, whichever comes first (that's nine more workdays, max, but who's counting). As each day passes, I realize that working until my due date will be tough. But we have a big deadline coming-up, and it's too important that I contribute. At least it's a desk job.

My dad booked his flights to come visit right after L Bean is born. I can't even tell you how excited I am. I can't wait to see the tears :)

Just for fun, here are two pictures of our oldest kids:

They're ready to be the best big brother and big sister to L Bean!

Breastfeeding and Calendars (Unrelated)

2010-08-19T15:38:00.000-04:00

Have I ever told you about how I thought I was a week or so more pregnant than my doctor? True story.

When we got pregnant, I wasn’t on birth control. We knew we wanted to start a family sooner rather than later, and we didn’t know how long it would take my body to adjust to being hormone-free. Because I wasn’t on the pill, I kept a calendar. Kept a calendar of what, my two (maybe) male readers ponder? Monthly lady details, my friends. If you’ve ever been on birth control and then stopped, you know why I kept a calendar (here’s another hint to my faithful male readers: everything is JACKED-UP). I’ll spare you my notation details, but my Type A peeps would be proud. On that calendar, I kept track of EVERYTHING (she blushes coyly). You know, just in case. Well, Just in Case’s name is Liam, and he’ll make an appearance in a few weeks.

Because I kept track on said calendar I know when, YOU KNOW, happened. So when I was asked for the first date of my last cycle, I cited my calendar and cracked some joke about being meticulous and date of conception (totally inappropriate, nervous Betsy joke). Doctor laughed. I knew I liked him for a reason. Based on my dates, my due date would be September 8th. Based on what Doctor saw during that first ultrasound, my due date was set at September 14th. And there it has remained. Due dates are based on average cycles. Revisiting my “jacked-up” comment above, there was nothing average about my cycles. They’d be long and then short and then long and then long and then short. It was SO much fun. L Bean is measuring right-on-track for a September 14th due date, so obviously Doctor knows best. September 8th sounds pretty awesome right about now, though.

On a different note, Husband looked at me last night and said, “It looks like your stomach has grown since this morning.” We measured. It hadn’t. But it sure feels like it. Clothes are getting TIGHT (and not just around my stomach, sad face).

We had our last baby class last night: breastfeeding basics for couples. Yes, Husband tagged along. I’m going to need his help/support. Plus, they showed a video (I kid, I KID!).

Before I talk about our class, I have to share something swoon-worthy with you. The past three classes we’ve taken have involved baby dolls. One per couple. As each class progressed, Husband would sneak the baby doll into his lap or he’d hold it in his arms. Someone’s excited to be a daddy!

Okay, back to breastfeeding. When I first got pregnant, I knew I wanted to breastfeed. I also felt totally scared and weird about it. L Bean was the size of a poppy seed, so there wasn’t much mother-son bonding going on, and I had a hard time imagining a baby on my breast. As I’ve gotten more and more pregnant, I’ve gotten more and more excited about breastfeeding. After last night’s class, I’m more excited than ever. And for the first during this pregnancy, I’m confident and FAITHFUL. Did you know the average weaning age in Europe is three years? A year ago I would have said, “UGH! No way. That’s a TODDLER.” By no means so I plan to nurse until L Bean is three, but I get it now.

I had a breastfeeding epiphany last night: If L Bean is anything like his father, he’ll be a breastfeeding champion (I won’t reveal details, but Husband weaned a bit late).

Weekend Update

2010-08-18T10:32:00.000-04:00

It’s official: We are (materially) ready for L Bean’s arrival. I had another shower this past weekend with a handful of soccer friends (plus Mom and SIL). It was awesome. We played a few fun games, laughed A LOT, and reminisced about how we “used to be cool.” I got my Moby Wrap (WOOP!). I showed Husband how the wrap works during shower gift show-and-tell on the living room floor (and yes, these gift were also packed-away and organized within 30 minutes of their arrival as Casa de L Bean). I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't loving, so we ordered him a Balboa sling in black. He's SUPER excited about it. Can't you just picture him walking-around the grocery store with Liam in a sling?! SWOONSVILLE. The sling is adjustable, so we can both use it. It wasn't cheap, so we plan on USING it.

After the shower, Husband and I headed to Target (thanks, Sarah and Josh!) and Babies R Us (“BRU”) to purchase the handful of items we still needed. BRU really knows how to sink their teeth into you. We have a rewards card, so we get tons of (surprisingly awesome) coupons in the mail. Also, last week we received our 15% off coupon for all items remaining on our registry (and you better believe I was on Babiesrus.com right before we left the house adding things to our registry "just in case"). Um, holler! We needed towels, a bathtub, bottles, and some bedding items (sheets, mattress protector, cradle pad, cradle sheets, etc). We also needed a going-home outfit in size Newborn (we haven’t the faintest how big he’s going to come-out, so we’re taking two outfits in two sizes). BRU was having a sales on all Carter’s clothing (TROUBLE), so of course we went-home with an extra (and might I say adorable – Husband picked-out) outfit. The total at BRU was $218 before coupons, and $171 after. I LOVE saving money. After two loads of laundry and 30 minutes of bed-making/organizing, his nursery is full of the necessities. I even pulled-together his downstairs changing basket (because let’s be honest here – I am NOT walking my butt upstairs EVERY time he needs to be changed). His hospital diaper bag is packed – two going-home outfits, amazingly soft and awesome blanket, nipple cream, baby mittens, and finger nail clippers (in case he comes-out with tiger claws). And the boppy is dressed and ready.

We didn’t get much done this weekend, and I’m feeling a little (okay, REALLY) guilty about it. I didn’t bake the cookie as planned. We didn’t vacuum or dust or clean the bathrooms. I did do some laundry, change the towels and sheets, and make rice krispy treats and muffins. Josh cut the (front) grass (you know, because no one can see the backyard but us). The cradle is still unfinished (and I’m panicking a little about it). I finished and mailed thank you notes. Our cars need a good internal cleaning, and then we need to install the car seat bases. I need to bake those “love me!” cookies for the nurses. I need to use-up those rotten bananas and bake banana bread. And I need to get enough done at work to get rid of the guilt I’m experiencing. We have two big deadlines in the fall, both of which I’m going to miss. We have a breastfeeding class this week (our last class!). All of this may not sound like much, but have I mentioned that I’m completely exhausted? And sleep is more difficult every night. My feet and back hurt. Doc warned me (a few weeks ago when I was feeling great and had energy) that it wouldn’t last and I would quickly start feeling like poop on a stick. Bonus points for Doc!

Notice above that I said we were “materially” ready. Husband texted me earlier this week to let me know that Friend’s water had broken. Her due date is (was) two weeks before mine. So she went two weeks early. I texted back with, “Holy cow, Husband, that could be us in TWO WEEKS!” A work-friend asked me last week if I was scared. If she were to ask that same questions right now, my answer would be very different. Heck yes, I’m scared! But I JUST got scared. Friend’s water breaking made things very real. DUDE, it’s going to HURT. And DUDE, I’m going to be a MOM. And DUDE, we’re going to be responsible for a BABY. And DUDE, babies cost a lot of MONEY. And DUDE, did I mention that labor HURTS? But what does it FEEL like? Is the pain sharp or is it dull and strong? And then there’s the unknown factor of when. Will my water break at work? Will my water break period (on its own)? Will I go into labor at night? Will he be two weeks early or will he be on time? Will I be induced? Will I tear? Will everything go smoothly? Does an epidural hurt and will I even care if it does hurt? Can I handle the pain? Will I need a c-section? Will I cry when he’s born? Will I poop while I’m pushing (yeah, I just went there)? Will his Apgar scores be good? I could bore you further with the Rolladex of questions rotating through my brain, but I think you get the picture. This is BIG and this is SCARY. And we’re going to be just fine, but right now it’s still scary.

Some Cool People Visited and I Got Showered

2010-08-11T20:09:00.000-04:00

I had been counting down to last weekend for MONTHS. Now it's done and gone. Mega sad face. But it was a total blast.

Kerry and Caroline came to visit. We shopped and ate. It was divine. They got to see the nursery. They also tagged-along to the hospital for a tour and Kerry was my wingwoman for a pre-natal with a pediatrician (and she was a stellar wingwoman). The pre-admin nurse at HDH offered to give me a quickie tour since the official hospital tours fill-up three months in advance (which would have been nice to know!). So Jessica (SIL), Kerry, Caroline, and I went to the hospital bright and early Friday morning. Debra, pre-admin nurse, was AWESOME. She ended-up spending 30+ minutes with us. We saw everything. The L&D rooms. The postpartum rooms. The lobbies. The nurseries (CUTE CUTE CUTE babies were inside). I bet our impromptu tour kicked the official tour's butt! The L&D rooms were all remodeled within the past year, and they were beautiful. And really spacious. I was pleasantly surprised. I mean, they were HUGE. Being the planner that I am, seeing the hospital really made me feel more comfortable. And it was fun for K & C to see where I would be delivering, since they won't be able to visit until a while after L Bean's birth.

Kerry

Caroline

Jessica

Saturday I got showered. A big thank you to Natalie, my mom, and Jessica for putting together such a great event. It was perfect. Josh and I are so blessed to have some amazing and generous friends and family. Here are some pictures of the shower:

My sweet cousin Megan. Seriously, how cute is she?!?

Maggie came! The shower date was 7 days before her due date. Such a trooper.

Red velvet cake, my favorite!

Some of the coolest women I know.

Thank you, Natalie!!!

Caroline took pictures while I opened gifts. Here is the one and ONLY picture where I'm making a semi-normal face:

Ella and Megan helped me open gifts.

And because I was literally laughing out-loud when I looked through the pictures, here are the many faces of opening baby gifts:

I don't think I've ever used the word "cute" so much in my life.

I think this one if my favorite. This face makes me think of the smell of Husband's farts on one of his good days.

We unloaded our bounty (just for you, Caroline!) at home; and because I'm crazy, I did show-and-tell with Husband, and then we immediately unpacked, organized, broke-down boxes, and threw clothes in the laundry. L Bean's room looks ready now. Not so staged and perfect. It looks lived-in. Or at least ready to be lived-in.

On Sunday, K, C, Husband, and I went to a church that Husband and I had been too chicken to visit ourselves. It's a lot like the church K, C, and family attend in Michigan. It's big. It's loud. It's contemporary. The first time I attended a church like this, I must admit, I was completely intimidated. But now it's where I feel the most at home. Church doesn't have to be stuffy and boring. It doesn't require ties and tights. Kerry made good on her promise and shook lots of hands and kissed lots of babies (her words). Overall, we enjoyed the experience and plan to go back this weekend. On the way home, we were rear-ended. It was minor, but an accident all the same. We pulled-off the road and assessed the damage. It turns-out that the guy was coming from church, the very church we just visited. We couldn't help but laugh. He felt terrible and was completely embarrassed. And he really lost it when I stepped-out of the car, and realized that I was pregnant. Accidents are an inconvenience to all involved, but at least the guy was really nice and we had a good laugh with him. And everyone was A-okay and safe. Although, I definitely did obsess over EVERY little thing my body did for the next few hours.

The weekend passed entirely too quickly. Before I knew it, the shower was over and Kerry and Caroline were leaving. I napped like a champion Sunday afternoon. No baking was done (shock and awe!). No cleaning was done. No laundry was done. But it was the BEST weekend.

Nursery Status: COMPLETE

2010-08-11T19:27:00.002-04:00

Here are the final pictures of L Bean's nursery. While I'm relieved to be done (and proud that we didn't procrastinate), I'm also a little sad. We had so much fun planning and completing the nursery.

Hope you like it as much as we do!

A Way Back When Weekend Update

2010-08-11T19:20:00.003-04:00

L2L, oh how I've missed you! I'd like to say that I've been slacking on the blog solely due to the vigors of our rigorous social (because we're soooo popular) and baby preparation schedules but I'd be 50% lying. I've also been suffering from pregnancy enduced laziness resulting from sore feet and a baby that's sucking all of energy out of me.

Here's what we did last, last weekend.

I made banana bread. We already had a baked breakfast item on the kitchen counter, so I put these two loaves in the freezer. I forgot to take an after picture. Pregnancy brain is REAL, people!

I made "Muffins That Taste Like Donuts." For reals, that's the title of the recipe. And yes, they do taste like donuts. In the bowls above: frosting (totally my idea!), butter, and a sugar and cinnamon mixture.

Josh REALLY loved the muffins. Personally, I prefer my muffins to be moist. But since these were meant to taste like donuts, they also had the consistency of donuts. Josh polished them off all by himself. My little champ.

I made chocolate chip scones. They were surprising easy and super tasty. The second time around I'm going to add less chips. But the recipe lends itself to adding other accent ingredients, like blueberries or cranberries.

Lastly, I made rice krispie treats. Delish!

We spend Sunday afternoon completing the FINAL nursery project. Yes, that is my husband cutting-out fabric. He also drew and cut-out the templates. I'm a lucky lady!

How cute is he?! He didn't even complain about the pink scissors.

I'm so thankful to have a husband that can draw. My skills rival that of a 3rd grader.

The final product. We got the frames from Michael's during their dollar days, so they were 50% off. Pregnancy has made me a cheap deal seeker, and I like it. These little guys are my favorite thing in the nursery. I'm so smitten.

I'm sure we did something else that weekend, but it was a long time ago (a whole week and a half), and I'm PREGNANT (read: my memory is shot).

35 Week Update

2010-08-11T08:50:00.001-04:00

35 weeks means there are 5 weeks left. 5 WEEKS. FIVE WEEKS. FIIIIIIVE WEEKS.

I’d like to start this post with a funny (at least I think it’s funny) story: So I’m in the drive-thru at Taco Bell today (and yes, it felt soooo good to be soooo bad) talking to Josh on the phone about what the VW Estimator Man said about the damage to the back of the Passat (more on that later). It’s lunchtime, so there’s a line, and I get stuck next to the Bell’s windows for an extended period of time. I’m holding the phone with my left hand, which is the hand closest to the windows. I randomly peak towards to windows, and I see Weird Guy staring at me. And then Weird Guy proceeds to nod (you know, the upward nod that just screams, How you doin?”), WINK (who are you, Simon Cowell?!?!), and then smile at me. And I quickly averted my eyes. I wanted to get out of the car, tap on the window next to his face, and point-out the obvious that my seated position inside a car was hiding. Swollen fingers, so my wedding ring is around my neck. And big ol’ 35-week baby belly. But hey, thanks for making me feel like I’ve still got it, Weird Guy! On a slightly different, yet still related note – I guess I forgot I was pregnant because I ordered a Number 8 combo (3 hard tacos, since I know you’re curious). That’s all I ordered. If you’ve been pregnant or you’re currently pregnant, then you know what I’m getting at. That’s not even CLOSE to enough food. I easily could have packed-way three more. In hindsight, a Crunchwrap would have added nicely to the meal. And my ever-growing butt thanks me.

Anyway, what’s new this week?

I. Am. Uncomfortable. Please save me from this misery! I kid, it’s really not THAT bad. Although, last night I was whining like a little baby. But for reals, things are getting tight in MA BELLY, Baby is growing something fierce, and my feet hurt constantly. On average, I wake-up 3 times a night to pee (up from my old average of 2 times per night). Sleeping makes my body stiff and sore. This morning, I literally felt like I had run a 10-miler this weekend. I inquired with a work friend and was told this is normal, this is expected, and is what the last five weeks are going to feel like.

I have a doctor’s appointment. How is this different, you wonder quietly to yourself? For the most part, it’s not different. My twice a week schedule will transition to weekly after this appointment. I’ll pee, they’ll test. They’ll take my BP, which I’ll get nervous about and then worry that it’ll be high because I was nervous. He’ll ask how I’m feeling, if I have any questions. I’ll get to peep my little guy for a few minutes through an ultrasound. And here’s where it’s different. It’s the week of my Strep B test. The nurse told me last time to expect the test, and I asked the doctor some general questions about Strep B, the test, reasons for the test, etc. (because I’m a good little patient). There are three words that I really remember (it was EARLY in the morning, and I’m PREGNANT): Penicillin. Swab. Rectum. Okay, okay, SAY WHAT?!?! My tired, pregnant brain couldn’t process the heft of our conversation at the time, but you better believe the wheels were spinning later in the day. I’ve read a few things online, and swab + rectum seem to be a common thread. Feel badly for me. And hope that my assumptions are incorrect.

Oh, hey there, Contraction. I still get a handful of Braxton Hicks Contractions every day. I used to only notice them because my uterus tightened-up like a vice grip. Now I can actually FEEL them. As in, hi, you're kind of uncomfortable. It's doesn't hurt, but it's not comfortable either. They last anywhere from 10 to 20 seconds. There have been a few times where I've had three in an hour, which put me on high alert. Usually the high alert count is 4 in one hour. Last night in our newborn class I had two within 20 minutes of each other, which was an eyebrow raiser. But that third and fourth one never came, so we forgot all about it by the end of class. Husband was so cute during our class break. He said, "So you had one at 7:10 and 7:30 (I wrote the times down on the papers in front of us), but no more after that? Okay, good." Somebody was paying attention!!

No more kicks. I’ll get an occasional kick from my sweet inhabitant, but it’s mostly movement now. Space is limited, so he can’t wind-up like he used to. But the movements, OH THE MOVEMENTS! I think I’d prefer the kicks and punches. Sometimes it feels like he has his hands and feet on my spine and he’s pushing his back and butt out against my belly as hard as he possibly can. You picture that and smile, but it’s not pleasant. And lately he’s been trying to reach a foot or hand around my back. I’ve got news buddy, NOT possible. He’s still trying to stick his hands OUT of my lady bits, which is still closed for exit. And a few times a day he’ll do something that makes me go, “OOH! “ or “OUCH!” or “AAAAHH (sound of breath catching on my throat).” Husband had a stern talk with him last night about not beating-up Mommy, so he’s been a bit calmer today.

The nursery is complete! No more projects. No more painting. No more planning (what am I to do with my time?!?!). No more spending money, HOLLER!! I had a shower this weekend, so there’s stuff in the nursery too. It no longer looks like it’s staged for a magazine cover. It looks READY. And I peak in there every morning before work

Daddy is coming to visit! I just found-out that my dad is planning to visit after L Bean is born for a few days. A few DAYS! A day a meetings will be scheduled in there somewhere, but the other days will be spent hanging out with his grandson. SWOON. My day was made when I heard this news.

I’m tired. Doc wasn’t kidding when he said that Energized Pregnant Betsy would give-way to Exhausted Pregnant Betsy around this time in the pregnancy. Lots of naps have been had.

We're getting REALLY excited. With each day that passes, the reality of what's going to happen (soon) sets-in a little deeper. I had a baby shower this weekend that we'd been talking about for months. Kerry and Caroline came for a visit, which we'd been talking about for months. The nursery that we'd been working on for months is completed. The rooms in our house are painted. The kitchen is organized. There are strollers in our dining room. A carseat on the dining room table. The only thing left to do is to refinish the cradle (it's about 25% complete). Oh, and have this baby. I was talking to my Dad yesterday, and I said something along the lines of, "I can't believe this weekend has come and gone. We talked about it for so long, and now it's over." To which he said, "Yeah, now all you have to do is have this kid!" Wow. Just wow. He's so right. We've planned and prepped. Now there's just one thing left to do - have a baby. And let me tell you, we are SO ready to have this baby. We took a newborn class last night (just a quick 2.5 hour class), and each couple was given a baby doll to use (for diapering, bathing, feeding, holding, etc.). I kept peaking at Husband, and he would be holding the doll. Just holding it (it was a her - we were a little bummed). I couldn't help but smile. He's going to be the best dad. And I think together we're going to be great parents. This past 35 weeks have been the fastest and best of our lives. But I bet it won't even compare to the next few months.

34 Week Bump

2010-08-08T18:17:00.000-04:00

It doesn't look to me like my belly has grown all that much. I keep waiting to wake-up to Josh saying, "WHOA! Where did THAT come from?!?" In terms of inches, I think I've grown 5 inches (from 37 to 42) in the past six or so weeks. With my height, there is more vertical space. At least that's the only explanation we can come-up with, because our little guy is a fatty.

Happy 33 Weeks, L Bean!

2010-07-31T09:29:00.001-04:00

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

2010-07-29T10:35:00.000-04:00

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

2010-07-27T18:51:00.001-04:00

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

2010-07-26T20:34:00.001-04:00

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.

It's the little things

2010-07-21T08:56:00.002-04:00

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?”

L Bean's Crib Mobile

2010-07-19T20:52:00.003-04:00

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.

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!

2010-07-18T08:22:00.001-04:00

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.

Health(ier) Eating Habits

2010-07-15T08:21:00.001-04:00

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 :)

Crib Mobile Teaser

2010-07-14T19:54:00.001-04:00

Almost done.

Countdown: 9 Weeks to Baby

2010-07-12T17:02:00.001-04:00

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?

Hospital Bag(s)

2010-07-09T11:05:00.000-04:00

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.

Fiona Update and Actual Baby Stuff

2010-07-07T19:40:00.001-04:00

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.

Vet, Pet, and Eye Guy Adventures

2010-07-06T14:29:00.001-04:00

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).

A Non 4th Weekend

2010-07-05T21:19:00.003-04:00

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.

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.

My poor, sweet Princess.

2010-06-30T19:44:00.002-04:00

This week I've gotten a taste of what it will be like to have a sick and hurting baby/kid. In a word: HEARTBREAKING. It's also panic-inducing. My sweet princess, Fiona, has been sick. To make a very long story short, the vet thinks Fiona was bitten by a snake on her cheek. WHAT?!?! When, how? We'll never know. The treatment prescribed on Monday was stopped, and a new, more aggressive approach was taken today. We hope to wake-up tomorrow morning to a Fiona that's beginning to feel better.

The past three days have been awful. Some of you may be thinking, "It's just a dog, Betsy!." Our pets are our kids. And look at that face. Now imagine her eyes swollen, red, pussing, and bleeding. No way you're thinking, "It's just a dog," now. That's my BABY.

Fiona's wind-blown look in the backseat.

If watching my dog be sick and in pain has been THIS hard, I can't even imagine what it will be like to have a sick human baby (we affectionately refer to our pets as our "babies"). Something about this seems much harder because she so small. Real babies are small. She's also cute as a button usually, and a total charmer. Obviously we won't know for a couple months (yes, I said a COUPLE months. Not a few, not several, a COUPLE), but I like to think L Bean will be cute as a button and adept at laying-down the charm.

Josh said to me this morning (via text after I had burst into tears), "Be strong for our baby." But it's HARD. I'm totally going to be the mom that cries when my baby gets shots. Maybe he'll be a total champ and not even flinch. I still think think I'll cry. And that first fever? Oh man. We'll cross that bridge when it gets here.

Keep Fiona in your prayers. I'm ready to get my sweet girl back.

Can't we snuggle first?

2010-06-28T09:10:00.002-04:00

I had an awesome conversation with a pregnant person whom I’d just met this weekend. She asked when I was due, and then IMMEDIATELY asked if I was having a natural birth in such an accusatory tone that I felt like I was twelve being scolded by my mom. Oh, um, hi, my name is Betsy. I have a husband, two dogs, and two cats. I like long walks on the beach and candle lit dinners. I DON’T KNOW YOU, why are you asking me this?

The 5+ seconds it took me to recover and muster-up an answer were not a big enough clue that I was a taken aback. I answer, and crack a joke (because that’s what I do when I’m uncomfortable) to the other (much less invasive) person sitting next to me. Laugh, laugh, laugh, avoid eye contact with invasive pregnant lady, and hope the conversation ends. “Well, I………..” Oh geez, I strap myself in for awesomeness. She goes on to explain IN DETAIL about how she wants to avoid a C-section (um, don’t we all?), how she WAS delivering at Henrico’s Doctor’s Hospital but NOW she’s delivering at MCV because HDH has SUCH a high c-section rate. She told me about her sucky old doctor who didn’t answer her questions and just wanted to get her in and out of his office, and raved about her awesome new mid-wives. There's more, but I'll spare you the onslaught. After she had unloaded her unsolicited fill, she asked, “So, where are you delivering?” DROP BOMB: Henrico Doctor’s Hospital. AWKWARD.

Does she back down? NO. She doesn’t even flinch. I explain that I love my doctor, and that I trust him. I tell her about how I’ve had an ultrasound every time I’ve gone in (and I’ve only been charged for two). OH REALLY?!?! Yes, my doctor is warm and fuzzy, he answers all of my questions, and I’ve never felt like he was rushing to get through our appointment. He also said he could deliver my anywhere in the area, but we decided HDH is closest and most convenient. And then I say something along the lines of, “How I deliver is out of my hands (as in, it’s in God’s hands).” WHAT?!?! “My delivery is out of my hands.” HUH?!?! “My delivery is in God’s hands.” OH. Conversation ends.

What is it about pregnancy that makes people poke and prod and offer copious amounts of unsolicited advice? The advice part isn’t so bad. Babies make people excited, and they want to help. I get totally get it. It’s when someone questions me in a competitive (almost accusatory), I’m better than you manner that makes me ANGRY. I prefer to be wooed prior to such invasive conversations. Maybe I’m needy, but can’t we just snuggle first?

To quote one of my favorite people, “She was so NOT awesome.”

I want a shirt that says:

I’m due in September.
I feel GREAT.
It’s a Boy.
His name is Liam Axel.
My birth plan is NOYB (none of your business) because I don’t know you.
Don’t touch, my husband bites.

Mondays make me cranky, can you tell? And we stayed-up WAY too late (11 PM, crazy) last night watching a movie. It was commercial free, score! Pregnant, tried, cranky, HOT Betsy- WATCH OUT WORLD.

Homemade Baby Food

2010-06-24T13:11:00.003-04:00

I ordered a book last week, and it finally arrived! I've been reading (and reading) about all things baby and toddler. The idea of introducing solid food is a little terrifying to me. What if my kid is a picky eater? Do I buy regular or organic? How much will it cost? How many ingredients does it have? What are the ingredients? When, how much, and for long? In what ORDER?!?!? Some foods are not good for young babies. Some foods are more prone to giving your baby gas. Some foods are more likely to induce food allergies if offered too early. Your baby has cues that indicate he's ready to try solids. Is my baby cuing me?!?!

It's a little overwhelming. I don't consider myself a crunchy mommy-to-be, but I think I'm going to embrace the crunch when it comes to this subject. How? By making our own baby food. I've asked around, and it's not as hard as it sounds. It's also not as terrifyingly time-consuming. You can make in bulk and freeze. Mr. H has even agreed to take-over in the heat of busy season.

I'm not sure how far we'll take it. I don't like the idea of making a separate meal for my kid, once he's old enough to eat what we eat. Luckily, the dinners I make are pretty kid friendly (read: uncomplicated in prep and taste). Right now, I'm concentrating on making pureed foods. I set-out to find a book that I could use as a guide. I found lots of books, lots of complaints about those books, and then lots of compliments about the same books. I decided on the this one:

I like it because it's user friendly and it has pictures. I only buy cookbooks that have pictures. I want to know what it's SUPPOSED to look like. It's divided by age group: 6 to 9 months, 9 to 12 months, and 12 to 18 months. The recipes are easy to follow and contain minimal ingredients. It also contains hints and tips for all things food-related, not just pureed food.

There's no question that, if it's prepared correctly, it's probably the healthier choice. I'm curious to know if it'll save us any money.

Obviously, the prices are going to vary based on state, store, frozen vs fresh, etc. I'm also not sure if the prices above reflect organic or regular baby food, as organic is likely to have a bigger price tag. And I pulled this table from a pro-homemade baby food website, so who knows if the results are 100% accurate. Either way, I do think it will save us money in the long run. Plus, I'll know exaclty what is going in to that precious little tummy.

Will it work for us? Who knows. But we're going to give it a shot.

Stating the obvious

2010-06-23T19:44:00.004-04:00

Picture this: It’s 8:30 am, and I’m at work. I’ve been at work since 7:15 am. I’ve had my daily cup of coffee, and I am willing my brain to shift into the “on” position. Okay, now that the scene is set, I get this: “Are you feeling okay today? You look really tired. You have bags under your eyes that I didn’t notice yesterday!”

First, thanks, dear Friend, for pointing-out the obvious. I’m going on a couple months straight of “fat days,” and now I’m self-conscious of my tired eye sacks. Its 8:30 AM on a Wednesday, so naturally I’m tired. Additionally, I’m cookin’ a BABY over here - no further explanation needed. I can literally FEEL the heavy bags under my eyes, so your reminder is unnecessary.

Second, something seems backwards to me. When I’m asked how I’ve been feeling, my response is usually, “Great. I’m tired all of the time, but otherwise I feel great.” If I get, “Oh, you’re just being prepped for the lack of sleep that ensues once baby gets here,” I’m going to slap someone (okay, not really. But I’ll picture it in my head and smile to myself). If I’m going to be a walking zombie for the first few weeks, then shouldn’t I be storing-up extra hours in my sleep bank NOW? I wish. Have I mentioned how much I love to sleep?

"They" say you get a boost of energy in the second trimester and some in the third trimester. LIES! I'm still waiting for that boost. I'm motivated and antsy to get stuff (anything) done, but I don't have the stamina. I feel the need to clean, organize, and simplify everything in our house. I suppose I'm nesting. At this rate, though, there won't be anything left for me to nest in a couple weeks.

Here’s a pregnancy Catch 22: You’re supposed to drink more water (which hasn’t been tough because we were already a no or rare soda household and water is our drink of choice). When you’re pregnant, your growing uterus engages in a constant game of Mercy with your bladder, and here’s a hint: the house (in this case, the uterus) ALWAYS wins. Cause and effect dictates that by drinking more water you’re going to pee more. But throw in an engorged uterus, and your bathroom trips are sent into OVERDRIVE. And P.s.: Don’t even try to gamble and wait just a little longer. I think you can figure-out what will happen.

Not that I’m complaining – Okay, I guess I am. But just a little – I love being pregnant, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I get cranky when I'm tired - just ask Mr. H (or my mom).

Ikea Success!

2010-06-22T21:28:00.004-04:00

We went to Ikea this past Sunday, and we came home with a car-full of bounty. Our biggest purchase was a bookcase for L Bean's room.

More on that blue square in the background later.

The pups "encouraging" alongside Mommy.

The finished product.

We're really pleased with the outcome. I can't wait to see it with stacks of children's books and toys! There are just a few things left to finish-up in his room, and then we're ready for baby! Eeek!

28 Week Bump

2010-06-22T21:13:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I feel like a caged animal.

2010-06-21T09:45:00.011-04:00

Sometimes I feel like a caged animal. I walk past people at work (or on the street or in a store), and I feel scrutinized. First, eyes fall to my belly as assessments of growth take place. Second, eyes rise to my chest, and I can literally see the brains processing, “Well THOSE have certainly gotten bigger.” I just hope the third isn’t a turned head as I walk away assessing other growth that’s taken place. I’m a private person. I prefer to keep my private life private, unless I decide to let you in. Currently, my body is giving-away my secrets! Drat, Body. What are you THINKING?! It would be really awesome if, for the first time in months, people would meet my EYES first. After that, feel free to make your assessments. At least you made me feel human for .389 seconds. Or, if you can’t manage that, learn to be more covert with your stares because I CAN SEE YOU.

You know what else is uncomfortable lately? Sleeping. Yes, the time has arrived where falling and staying asleep takes a lot of work and prayer. However, I’m not waking-up as often as I did in first trimester (PHEW). It’s tough to find a position where all parts of me are comfortable. That first night of back or stomach sleep will be so delicious.

Happy third trimester, L Bean! I oscillate between wishing the weeks away because I’m so ready to meet him and asking him to stay-in longer because I’m so not ready. We had a mini-road trip yesterday (we went to Ikea!). On the way home, Mr. H said, “I find myself wishing he’d get here already because I just want to hold him, but I feel like we should probably enjoy these last couple months because it won’t be just us for at least 18 years.” GULP. Well said, Husband. I can’t pin-point the current source of my anxiety and nerves. I think it’s mostly money. Babies are expensive. And we’re the first of our friends to have kids, so friendships are changing and will change. I want to make some mommy friends, but I’m not the best at making new friends. But we also have so much to look forward to. Yesterday, on that very same road trip, we talked about what we want to do next year for Mother’s and Father’s Days. Picnics at Maymont. Trips to the Metro Zoo. Kiddie pool in the back yard. And now when I walk into the nursery I can almost picture myself sitting in the glider with L Bean in my arms. Almost. It’s still hard to wrap my head around the fact that I’m going to be a mom. Most days, I still feel 16.

Latest milestone? Hiccups! I noticed them for the first time two weeks ago in a training session at work, and I’ve felt them every day since. Now I feel them multiple times during the day (like right now and in the middle of the night last night). They last 5 to 10 minutes. I can tell when he gets annoyed by them because he’ll start to twist and thrash.

I have a funny aside to share: Occasionally it literally feels like L Bean is trying to stick a foot out of my vagina. A few days ago, L Bean made such a maneuver, and I made some sort of heavy breathing or grunting noise that got Josh’s attention. He asked if everything was okay, and I explained what it felt like his son was trying to do with his foot. He simply replied, “Maybe he’s hot. You know how you stick your foot out of the covers at night when you’re hot? Maybe he just needs some air.” It makes sense. I know that I’m hot (ALL OF THE TIME), so L Bean must be hot too. Thanks for your infinite wisdom, Mr. H.

Ikea update coming soon! I also ordered a book that I am super excited about and can’t wait to share.

You're stupid crazy, wife!

2010-06-18T09:36:00.004-04:00

So, I’ve been hinting at some exciting projects that we have in the works for L Bean’s room (I realize that these may only be exciting for me and Mr. H, but indulge me and feign interest). I’m ready to share one with you! If I put it on the blog, my thought is that I’ll HAVE to follow-through with it, right? It has the potential to be time-consuming and annoying, but I know we’ll love the end result.

I read a blog called young house love, which is maintained by a young design couple in Richmond (when I first started reading the blog, I didn’t realize they were from Richmond. Fun surprise!). They published a post this week about a bookcase project in their guest room/office/playroom. I immediately fell in love and texted Mr. H. L Bean’s room is missing a place for books and toys, a kid’s corner of sorts. We figured a bookcase would be a great addition to the room. So that night it was decided.

I trolled the Ikea website for a bookcase and found one. I went back to the website the next day (because we all know I like to obsess) and found a better one. It’s 17 inches taller and four inches deeper. It also doesn’t have a back that we would need to remove (which removes the need to caulk the dark crevice left behind). Another perk is that the shelves don’t move, so we wouldn’t need to caulk the extra holes. Sold.

So what do we paint behind the bookcase? I was thinking stripes, but then I got bored with the idea. Maybe dots, and then I got bored again. I was cruising young house love, and I clicked-over to their dog’s blog. HELLO awesome symmetrical pattern! I fell madly in love with the two-tone blue pattern in the background of the blog. I asked Mr. H if he thought it was doable (I can’t draw AT ALL, so he’d have to draw the template), and he gave me a look. It screamed, “You’re stupid crazy, wife.” It’s true – I will likely HATE myself for choosing the pattern; but I think it will look fab when it’s finished, so I’m jumping in with both feet.

We’ll finish-off the bookcase with some baskets for toys and miscellaneous items (that I will obsessively pick-up off the floor and hide), a great vintage alarm clock (many a feeding will probably take place in the glider next to the bookcase), a lamp that matches his bedding, maybe some framed photo cards, and stacks of books. I can’t wait to see the finished product!

We both really want make the Ikea trip this weekend, but we have something Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights (I know, SHOCK AND AWE). I get tired from making my morning cereal, so we’ll see. Next weekend we’re also booked, so it would be July 4th weekend. That’s a long time to wait when you’re excited. And I want to ride this motivation train while I still can. I’ll keep you posted (HA! A little blog humor for you) on the status of the project.

Oh! Guess what came in the mail on Wednesday!

Stroller and Car Seat Dilemma

2010-06-17T08:27:00.003-04:00

Deciding on a stroller and car seat was the hardest baby gear decision we’ve made thus far.

Being the over-planner that I am, I’ve researched and read. I’ve asked around, trolled forums, and read review after review (I’ve found that the consumer reviews are hard to rely on, as some people will complain about ANYTHING). I’ve read every pro and con available online (I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to not have the internet for this, shudder). We want something safe, reliable, and durable. And because I’m a girl, I want something that actually looks good. I realize that “good” is totally relative. Josh and I think our brown walls look good, but you may think they’re boring. So if you think our stroller is ugly, SHUSH.

First dilemma: Brand choice. We decided on Graco. They’re safe AND pretty, SCORE.

Second dilemma: Full-size or the snap-n-go. We decided on full-size. I don’t want to be limited to just using the infant seat. Plus, I get all giddy and excited when I think about pushing-around a legitimate (read: you can’t miss this bad boy) stroller. It just screams, ‘I’M A MOM.” We may come to regret this decision later-on, but we shall see.

Third dilemma: Finding a Graco full-size stroller and matching infant car seat that we actually like. Enter our first trip to Babies R Us (did you know that babysrus.com and babiesrus.com will both send you to the correct website? Which is a good thing because I’m the idiot that’s been typing “babys” for months). There is a myriad of strollers and car seats on the website, but the in-store options were disappointing. As much as I wanted to touch, push, and collapse our future stroller, I wasn’t going to settle for something UGLY (I’m a GIRL. I tried, really tried, to get around this fact but it just kept coming back). So we looked at the Graco strollers, assessed what we liked and didn’t like, and then we set-off to internet land to pick our favorite. We decided on these:

Okay, so that was decided. Now, what about a jogging stroller? I added one to our registry, but do I REALLY need one? Let’s be honest here: How many times am I actually going to use it? First, I’d have to drive somewhere to use it. The sidewalk starts about a half mile away from our house, and you need to run on a very busy street to get there. And running through our neighborhood makes me feel like a hamster running on a wheel. Second, I’ll likely want running to be my time away from baby (no offense, Unborn Baby! I know you’re going to be awesome, but I also know you’ll cry, poop, and want my boob, A LOT). Third, pushing a running stroller sounds like hard work. What about good running form? And I’m not sure I can focus on that many things at once. So I’m removing the jogger from our registry.

Another stroller thought crept into my head today: What about a light-weight stroller? I blame it all on OmgMom because she put the thought in my head with this post.

When L Bean is bigger and stronger (read: he’s capable of holding his own head up), the infant seat won’t be necessary all the time. And there will be situations (like Short Pump Mall or traveling by plane) when navigating a full-size stroller will be a suicide mission (let’s be frank, folks – any trip to SPM is a suicide mission these days). I love the Chicco Liteway stroller OmgMom chose. And how cute is her daughter sitting in it with her ankles crossed?!? Triple SWOON.

So I guess the question is: Do we really need a second stroller (whether it’s a jogger or a light-weight) or am I just going stroller happy? The answer: I haven’t the foggiest.

UPDATE: I wrote this blog yesterday with the intention of posting today so you guys wouldn’t be thinking, “Holy geez, Betsy! One long blog a day is PLENTY.” Well, now I’ve had a night to sit and think (UH OH). I’m re-thinking the color scheme of the full-size stroller (read: I’m totally chickening-out of registering for something THAT colorful). Have I ever mentioned that I’m color-phobic? My wardrobe is full of solid, non-threatening colors. Half of our house is a shade of brown. Our cars are brown and white. And I just realized that even our DOGS are brown and white(ish). However, as I write this, my resolution is solidifying. I’m leaving the blue/green stroller. I AM LEAVING IT. I just can’t promise that I won’t continue to obsess over it.

Nothing comes between me and my baby

2010-06-16T09:57:00.005-04:00

My first real experience with babywearing was at a friend’s engagement party last year. Late Enough and her hubby (we’ll call him Hubby S) walked-in with their adorable daughter nestled comfortably in a sling. Even better - her hubby was the babywearer. Husbands wearing babies? SWOON.

Let me clarify something before I go any further: I’ve seen countless moms and dads carrying their babies in a Baby Bjorn (we inherited one of these bad boys – it’s the BMW of front carriers. And I’m sure we will put it to good use!) or in a fancy backpack that looks like it should be on the trails of the Himalayas. I consider those to be more baby carrying, and less baby wearing (okay, these are MY considerations. Wrong or right, they’re mine. Not yours). For me, there’s something more organic about wearing your baby. Of course, this becomes size prohibitive at some point.

Anywhobe, seeing Hubby S wearing little N Bean nearly caused my heart to explode. I vaguely remember nudging Mr. H and saying something along the lines of, “Awwwwwwwww.” Being the sensitive, baby loving man that he is, Mr. H replied with his own (more manly, of course), “Awwwww.” That’s all it took, I was hooked. Thoughts of “when I have a baby I’m toooootally wearing it 24/7” ran through my head for weeks. Well guess what?! I’m going to have one of those soon, so let the baby wearing commence.

The two babywearing options I’ve seen the most of are the wrap and the sling. You can buy one, make your own, are pay someone to make you one (think etsy.com). The one that interests me the most right now is the wrap (having said that, I want a sling too). I have a crush on the Moss Moby wrap and the Turkish Delight bb wrap (the last color square on the page). The Mody is made out of cotton, while the bb wrap is made from a woven material. I imagine the woven material offers more support, as the fabric has less stretch. But I have ever told you how much I LOVE stretch cotton (refer back to my proclaimed love of the stretch cotton v-neck t-shirt). Maybe we’ll just have to get both. The wrapping looks complicated and confusing, but others have managed to figure it out, so I have faith that we can too. For me, the draw of the sling is it just looks easier. Either way, babies like to be held close and swaddled tightly, so I’m thinking the wrap or the sling will be a hit. Plus, Mr. H and I are big snugglers. With two snuggler parents, L Bean is bound to get the snuggle gene (fingers crossed).

What do you do when your baby is strapped or wrapped to your chest or back? The answer is anything you want. Do the dishes. Clean. Snuggle on the couch and take a nap (obvi not if you've back wrapped!). Grocery shop. Mall Shop. Go to an engagement party with your hands free. Blog. Walk. Just be close. Um, sign me up!

27 Week Bump

2010-06-16T07:53:00.001-04:00

Doing-it-myself (and encouraging Mr. H)

2010-06-15T16:57:00.010-04:00

Happy 27 weeks, L Bean!

It’s hard to believe that my third (and FINAL) trimester is almost here. Time is flying. I’m excited to meet what I’ve been cooking for 27 weeks, but holy cow. Let me just reiterate – the third trimester is the last one. Did you know there’s only three trimesters in a pregnancy?!?!

We didn’t get much done this past weekend, but the ideas are still flowing. We have managed to start some projects, though. I’ve documented everything, of course.

I ordered these, and let me tell you how excited I am: SO FREAKING EXCITED. My only complaint is that there isn’t a zero month sticker, but I shall survive. I’m already day-dreaming of the frame collage in his room and monthly picture updates on the blog. I’m also excited to have something other than our pets to take pictures of with my fancy new camera. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE our babies. But I recognize that people don’t want to see a billion pictures of our pets. Pictures of babies, on the other hand, are universally adored. Even the snarling cartoon version of the church coordinator this past weekend (she was kind of evil, people) would enjoy pictures of a baby.

You know those fancy glass canisters with the chalkboard strip that you can buy for $15+ at Crate and Barrel or Target? Waste-o-money, my friends. We made our own. We purchased two jars from Michael’s for $3.99 each. We also got the can of chalkboard spray paint at Michael for $7.99. They will reside on L Bean’s changer and house Q-tips and cotton balls (babies need those, right?).

Josh used painters tape to mark the strip and protect the rest of the jar. He sprayed five costs of the chalkboard paint.

I started L Bean’s baby book. I saw the idea on a friend’s blog, and I immediately fell in love. I knew I wanted to do a baby book, but I didn’t want a canned, store-bought version. I also knew that L Bean wouldn't have a baby book if I didn't do the set-up pre-baby. I have the template downloaded and plan to spend some time tweaking it. So far, I’ve cut the backing paper and put in the pages. It resides on L Bean’s tall dresser waiting for the template inserts and pictures. I’ll get there eventually.

A trip to Ikea is planned in the near future. I’ve made a list (go figure!) of a few items that I want:

(1) Drawer organizers for L Bean’s dressers (in white). I saw a picture on one of the MANY blogs I read (which of course I cannot find today because my brain had a pregnancy fart and can’t remember ANYTHING) and the organizational freak within did a happy dance. I picture diapers, rolled-up blankets and onesies, socks, underwear, and so many other items nestled neatly into their cubbies.

(2) Venetian blinds for L Bean’s windows. The blinds currently on the two windows are the cheap-o ones what don’t block any light. We’re not big curtain people, so nice, thick blinds are perfect. I perfer to sleep in the dark, so I'm assuming babies appreciate it as well.

(3) A bookcase for L Bean’s room. There’s a sad, lonely space of wall that needs some bookcase love. The bookcase will be a good place to keep books (NO WAY), boxes/baskets of toys (I’m thinking the square version of the drawer organizer mentioned above), and any other random items that I will pick-up obsessively. And no, that part of me won’t go away when L Bean arrives because I’ll be too tired, numb, or could care less. Clutter makes everything (like focusing and falling asleep) nearly impossible. It also makes me cranky, and nobody likes a cranky Betsy, trust me.

Our plan is to get there early and leave quickly for two reasons: (1) I hate crowds, and (2) the amount of time spent at Ikea is directly related to the amount of money spent at Ikea.

We’ve got a few more projects on our list that I am super duper excited about, but there will be more about that later. For a couple, I need to learn a few things first (anyone know how to use a sewing machine?). For my favorite, we need a free weekend for painting, building, and more painting. Two things that I’m not much help with right now. But, as I’ve mentioned before, I am the BEST observer and encourager around.

Random thought of the day (moderate TMI warning):

I'm going to write a book about pooping during pregnancy. Think Eat, Pray, Love, but it'll be Sit, Wait, Hope.

And since our dogs have gotten some photo representation thus far, here's a picture of our youngest. SO HANDSOME:

I don't want to grow-up.

2010-06-14T12:10:00.007-04:00

I understand that I’m technically already a grown-up, with the marriage, the bills, the job, the house, and the baby on-the-way. But being grown-ups doesn’t mean that we have to GROW-UP, right?

Will there come a day when farting and “that’s what she said” jokes are no longer funny to us? Or when the underwear game (not THAT kind of underwear game. It’s a game I made up that Josh LOVES. I chase him around the house after a shower and deny him the chance to put-on his underwear) ceases to entertain? Or when I stop trying to make Mr. H (this is my new name for Josh – it’s all the rage on the blogs. See, I’m learning!) laugh, just because I LOVE his laugh smile?

Just thinking about it makes me sad. I don’t want to wake-up one morning and realize that there’s no child left in either of us. I cherish our inside jokes and made-up language(s). I love our semi-inappropriate nicknames (like “sugar butt” and “poopy”) and lying in bed giggling about nothing in particular. Maybe we’ll have to play the modified underwear game, and we’ll still giggle at farts – we’ll just have to explain that there’s a time and a place. It can be done, right?

I am reassured when I remind myself that these little things that we treasure are so much a part of “us” that they’ll never end. I want to laugh and joke and play until we’re 80 years-old. And in a more tangible future scope, I want to laugh and joke and play, just the three of us. Laughter adds so much to a home, that I don’t think a household can survive without it.

I’m thinking that if we hold-tight to who we are and what we love (even if it’s farting on each other), then we’ll be just fine. Just because we’ve suddenly realized that we’re grown-ups (of course, we didn’t suddenly become grown-ups. That’s a gradual transition. It just seems like you wake-up one morning and realize, “When did THAT happen?”), doesn’t mean we have to label ourselves as grown-up.

Thankfully, there are grown-ups in our lives that give me faith that our inner-children can survive. Grown-ups that laugh together with their kids on a daily basis. And we're not talking giggles - we're talking full-on belly laughter. I want that. And I think we just might be able to keep that.