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| Not me |
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Dropped it like it's hot
Baby dropped in the middle of the night! It felt like a bowling ball sinking into my pelvis (ohhhh sweet baby if you ever read this, you are SO much cuter than a bowling ball - even those swirly marble-looking ones), and I was almost immediately sure of what was happening. Today's 37 week OB appointment confirmed it. My checkup showed definite progress and that things are right on track. Baby K is on his way :)
Monday, July 18, 2011
. . .But it's a dry heat . . .?
A wise man once said, "Resist to blog whilst in bitchy mood." Since that guy will never know pregnancy, he can kiss my now "outie".
In my own defense, it's been some time since my last hormone-driven verbal lashing. I make no apologies for the negativity and idiosyncratic interpretation of my day that follows.
Don't get me wrong - there were some major highlights. I got to see my good friend Jenna, meet her new puppy, and have lunch with our friends and my former co-workers, Susan and Jaime. I hadn't seen them since my baby shower, and it was great catching up and laughing, as we always do when we're together.
Then, afterward, as I started running some errands, it hit me. By "it", I of course refer to the mother-loving, sopping HEAT that sweltered around me like a blanket of soaked washrags. Whatever drizzle that's been looming miles and miles away has impacted our desert landscape, making it feel like the Serengeti swamplands. I wanted meet every person that moved to Arizona because of the "awesome" weather, sit down with them, slap them across the face, stand up and walk away. By the time I arrived at the bank to cash a check, I was sweating from the inside, makeup melting down my face like a sad clown, my hair thrown up into a ponytail - a sticky firecracker stuck mid-explosion. I waddled into Bank of America and could just FEEL that this was going to take forever. It was then that I felt a spike of hot hormones rush throughout my body, my alter ego powerfully taking over - claws out and eyes narrowed.
Shit, here we go.
There were four people standing in line when I arrived. Minus one point for me. Each of the three bank tellers were seemingly busy attending to customers, but the longer each of them took (and the stronger the lava flow of hormones seeped through my veins), the more skeptical I became that transactions of any kind were taking place at all. Thoughts: "these tellers are sersiously just having a staring contest with their computer screens"; "Oh, hope you enjoy that nail-biting game of solitaire you must be playing behind that desk, because your customer has been standing in front of you for 5 MINUTES AND NOTHING'S BEING DONE"; "Yeah, look up at me. I'm pregnant, that's right, but no no, please - take your time. I LIKE standing in one spot, shifting my weight back and forth to lessen the severe swelling that is currently turning my feet into small boats. Toes are supposed to resemble smokey links." It was then that I noticed my fellow bank patrons, eyeing me up and down. I could FEEL them about to start asking me when I'm due, boy or girl, am I ready, is it hot out, or what?! etc. etc., and mentally begged the universe to apply a momentary cone of silence to their inquisitive butts (yes, I realize I will soon miss the days when people fawned over my belly and cared enough to ask about me. I appreciated it yesterday, and I'll adore it tomorrow. But today is a whole 'notha talk show. Uhhnnkay?)
In my attempt to hurry things along, I began to fan myself with the check to be cashed. Vigorously. 'Flap-flap-flap-flap'. Good. The louder the better. I felt like it was my duty to call attention to the abominable pace at which this establishment operated. People would notice me, huge and sweaty, the poor thing. The five of us in line would band together among the zig-zagged rope and demand that I be seen at once. I was atop somebody's shoulders as a slow-clap applause crescendoed around me when I snapped out of my daydream.
"Next!"
I was called up to the counter, greeted by a lovely girl, had my check cashed and was out the door in two minutes. Less interested in acknowledging the pleasant and timely transaction and more interested in continuing to feel sorry for myself, I forfeited any remaining errands and headed straight to the homestead, where I threw on some comfies, drew the blinds closed, blasted the AC, flopped onto the couch and treated myself to an extra popsicle. You know, for being so patient.
All jokes aside, the heat has most definitely been the one and only element of the pregnancy that has caused me distress (I guess the nosebleeds get second billing here, too). However, I know that as soon as I'm holding our little bundle in my arms and caressing his sweet face, the temperature will become a forgetful footnote in the story of our journey. Everything else has been fabulous, truly. I see my OB tomorrow for my 37 week visit, and plan to continue doing the two things I enjoy the most until he gets here: rest and nest. :)
In my own defense, it's been some time since my last hormone-driven verbal lashing. I make no apologies for the negativity and idiosyncratic interpretation of my day that follows.
Don't get me wrong - there were some major highlights. I got to see my good friend Jenna, meet her new puppy, and have lunch with our friends and my former co-workers, Susan and Jaime. I hadn't seen them since my baby shower, and it was great catching up and laughing, as we always do when we're together.
Then, afterward, as I started running some errands, it hit me. By "it", I of course refer to the mother-loving, sopping HEAT that sweltered around me like a blanket of soaked washrags. Whatever drizzle that's been looming miles and miles away has impacted our desert landscape, making it feel like the Serengeti swamplands. I wanted meet every person that moved to Arizona because of the "awesome" weather, sit down with them, slap them across the face, stand up and walk away. By the time I arrived at the bank to cash a check, I was sweating from the inside, makeup melting down my face like a sad clown, my hair thrown up into a ponytail - a sticky firecracker stuck mid-explosion. I waddled into Bank of America and could just FEEL that this was going to take forever. It was then that I felt a spike of hot hormones rush throughout my body, my alter ego powerfully taking over - claws out and eyes narrowed.
Shit, here we go.
There were four people standing in line when I arrived. Minus one point for me. Each of the three bank tellers were seemingly busy attending to customers, but the longer each of them took (and the stronger the lava flow of hormones seeped through my veins), the more skeptical I became that transactions of any kind were taking place at all. Thoughts: "these tellers are sersiously just having a staring contest with their computer screens"; "Oh, hope you enjoy that nail-biting game of solitaire you must be playing behind that desk, because your customer has been standing in front of you for 5 MINUTES AND NOTHING'S BEING DONE"; "Yeah, look up at me. I'm pregnant, that's right, but no no, please - take your time. I LIKE standing in one spot, shifting my weight back and forth to lessen the severe swelling that is currently turning my feet into small boats. Toes are supposed to resemble smokey links." It was then that I noticed my fellow bank patrons, eyeing me up and down. I could FEEL them about to start asking me when I'm due, boy or girl, am I ready, is it hot out, or what?! etc. etc., and mentally begged the universe to apply a momentary cone of silence to their inquisitive butts (yes, I realize I will soon miss the days when people fawned over my belly and cared enough to ask about me. I appreciated it yesterday, and I'll adore it tomorrow. But today is a whole 'notha talk show. Uhhnnkay?)
In my attempt to hurry things along, I began to fan myself with the check to be cashed. Vigorously. 'Flap-flap-flap-flap'. Good. The louder the better. I felt like it was my duty to call attention to the abominable pace at which this establishment operated. People would notice me, huge and sweaty, the poor thing. The five of us in line would band together among the zig-zagged rope and demand that I be seen at once. I was atop somebody's shoulders as a slow-clap applause crescendoed around me when I snapped out of my daydream.
"Next!"
I was called up to the counter, greeted by a lovely girl, had my check cashed and was out the door in two minutes. Less interested in acknowledging the pleasant and timely transaction and more interested in continuing to feel sorry for myself, I forfeited any remaining errands and headed straight to the homestead, where I threw on some comfies, drew the blinds closed, blasted the AC, flopped onto the couch and treated myself to an extra popsicle. You know, for being so patient.
All jokes aside, the heat has most definitely been the one and only element of the pregnancy that has caused me distress (I guess the nosebleeds get second billing here, too). However, I know that as soon as I'm holding our little bundle in my arms and caressing his sweet face, the temperature will become a forgetful footnote in the story of our journey. Everything else has been fabulous, truly. I see my OB tomorrow for my 37 week visit, and plan to continue doing the two things I enjoy the most until he gets here: rest and nest. :)
Monday, July 11, 2011
No red lights on this Kaplan Journey...
I had another OB appointment today. Belly is measuring to the centimeter for 36 weeks along. For those of you reading this who are fascinated with the intricacies of pregnancy, that means my belly should measure one centimeter for every week of gestation. 36 weeks = you guessed it, 36 centimeters (count dracula voice): "36! That is 36 centimeters! ahh. ahh. ahh." He continues to be active enough for the OB nurse to still comment at each appointment. As if I needed her confirmation - the little bugger pushes up into my ribcage whenever the spirit moves him. Also, he responds to his name whenever I call it out in the same, high-pitched intonation and cadence that I have been since at about 5 months . . . . but before you shake your head in amazement at the wonder of prenatal bonding, you must know he also kicks when I ask Josh if he DVR'd House. Or when I think of food. Or get the mail. Or breathe.
Anywho, Josh and I are totally ready for our little booger to get here. The OB gave me a sheet today, detailing signs of labor, when to call the office, and when to ditch the phone and just get our tushies to labor and delivery. My first thought upon her handing me the sheet was, "Ok. They only give this paper to women who are going to give birth in the next few weeks. So . . . after deducing my own length of gestation, considering the derivative of Pi and the current direction of the wind . . . .THAT'S LIKE, ME."
What I actually said was, "Oh wow! We're getting really close, then! HAHAHAHA!"
Adrenaline turns me into a sideshow.
Aside from all that, life in the Kaplan household continues to be filled with excitement and amazing quality time with my hubby. Josh is adjusting to his promotion at DexCom beautifully and is already doing a great job in his new role as District Business Manager. I like to think I'll have the same title here at home after Baby arrives :)
On the hormone front, I've maintained a pretty decent balance between zen centeredness and sweaty meltdown. If I want to avoid the latter, I need nothing more than to avoid the preview for Disney's Winnie the Pooh movie (in theatres July 15th). Every time this preview comes on TV and I see the gang parade through the Hundred Acre Wood, I go from sane watcher of prime time to a sniveling, sobbing ball of "ugly cry", rubbing my belly as I rock back and forth and bumble through tears about how "my baby boy is growing up TOO FAST!" Josh bites back a smile, a result of the amusement that only comes from the looniness of an expectant mother.
As the title of this post states, there are no red lights on the journey of pregnancy and impending parenthood. Time ticks away, I get bigger, our little bundle grows, plans are made, the sun rises again and things just keep truckin' along. But despite the fact that our Kaplan Journey has been "full speed ahead" since the day we first saw his little heart thump, I have taken great care to plant my own "Yield" signs along the road. Opportunities to slow down, take in our surroundings and the blessings we've been given; really look, listen, and breathe in each phase of this pregnancy, so as to bottle it up in our hearts forever.
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| 35 weeks, 5 days, horizontal stripes, baby. |
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Coming in for a landing!! And, heartburn.
Today marks my 35th week of carrying the little booger, and all systems are still a healthy "go". That isn't to say, however, that there haven't been a couple pit stops along the way. Let me be more specific: a couple of NASTY, ick, please-don't-let-a-picture-accompany-this-post pit stops.
Besides charlie horses and heartburn, the pregnancy has been pretty seamless. Our precious bundle lets me know he's always around via kicks, shoves, and shimmies, and all my doctor's appointments have been par for the course (don't I sound like such a pro at this). However, the past week presented me with a new - and quite scary when you're not prepared for it - symptom: nose bleeds. I had one at the beginning of last week, and was told by my OB to alert her if I had another. Last Friday night, on the coat tails of absolutely nothing, my nose began to bleed like the rivers of Capistrano (or, if my husband was writing this, "the bleed was more significant than average"). I ran over to the kitchen sink while Josh unraveled half a paper towel roll to be promptly lodged under my nostrils. At this point, attempting to pinch my nose to stop the bleed would have been about as effective as Captain Murdoch feverishly tossing buckets of water off the Titanic. So we went to Scottsdale Healthcare.
The medical staff was quite wonderful and helped to keep me as calm as possible. I was hooked up to a monitor to check on Baby, who was rollin' around, clearly having no clue as to what was going on inches above the surface (ah, to be young). I'd been bleeding for a couple hours, and after everything checked out with Baby, I was sent down to the ER. It was at this point that the bleeding began to cease, so the physician could get a good peek. Long story short, I had a "rhino rocket" (look it up) put into my nose and was sent home at about 2:00 am. I made it about 14 hours before I started to panic with that thing in my nostril (my breathing was extremely restricted). Josh was supportive of taking it out, and the doctor had stated that it was perfectly fine to remove it when it became too much. I have since felt a lot better, but need to see an ENT doctor tomorrow to hopefully find the source of the bleed and figure out if it needs to be cauterized (you weren't eating dinner right now, were you?)
Other than THAT, Josh and I have made our final preparations for Baby K's big arrival!! We have everything we need (haha, like I know), and watching Josh assemble all of the baby's jumper-bouncer-boingie things has been such a treat for me. He's going to be the best dad. Our hospital bags and 85 more lbs of things we won't need are packed up by the door.
The whole thing feels like a surprise party: the decorations are up, lights are off, Chex Mix poured, guests hiding behind the wet bar . . . . we're ready, and all that's left is the grand arrival of the birthday boy. :0)
Besides charlie horses and heartburn, the pregnancy has been pretty seamless. Our precious bundle lets me know he's always around via kicks, shoves, and shimmies, and all my doctor's appointments have been par for the course (don't I sound like such a pro at this). However, the past week presented me with a new - and quite scary when you're not prepared for it - symptom: nose bleeds. I had one at the beginning of last week, and was told by my OB to alert her if I had another. Last Friday night, on the coat tails of absolutely nothing, my nose began to bleed like the rivers of Capistrano (or, if my husband was writing this, "the bleed was more significant than average"). I ran over to the kitchen sink while Josh unraveled half a paper towel roll to be promptly lodged under my nostrils. At this point, attempting to pinch my nose to stop the bleed would have been about as effective as Captain Murdoch feverishly tossing buckets of water off the Titanic. So we went to Scottsdale Healthcare.
The medical staff was quite wonderful and helped to keep me as calm as possible. I was hooked up to a monitor to check on Baby, who was rollin' around, clearly having no clue as to what was going on inches above the surface (ah, to be young). I'd been bleeding for a couple hours, and after everything checked out with Baby, I was sent down to the ER. It was at this point that the bleeding began to cease, so the physician could get a good peek. Long story short, I had a "rhino rocket" (look it up) put into my nose and was sent home at about 2:00 am. I made it about 14 hours before I started to panic with that thing in my nostril (my breathing was extremely restricted). Josh was supportive of taking it out, and the doctor had stated that it was perfectly fine to remove it when it became too much. I have since felt a lot better, but need to see an ENT doctor tomorrow to hopefully find the source of the bleed and figure out if it needs to be cauterized (you weren't eating dinner right now, were you?)
Other than THAT, Josh and I have made our final preparations for Baby K's big arrival!! We have everything we need (haha, like I know), and watching Josh assemble all of the baby's jumper-bouncer-boingie things has been such a treat for me. He's going to be the best dad. Our hospital bags and 85 more lbs of things we won't need are packed up by the door.
The whole thing feels like a surprise party: the decorations are up, lights are off, Chex Mix poured, guests hiding behind the wet bar . . . . we're ready, and all that's left is the grand arrival of the birthday boy. :0)
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