Have a nice trip; see you next fall

Today was my 30 week visit to the OB, complete with his last ultrasound photoshoot 'til he arrives on the scene in August. I would have been counting down the mintues to dote over my little guy on the big screen, but as it happened, I got to see him swishing around only 5 days earlier, when I was admitted to the hospital.... (pan to a  flashback, caption: "5 Days Earlier")....

I am leaving my workplace after putting in a long day. Upon leaving the building, my foot caught a hole in the ground covered by grass, leading to a mother of an ankle roll and subsequently collapsing to the ground. It's amazing what the mind is capable of processing within a moment's time. In the voice of James Earl Jones, "Ohhhhh, F&#*!" slowly resonated through my inner ear as I accepted my immediate fate. Purse, appointment book and laptop bag skidded down the parking lot as my body gave out, lurched forward and was stopped only by my hands hitting the pavement before anything else. Within a few minutes, a coworker ran outside and ushered me to the nurse's office. Shaking, crying, and rubbing my belly, I hardly noticed that 911 had been called and the four burly EMTs jogging into the office with a well-practiced cadence. My vitals checked out just fine, and although I knew that I was going to be a-ok, I was instructed by my OB to go to the hospital to get the once over.

Josh met me on the OB floor, where I was admitted for a few hours. As expected, everything turned out just fine, and I was able to get an extra ultrasound out of it (mua hahaha). The best part was that Josh was able to be there for the ultrasound, as he was out of town for this morning's appointment.

I thought I would be limping around all Memorial Day weekend; luckily enough, however, I felt fine by Friday morning, when Josh and I hit the open road for a trip to Coronado Island. It was a vacation we planned months ago, something we consider a "last hoorah" before our lives are blissfully changed and we are on the clock at all times. As we had hoped, the weekend was perfect; relaxing, on no particular schedule, and simply ours. Remember my maternity bathing suit post? Yeah, I got to wear it, and I'll tell you, I felt kind of cute. Our friend Aura was in town for a pilates convention, so we had the opportunity to have dinner with her and catch up. It was a real treat for us as she and her husband Rick live on the east coast, so seeing them happens not nearly as frequently as we'd like.

Which takes us to the here and now. My ultrasound this morning went very well. To date, BabyK measures 3 lbs and 10 oz, which puts him in the 68th percentile for size. He was a little stubborn showing us anything but his boy parts, which were on display like the Hope Diamond. His little face was nuzzled into my hip, so we didn't get a great mug shot, but from what I can tell, and elimiating any bias whatsoever........he's the most gorgeous human being I've ever laid eyes on.

Coronado Beach....7.5 months pregnant



The journey continues, full speed ahead

Friends and family,

Since I know you're all refreshing the website at spastic intervals in hopes of a brand new entry appearing, voila! You may now sleep restfully. :)

The biggest news as of late has got to be my resignation from work. Although the position was very rewarding, and I will miss seeing some of my co-workers on a daily basis, it had become the right time for me to focus on the little booger's impending arrival, as well as allows for even more quality time with Josh. My last day is June 3rd. I will be licensed to practice therapy come summertime, and although going back to the workforce will be the last thing on my mind for awhile, it is good to know that I will have my LAC (licensed associate counselor) upon returning to the working world.

The extra time will also help me to prepare for the baby shower, though not much planning is required on my part (thank you for this, mommy and mom #2). They are organizing what I know will be a fun and fabulous way to celebrate BabyK! We have already started to receive gifts in the mail, and it's incredible to see our home slowly transform into a nest for 3. With every kick, I feel more and more ready to hold him in my arms.

Being almost 29 weeks, I continuously gauge my "nearness to the end" by how others respond to how far along I am. Comments range from, "Wow, that's coming up soon!" to, "Oh ok so you still have a little ways to go". Splitting the difference, I safely assume that I'm heading somewhere in the ballpark of "home stretch".

In nursery news, it is almost completely finished! The only things left to do are put in his book/toy shelf and hang his name letters on the wall. After utilizing our favorite handy-guy to do literally all the work on the nursery, Josh and I definitively agreed upon painting the letters ourselves, so that something was done by Mommy and Daddy. Well, besides bringing him into existence.
He has 50 years to thank us for that.




One piece, two piece, red piece, blue piece.

Today does not mark any milestone in my pregnancy. It is not the baby shower, nor is it the day I experienced my first Braxton Hicks contraction. I already had my glucose testing earlier in the week, and have another couple weeks to go until the next ultrasound. Nope, nothing categorically momentous about this day. Except for one thing.

Today, I am going to shop for a maternity bathing suit.

The prospect of this day has been floating around in my mind since the first sign of my uterus's Extreme Makeover, Home Edition and having to contort like something out of Zumanity to shave my legs. Briefly considering each of my existing two-piece suits, then laughing as I shoved them to the back of my drawer (or was I crying?), I understood what needed to happen.

I have three more months of pregnancy. With the clock counting up to the most incredible moment of our lives, and counting down the days we are just "the two of us", Josh and I have scheduled a small weekend getaway trip to Coronado Island at the end of the month. Needless to say, there will be lots of beach time. Needless to say, I'll be wearing a bathing suit for this recreation. Needless to say, hot damn, I'm going to be huge.

Now, I am by no means sitting here lamenting my changing body and proclaiming a "poor me, I am soooo fat" campaign for compliments. I LOVE my changing body; it is fascinating to me, and I thank it every day for knowing how to house and grow our precious gift. On the cuteness scale, pregnant bellies are right up there with kittens wearing snowshoes. All I'm saying is that bathing suit shopping is no particular treat without child, let alone with one. Can I get an "Amen, sister"? More than all else, I just hope that an innocent dip in the pacific doesn't result in Jaws mistaking me for a baby seal.

Ooh, baby seals. Pregnant bellies are as cute as those, too.

Anyway, things have been going very well in the pregnancy; I am almost 7 months along! As I stated before, I had my glucose testing earlier this week. The results came back within 24 hours, and I am happy to report that I am all clear for gestational diabetes. Baby's heartbeat continues to be strong, and I go in the day after Memorial Day for the next ultrasound - my 30 weeker! I will be seen by the OB every two weeks thereafter until I am finally holding him in my arms (the baby, not my OB).

Just as noteworthy, my friend Shannon, who has a freakishly adorable 7 month-old of her own, invited Josh and me to her new house to take home almost an entire boatload of baby stuff (have I thanked you again in the last 10 minutes, Shannon?) We got to visit with her little angel, Suri, and she took to Josh right away. He really is a natural. We also got to peek into the life of a new parent. If Josh and I hold it all together half as well as Shannon does, we'll be sitting pretty.

The past week has also presented me with my very first Mother's Day. Upon waking, I found a beautiful bouquet of vased flowers in the kitchen and a heartwarming card from my sweet Josh. We spent the entire day together, cleaning the house and literally making room for baby. Space has been cleared, and my mind's eye fades in and out the images of all the bottles, burp cloths, toys, diapers, that are to inhabit these spaces within months. My heart races. Later on, we joined our families for a fun Mother's Day dinner at Macayo's.

As my pregnancy progresses, I feel an acute understanding of and appreciation for my own mother and her history. It's funny, that as each phase of my life presents itself, I can then truly tap into what it must have been like for Mom during those same phases of her life; all of her stories take on a brand new relevance. It has opened my eyes and gifted us with some significant and heatwarming conversations. And just wait 'til the baby's actually here! I predict many phone calls with a sleepless me crying to her, "I had no idea I did this to you!".



:)

 
                         



 


                                          

Rhymes with Bormonal

I have now finally reached the point of the pregnancy where my hormones control my life. Today has been a prime example, as I felt frustrated, on the verge of tears, hungry, not at all hungry, and like I could punch a full grown man.

Case in point: grocery shopping.

Before heading to the gym, I needed to make a grocery store run. And I was tired. After personifying the abusive heat outside, just so I could call it names, I made my way into Fry's Marketplace, because we don't have a Sprouts, Trader Joe's OR Whole Foods near the house (hormones still wearing off, I guess). Shuffling down the aisles, I loaded up my cart with the enthusiasm of a disgruntled toll booth worker. Thoughts: "Ugh. It is so bright in here."; "Ugh. Michael McDonald music."; "Ugh. People."  The first hormonal tidalwave came as I noticed a man pushing his cart down my aisle, in the same direction and almost parallel to my speed. OH. MY. GOD. These people are like flypaper. I wanted to snap at the guy for his audacity and disregard for personal space. So naturally, I sped up then abruptly slowed down my cart speed, just to break his bad habit and really show him what's up. And God help the woman who was later staring me down from across produce. Ok, so she was most likely looking PAST me to check out the 2 for 1 special on Rice Krispies, but that's beside the point. I felt like a hunk of pregnant underneath an overly-bright, crowded, sweaty circus tent, with Michael McDonald as the ring master.

Breathe deep, Heidi, and pick a checkout lane. That's it. As I negotiated the crowds and attempted to stake my claim at the end of a good line, I see that every option I have is behind someone who is clearly preparing for armageddon. Thoughts: "Really. 12 bottles of cranberry juice. Either you are obsessed, or you have bigger problems and ouch, good luck to you"; "Really. You NEED all of those chicken wings."; "Really. Dayquil? Really. REALLY."

It was at this point that I realized I was veering into the left lane of crazytown. Choking up, I grabbed my cell and called Josh to bring me back.
"Hi, honey."
"(sniff sniff) Hi baby."
"What's the matter?"
"Are you patronizing me? It sounds like you are."
"No sweetheart, I'm just being calm for you. Now what's wrong?"

Like always, his words of support and a little bit of normalization did the trick. "It's just the hormones, baby" is still dancing in my ears. Thank you, sweetheart.

Now don't look at me.

It's hot. I'm big. Waa.

The past week has been chock full of activities, fun with friends, and of course, two very news-worthy events: the Royal Wedding, and the announcement of Osama Bin Laden's death (in yo face).

Being the angel child that I am, I went over to Mom's house Thursday night around midnight to join in the Royal Wedding festivities from across the pond. Toting hand-made British flags and eating biscotti (I know, not English fare, but at least the right continent), we watched history take place (and simultaneously judged each church hat with the propriety of the Housewives of Atlanta). Mom and I watched the affair from 12:15am - 4:05am, when my eyes finally rolled into the back of my skull and I couldn't shake the concept that if I was sleep deprived, then somehow, so must be the baby. Who needs Benadryl when a heaping teaspoon of maternal guilt can do the trick?

It was during the ceremony - I think just before William smushed the ring on Kate's finger and after Harry stared down his future sister-in-law as she walked down the aisle - that my mom realized something pretty spectacular: in 1981, my parents watched the wedding of Prince Charles and Princess Diana as it happened, just as we were now, on this early morning (adorable, I know, but that's not the spectacular part). What's amazing is that at that moment, my mom was as far along in her first pregnancy as I was while watching this wedding with her. Like, to the day. First pregnancy, having a boy (my brother, Andy), and watching the Royal wedding. And there we were, fast-forward almost 30 years later. A very special occasion, indeed.

In other news, it's hot out. Temperature has taken on an entirely new importance now that I'm carrying a person. I have gotten mixed reactions from other desert dwellers when they find out my due date: "August, eh? Wow, that wasn't planned very well"; "Oh August, that's perfect because it won't quite be that hot yet" (HUH?); "August? Well you won't be leaving the house at all for the first three months, anyway";  "August is a great month because I was born in August."

After some hearty and time-consuming research, I have found that the most effective way to combat the Arizona heat is by way of frozen yogurt. I take the responsibility very seriously, so as to not go into heat stroke and scare the baby. Weekly self-serves to replenish my inner cooling system seem to help reduc- aw hell. The fact is, I loves me some ice cream.

Josh and I have had a full and fun week. In addition to a book reading by David Sedaris, seeing the movie The Conspirator (pass), and a Diamondbacks-Cubs game, this weekend we went to ASU's Gammage Auditorium to see Billy Elliott, which was ranked one of the top - if not the top - musical of the year (or so said the "Billy Elliott" trailer parked outside the auditorium entrance). The show was very good, but slow at parts. By and large, the true redeeming quality of this show was the child actors, who were nothing short of brilliant in their dancing and overall performance.

As I watched Billy twirl and leap around the stage like he was born to do nothing but, I couldn't help but think about my sweet bundle. Who will he be? What will he like, what will he try, and what will be his calling in life?

Before I was pregnant, I never really understood when mothers-to-be said that they couldn't wait to "meet the baby". Meet the baby? For God's sake, you're creating him as we speak, he's IN your BELLY. Isn't meeting him a bit of a rewind from where you're at already with the booger? Now I get it. He is his own entity just as much as he is a part of me right now. His development is God's handywork. His spirit is his own, and that concept both boggles my mind and excites me beyond belief.

And I just CAN'T WAIT to meet him.

Yes, please.