I'm learning too see myself. Not in the look inside yourself, take stock of your emotions and make yourself a better person way. I mean I have learned to look at myself from different angles to really see my growing body.
Case in point: Last Friday Steven and I went to a movie and, naturally, I snuck in some chocolate. Back at home I took off my coat and:
STEVEN: What's that on your shirt?
ME: looking down Nothing.
STEVEN: No, there, on the bottom. It looks like melted chocolate.
ME: Where? pulling my shirt out so I can see it Oh, there.
STEVEN: Ha! It was under your belly!
So there you have it. My belly now has an underside. After every meal (and frequent snack) I have to check my entire shirt to make sure there's no food stains lurking under my ledge o' belly. Could I get any more disgusting?
Bump Photo - Week 21
The Longest Wait Ever
I had my monthly OB visit yesterday and I am just the teensiest bit frustrated. I actually saw my midwife for less than 3 minutes, and for that privilege I was kept waiting an hour. AN HOUR! Here's the timeline:
3:48 - I arrive a few minutes early, check-in with receptionist and take a seat in the waiting room. I very much would like to use the bathroom, but I can't because I have to save it for my urine sample.
4:05 - The nurse calls me back, drops me off at the restroom to produce my sample then weighs me. She puts me in a room, checks my blood pressure and leaves me alone with the door open.
4:10 - I get bored and begin flipping through Better Homes and Gardens. It should be noted that I don't give a damn about overly styled homes or gardens, but I refuse to read parenting magazines. I don't feel like being pressured to buy 8 different versions of a Fisher Price baby seat. I also don't want to feel like I am raising an idiot if my child isn't fluent in French by age 3.
4:50 - I have now read the entirety of Better Homes and Gardens. I now know: a table can be used for more than a table (a craft station? a nightstand? how shocking!); 'quick and easy' weeknight meals still look incredibly complicated; and that architecture can really affect the feel of your room - really? I never would have guessed that.
I feel like I have been here for a while, so I grab my phone for a time check. Indeed, I have been here for an hour. I had been growing more agitated, intentionally flipping my magazine pages RATHER LOUDLY so that anyone in the hallway can hear my frustration. Passive aggressive? Yes, my mother taught me well. Adding to my irritation I can hear some ladies chatting in the hall and having quite a good time. If you have time to chat you have time to tell me my midwife is running behind schedule.
4:53 - My midwife flies in, looking quite flustered, tiredly muttering an apology for my wait while simultaneously reading my chart, getting gloved up and putting her armful of stuff on the table. She explains she was called in to deliver a baby this morning, and how can I be mad at her? That's pretty much her job. I can only hope that when I am the one hee-hee-hoo-hoo-ing my way through a contraction my midwife won't turn and say "You're doing great, but I have to run back to the office for just a bit." I completely understand that the ladies in labor are the top priority.
4:56 - My midwife is out the door. The following was accomplished in my visit:
- Any nausea, vomiting or bloating? No, no and no.
- Are your ankles swollen? No.
- Let's listen to the heartbeat. It's fine.
- Any questions? Yes, I'll be flying to San Diego for a wedding next week. Anything I should know before I go? Drink lots of fluids and get up to stretch every two hours. I already knew that.
At least I have learned to schedule my appointments at the end of the day. It's awful when you're sitting around, learning how to make origami place cards or whatever, when you know you have to rush back to the office.
3:48 - I arrive a few minutes early, check-in with receptionist and take a seat in the waiting room. I very much would like to use the bathroom, but I can't because I have to save it for my urine sample.
4:05 - The nurse calls me back, drops me off at the restroom to produce my sample then weighs me. She puts me in a room, checks my blood pressure and leaves me alone with the door open.
4:10 - I get bored and begin flipping through Better Homes and Gardens. It should be noted that I don't give a damn about overly styled homes or gardens, but I refuse to read parenting magazines. I don't feel like being pressured to buy 8 different versions of a Fisher Price baby seat. I also don't want to feel like I am raising an idiot if my child isn't fluent in French by age 3.
4:50 - I have now read the entirety of Better Homes and Gardens. I now know: a table can be used for more than a table (a craft station? a nightstand? how shocking!); 'quick and easy' weeknight meals still look incredibly complicated; and that architecture can really affect the feel of your room - really? I never would have guessed that.
I feel like I have been here for a while, so I grab my phone for a time check. Indeed, I have been here for an hour. I had been growing more agitated, intentionally flipping my magazine pages RATHER LOUDLY so that anyone in the hallway can hear my frustration. Passive aggressive? Yes, my mother taught me well. Adding to my irritation I can hear some ladies chatting in the hall and having quite a good time. If you have time to chat you have time to tell me my midwife is running behind schedule.
4:53 - My midwife flies in, looking quite flustered, tiredly muttering an apology for my wait while simultaneously reading my chart, getting gloved up and putting her armful of stuff on the table. She explains she was called in to deliver a baby this morning, and how can I be mad at her? That's pretty much her job. I can only hope that when I am the one hee-hee-hoo-hoo-ing my way through a contraction my midwife won't turn and say "You're doing great, but I have to run back to the office for just a bit." I completely understand that the ladies in labor are the top priority.
4:56 - My midwife is out the door. The following was accomplished in my visit:
- Any nausea, vomiting or bloating? No, no and no.
- Are your ankles swollen? No.
- Let's listen to the heartbeat. It's fine.
- Any questions? Yes, I'll be flying to San Diego for a wedding next week. Anything I should know before I go? Drink lots of fluids and get up to stretch every two hours. I already knew that.
At least I have learned to schedule my appointments at the end of the day. It's awful when you're sitting around, learning how to make origami place cards or whatever, when you know you have to rush back to the office.
Bump Photo - Week 20
I apologize for my tardiness. We took the picture on the proper day, but I've just been too busy to blog it.
As you will see in my posts I have switched, almost entirely, to actual maternity pants. The belly bands were working well for a while but now I am more comfortable in my big-girl jeans. For me, the belly band has gotten to the point where it's either riding up in the back - crack attack! - or riding up in the front, exposing my fly in its unzipped glory. Don't get me wrong - those little miracles got me through the early days of 'too big for my pants but still too small for maternity pants' and I for sure will break them out again post-delivery to transition back to my pre-pregnancy state.
Sweater: thrifted, maternity
Beads: Target
Jeans: Old Navy Maternity
I also thought I would include this close up. Steven keeps taking zoomed in shots of my belly even though I tell him not to. Maybe he is overly proud of the visible fruits of his manly fertilizin' or maybe he just finds it funny. I'll never know.
Older Photos
Week 18Sweet Dreams Are Made of Tums
The dream lust is back, and this time my sleep-self has moved past attractive actor types. I am now, in my sleep, lusting after high-strength antacids. That's right, my heartburn is so bad that I often dream about the perfect over-the-counter, chewable staple of pregnancy.
For those of you not well-versed in the hierarchy of Tums, allow me to introduce you.
Original Tums: Brittle, chalky and available in mint and fruit "flavors" - if you can call pink and green chalk a flavor.
Tums Smoothies: a bit softer to chew, slightly less chalky, sweeter and available in exciting flavors such as Assorted Tropical Fruit, Berry Fusion and Cocoa and Creme.*
Tums with Extra Awesome (that I made up): tastes like Sweet Tarts with the soothing sensation of full fat ice cream.** None of the familiar chalkiness, so you don't have to chase them with a liter of water to get the grit out of your teeth. Also, it relieves heartburn the instant it touches your tongue. None of this waiting around crap.
Clearly I have issues. However, if you happen to know - or are willing to stalk - someone at the Tums Corporate Office, tell them to call me.
*See, it has the European spelling, so it must be good.
**Sweet Tarts as an ice cream topping! I think I'm on to something.
Story Time
In honor of today marking the halfway point of my journey, it's only fair to tell you about the beginning. I want to tell you the story of how all this got started.
Ew, not that story. I'm going to assume we all know where babies come from.
I want to tell you the story of the morning I learned I was going to be a mama.
October was the seventh month of trying. I'm not going to go into the science behind when we thought it was best to try. If you're particularly interested (i.e. trying desperately yourself) feel free to e-mail me and I will be happy to chat about what worked for us. For the first six months I was always convinced that 'this will be the month.' I over analyzed every little abnormality - Am I gassier than normal? I did cry for no reason today. Wow, I'm tired! - only to be knocked back to reality when Aunt Flo came to town. Flo, being a cruel mistress, even had the audacity to be 8 days late one month. Drama ensued.
In October we tried again but this time I told myself not to get my hopes up. Flo was a day or so late, but I tried not to get excited - she tends to be a bit unreliable in the punctuality department. By this point I had more than given up on taking a pregnancy test early* "just in case" and was still unsure.
SIDEBAR: Even before we started trying, I had always imagined how I would give Steven the good news. Something clever and funny, for sure. However, in the interest of not jinxing things, I refused to buy any supplies to this effect until I was actually pregnant. I just assumed I would wake up one day, get a positive reading then buy what I needed on my way home from work.
Morning of November 5 - I woke up for work, still no Flo, and my first thought was "Damn my boobs are sore." Even in my still-groggy state, a light bulb went off. Even in my worst times of PMS, the girls had always stayed out of it. This just had to be a sign. As I stumbled toward the bathroom I heard Steven on the phone with AT&T customer support. It doesn't matter why he was on the phone, but it does matter that he was distracted for 3-5 minutes.
I whipped out my pregnancy test and followed the instructions. I did my business, laid it on a flat surface and just stared at it. Even though the directions said to wait 3 minutes before checking it, I could already see a faint double line starting to appear. Still not wanting to get too excited, I brushed my teeth for the full 2 minutes (thanks electric toothbrush with built-in timer!) then glanced at my phone for a time check. It had been 3 minutes. It was now safe to look at my results.
I lean over my counter, and staring back at me is a positive pregnancy result**. I put my ear to the door and heard the silence of Steven not talking to customer support. I realized, in this moment, that there was no way I could wait to tell him, clever announcement be damned. No amount of cuteness could keep me from blurting out this good news. I walked out of the bathroom with the test tucked behind my back.
Me: Are you done talking on the phone?
Steven: Yeah, why?
Me: Because I have to tell you that I'm pregnant.
Hugging, smiling, etc.
I arrived at work at 8:30, as usual. At approximately 8:31 I realized taking a home pregnancy test on a workday was not a good idea. I'm pretty sure I didn't get anything done that day because all I could think about was my exciting morning.
Jump to today and I am still just as excited to be on this journey. Did any of you readers have the patience to plan some elaborate way to spill the beans?
*I have since decided that taking the test early isn't entirely helpful. Even though the box claims a positive reading is possible 5 days before you expect your period, there's often not yet enough of the hormone for it to read. In fact, for an ideal reading some women have to wait a week after the period is expected to have produced enough of the hormone. I think the test companies just put that on the box so you will test more frequently and buy more product.
**If looking at something I peed on grosses you out, please not I didn't pee on it. I peed in a paper cup and delicately dipped the strip into my 'sample' so as to not get pee everywhere. I hope you're happy Internet.
It's All Downhill From Here
As in, from now on I will be rolling downhill, toppled by my belly.
So far I haven't had any pain associated with pregnancy, just some mild discomfort as my ute' muscles stretch. Also, I find it pretty darn hard to get comfortable anywhere other than my bed.
All that changed last night. As I was sleeping, I was having a dream that I was peeing (but didn't actually pee in the bed, thank goodness!) and as part of the dream it seemed that there was something in my 'stream' - some sort of rope or string. I quickly realized that this rope had one end dangling out of my lady bits but the other end was anchored to the inside of my bladder. As my stream gushed forth in all its pregnant glory, the rope began to pull and hurt me.
Next I suddenly awoke, only to still be experiencing the same pain. Apparently one of my many pillows had wriggled away from me in my sleep and was no longer supporting my hips and belly as it was supposed to.
Nothing major in the pain department, but it was the first time I felt as though my belly could move independently of me. I try to keep the complaining to a minimum because I know this will be nothing compared to the 'miracle' of birth.
I guess the point to this post is this: I finally understand why I see women in their third trimester walk with their hands under their belly as if their hands are the only thing supporting it. I'm sure, in a few months time, I will be convinced that my baby's head will be down around my knees if I don't hold my belly up myself.
So far I haven't had any pain associated with pregnancy, just some mild discomfort as my ute' muscles stretch. Also, I find it pretty darn hard to get comfortable anywhere other than my bed.
All that changed last night. As I was sleeping, I was having a dream that I was peeing (but didn't actually pee in the bed, thank goodness!) and as part of the dream it seemed that there was something in my 'stream' - some sort of rope or string. I quickly realized that this rope had one end dangling out of my lady bits but the other end was anchored to the inside of my bladder. As my stream gushed forth in all its pregnant glory, the rope began to pull and hurt me.
Next I suddenly awoke, only to still be experiencing the same pain. Apparently one of my many pillows had wriggled away from me in my sleep and was no longer supporting my hips and belly as it was supposed to.
Nothing major in the pain department, but it was the first time I felt as though my belly could move independently of me. I try to keep the complaining to a minimum because I know this will be nothing compared to the 'miracle' of birth.
I guess the point to this post is this: I finally understand why I see women in their third trimester walk with their hands under their belly as if their hands are the only thing supporting it. I'm sure, in a few months time, I will be convinced that my baby's head will be down around my knees if I don't hold my belly up myself.
Cast Your Vote
I just love how women always seem to have very strong instincts in guessing the gender of someone else's baby. Well ladies, now's your chance to put your intuition to the test with my handy-dandy gender poll!
Now to add to the fun, here are the 'results' of some oft-cited Old Wives tales.
Carrying high or low? high Old Wives say... girl.
Craving sweet or sour? sour Old Wives say... boy.
Loads of acne? sadly, yes Old Wives say... girl.
Hubby gaining weight? nope Old Wives say... boy.
Pendant on a string? circle Old Wives say... girl.
Good hair, bad hair? good Old Wives say... boy.
Nose spreading? nope Old Wives say... girl.
Fetal heartrate? 135 Old Wives say... boy.
Craving fruit or meat? fruit Old Wives say... girl.
Chinese gender chart? Old Wives say... boy.
So, the Old Wives are split 50/50 on this one.
Old fashioned mother's intuition? Mama says... girl.
What do you think?
Bump Photo - Week 19
This photo marks a milestone because my bump is now distinguishable with my shirt still on. This makes me happy because, 1) it's cold! and 2) I don't know some of you that well, so I prefer to keep my nekkid-ness under wraps.
Shirt: Old Navy Maternity
Cardigan: Old Navy
Jeans: Ann Taylor Loft
Older Photos
Week 18
Week 17
And So It Starts...
Last night I got my first bit of unsolicited advice. I was getting my haircut and chatting with my stylist. She's sweet and I'm sure she means well, but she's 23, single and lives with her parents. She's not exactly who I would call if I needed parenting advice.
Helpful Tip #1
While you're still at the hospital, tell the nurses to start the baby on a 4-hour feeding schedule not a 2-hour schedule. It's just so much easier to get stuff done when you're not constantly feeding the baby.
Oh, really. So newborns don't need to be fed every 2 hours? Nurses just do that because it's fun! I'm pretty sure I'll feed my baby as often as she needs to be fed and listen to the advice of my midwife and/or lactation coach.
Helpful Tip #2
Don't get the baby used to drinking a warm bottle. Always give it a room temperature bottle. It's such a hassle to have to warm the bottle when you're half-asleep. If the baby never drinks warm formula it won't know the difference.
Again, I'm sure there's a good reason for giving a baby a warm bottle. People don't just create extra work for themselves for kicks. Plus, I plan on nursing my baby, you know, the old-fashioned way. I will only feed my baby formula if I can't produce enough milk on my own. I understand there are many reasons women end up using formula, and that is a personal choice. But when did it become assumed that women don't want to nurse? It seems like nursing is the default method and if that's not right for a woman and her baby then they move on to formula.
Prying Question #1
You're having it at a hospital right? [Yes.] Oh, good.
I am planning on delivering at a hospital, but not because that's the only acceptable choice. I looked into a home birth and a birthing center, but I ruled them out for my own reasons.
Home Birth - At first I was intrigued by the warm, almost romantic notion of a home birth. Delivering my baby with only my husband and a midwife, in the comfort of my own home. Putting my baby to sleep in her own bed and recovering in my bed with my husband by my side. Then I snapped out of it and remembered myself. As beautiful a miracle as it may be, childbirth is a messy, messy endeavor. I don't want to spoil the afterglow of delivery with the realization that I have just ruined my couch, carpet and mattress. I would much rather someone else clean up after me.
Birthing Center - I would love to deliver at a birthing center, but that's not an option for me. There are no free-standing birthing centers in my area. The next best thing is a Certified Nurse Midwife, but in my whole county (and in my insurance network) there is only one medical practice that employs midwives. Furthermroe, that one practice (that I ended up using) only delivers at a hospital. Because of the philosophy behind midwifery, a 'birth center experience' is possible but it will still be within the walls of a hospital.
But that is my personal choice. I would never judge someone for doing something else, nor would I assume there's only one 'normal' way of doing things.
I suppose what bothered me the most about this "advice" is that at the root the advice is not about making things better/healthier/happier for my baby. It is about making the baby less of an inconvenience to me. A baby is not an accessory. It is a tiny person and if you go into this thinking it's going to be easy, maybe you shouldn't be going into it. I'm all for taking shortcuts if it doesn't hurt anyone, but when it comes to putting food and nutrients into my baby, that's not something I'm willing to compromise on just yet.
Helpful Tip #1
While you're still at the hospital, tell the nurses to start the baby on a 4-hour feeding schedule not a 2-hour schedule. It's just so much easier to get stuff done when you're not constantly feeding the baby.
Oh, really. So newborns don't need to be fed every 2 hours? Nurses just do that because it's fun! I'm pretty sure I'll feed my baby as often as she needs to be fed and listen to the advice of my midwife and/or lactation coach.
Helpful Tip #2
Don't get the baby used to drinking a warm bottle. Always give it a room temperature bottle. It's such a hassle to have to warm the bottle when you're half-asleep. If the baby never drinks warm formula it won't know the difference.
Again, I'm sure there's a good reason for giving a baby a warm bottle. People don't just create extra work for themselves for kicks. Plus, I plan on nursing my baby, you know, the old-fashioned way. I will only feed my baby formula if I can't produce enough milk on my own. I understand there are many reasons women end up using formula, and that is a personal choice. But when did it become assumed that women don't want to nurse? It seems like nursing is the default method and if that's not right for a woman and her baby then they move on to formula.
Prying Question #1
You're having it at a hospital right? [Yes.] Oh, good.
I am planning on delivering at a hospital, but not because that's the only acceptable choice. I looked into a home birth and a birthing center, but I ruled them out for my own reasons.
Home Birth - At first I was intrigued by the warm, almost romantic notion of a home birth. Delivering my baby with only my husband and a midwife, in the comfort of my own home. Putting my baby to sleep in her own bed and recovering in my bed with my husband by my side. Then I snapped out of it and remembered myself. As beautiful a miracle as it may be, childbirth is a messy, messy endeavor. I don't want to spoil the afterglow of delivery with the realization that I have just ruined my couch, carpet and mattress. I would much rather someone else clean up after me.
Birthing Center - I would love to deliver at a birthing center, but that's not an option for me. There are no free-standing birthing centers in my area. The next best thing is a Certified Nurse Midwife, but in my whole county (and in my insurance network) there is only one medical practice that employs midwives. Furthermroe, that one practice (that I ended up using) only delivers at a hospital. Because of the philosophy behind midwifery, a 'birth center experience' is possible but it will still be within the walls of a hospital.
But that is my personal choice. I would never judge someone for doing something else, nor would I assume there's only one 'normal' way of doing things.
I suppose what bothered me the most about this "advice" is that at the root the advice is not about making things better/healthier/happier for my baby. It is about making the baby less of an inconvenience to me. A baby is not an accessory. It is a tiny person and if you go into this thinking it's going to be easy, maybe you shouldn't be going into it. I'm all for taking shortcuts if it doesn't hurt anyone, but when it comes to putting food and nutrients into my baby, that's not something I'm willing to compromise on just yet.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
Men often joke that they think their wives have been body-snatched during pregnancy. "Who is that farting, snoring woman sleeping next to me?" they ask themselves. With the morphing body, mood swings and increased gaseous emissions it's no wonder men start wondering "Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"
Here's the secret thing men don't joke about: women are just as baffled by the body snatching as they are. Things are radically different and sometimes we have no idea why.
As I progress in my pregnancy, I am realizing that my body is no longer my own. I am merely the landlord of a short-term lease and I am at the whim of my tenant.
This morning I got out of bed at the usual time. Peed. Ate breakfast. Peed. Laid out my outfit for the day. As I was about to step into the shower I suddenly felt faint and sat back down on the bed. Then, like a ton of bricks, I was hit with a wave of exhaustion. So tired I almost cried at the thought of getting dressed and going to work. I tried reading a bit but that only made it worse. I had no choice but to take an hour-long nap, a mere hour after waking up. It didn't matter that I have a job and that I have shit to do at said job. My body wanted sleep and it wanted it NOW.
After my nap, I felt fine. I got up, peed, showered, dressed, peed and went to work like nothing was wrong, only I was an hour and a half late. Luckily my boss is cool and I can more or less set my own hours.
Of course, this is only a preview to being at the whim of a screaming, pooping baby so I better get used to it.
Here's the secret thing men don't joke about: women are just as baffled by the body snatching as they are. Things are radically different and sometimes we have no idea why.
As I progress in my pregnancy, I am realizing that my body is no longer my own. I am merely the landlord of a short-term lease and I am at the whim of my tenant.
This morning I got out of bed at the usual time. Peed. Ate breakfast. Peed. Laid out my outfit for the day. As I was about to step into the shower I suddenly felt faint and sat back down on the bed. Then, like a ton of bricks, I was hit with a wave of exhaustion. So tired I almost cried at the thought of getting dressed and going to work. I tried reading a bit but that only made it worse. I had no choice but to take an hour-long nap, a mere hour after waking up. It didn't matter that I have a job and that I have shit to do at said job. My body wanted sleep and it wanted it NOW.
After my nap, I felt fine. I got up, peed, showered, dressed, peed and went to work like nothing was wrong, only I was an hour and a half late. Luckily my boss is cool and I can more or less set my own hours.
Of course, this is only a preview to being at the whim of a screaming, pooping baby so I better get used to it.
Such A Good Day
In addition to this week's bump photo, I feel like I have so much to share today!
Last night I had my first 'bump encounter.' I was at a meeting, talking to a friend when I removed my heavy coat. As soon as she saw my little bump she said "Aww" and reached out to touch it. Almost as quickly as she reached, she pulled her hand away and her expression said 'Ooh, that might be creepy. I won't just grope her.' Of course, since she's a friend I wouldn't have been offended and would have even been flattered that she wanted to cop a feel. But I know where she was coming from and I give her props for the restraint.
This morning after eatingmy third a doughnut I distinctly felt the peanut move for the first time! Over the past week there have been two or three occasions where I thought I felt something, but I definitely felt something today! It was the strangest thing. It didn't feel like gas, like some have said, it just felt like part of my tummy had wiggled. Ooh, as I'm writing this, I just felt it again! And again! This baby really likes it when I write about her!
This afternoon I had my third ultrasound, this time a Level 2, and I got to watch my little wiggler on the screen for almost an hour! I brought my Mom with me and she just loved watching her little grandbaby squirming around. The ultrasound technician said that this baby was quite a gymnast and was a wee bit uncooperative. The peanut started out standing on her head then finally rolled around mid-way through my exam. A Level 2 ultrasound is very technical - looking at kidneys, the heart, the brain, etc. We saw perfect little fingers and toes and even caught a glimpse of the peanut waving at us!
Last night I had my first 'bump encounter.' I was at a meeting, talking to a friend when I removed my heavy coat. As soon as she saw my little bump she said "Aww" and reached out to touch it. Almost as quickly as she reached, she pulled her hand away and her expression said 'Ooh, that might be creepy. I won't just grope her.' Of course, since she's a friend I wouldn't have been offended and would have even been flattered that she wanted to cop a feel. But I know where she was coming from and I give her props for the restraint.
This morning after eating
This afternoon I had my third ultrasound, this time a Level 2, and I got to watch my little wiggler on the screen for almost an hour! I brought my Mom with me and she just loved watching her little grandbaby squirming around. The ultrasound technician said that this baby was quite a gymnast and was a wee bit uncooperative. The peanut started out standing on her head then finally rolled around mid-way through my exam. A Level 2 ultrasound is very technical - looking at kidneys, the heart, the brain, etc. We saw perfect little fingers and toes and even caught a glimpse of the peanut waving at us!
The tech gave us a print out of the latest glamour shot, and isn't that just the cutest little blurry face you've ever seen? Seriously I could babble about this ALL DAY. I was doing great until the tech asked me to turn my head away so she could check the baby's sex organs. She knew I didn't want to know the gender, she just wanted to make sure the baby's junk was A.OK.
But here's my secret: deep down, I really, REALLY want to know if this baby's a boy or a girl. It's Steven that is really gunning for the surprise. I was so tempted to find out, but I knew he would be disappointed in me for caving in. My problem is if someone else knows something, I want to know it too. The tech made it very clear that if I wanted to know the sex they could tell me. AACK! So I left without finding out, but just knowing someone else already knows is K.I.L.L.I.N.G M.E.
We've invited some of Steven's work friends to come over for the Superbowl and I am very excited to have people over to the house. Most people are bringing their young kids, so I will get some 'practice' time this weekend!
Bump Photo - Week 18
What The F%@& Is That?
Picture it: I'm sitting at my desk and my nose itches. I reach up to scratch and I feel a stray hair. I pull at it and I realize it's attached. TO MY NOSE!
I easily pull it out, and it is so short and blond I doubt anyone else has noticed it, but HOLY CRAP!
I had been told that hair growth would ramp up in the second trimester. I fully expected to grow thicker, darker hair in places that already grew hair - legs, eyebrows, etc. I was not prepared to start growing hair in formerly bald parts of my body. I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS!
I easily pull it out, and it is so short and blond I doubt anyone else has noticed it, but HOLY CRAP!
I had been told that hair growth would ramp up in the second trimester. I fully expected to grow thicker, darker hair in places that already grew hair - legs, eyebrows, etc. I was not prepared to start growing hair in formerly bald parts of my body. I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS!
me
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