Twenty Seven Weeks

When I first found out I was pregnant, I could hardly wait until the next week when I would be even further along in pregnancy, and I couldn't wait to update the blog with my latest pregnant news.  Now, I feel like I'm looking around for the breaks, begging time to slow down just so I can fit everything in.  This week is big for us - we close on our new house on Thursday and we move in on Friday.  I can't believe that at this time next week, I'll be living in a new house, sleeping in a new room, and cooking in a new kitchen.  Not to mention my new and unimproved commute.  Still, it will be a good change, although I am completely nostalgic about leaving downtown and this house in particular.  Since I moved in, however, I don't know that I've ever stopped complaining about the house or holding my breath because it seems like the house falls apart on an annual basis - but wait, don't tell that to our buyers.  I just chalk it up to the joys of home-owning and I'm sure that will carry forward to our new place - the endless list of things to fix, paint, repair, decorate or mow.  But now that we're leaving our little downtown abode, I've been remembering all the great memories.  Jeff proposed to me on our front porch.  That's where we lived when we planned our wedding and our first home together as a married couple.  It's the only house Maverick has ever known and I've spent countless summer days and nights sitting and reading on our front porch. 

I know, I know...We've got a lot of really great memories in store for us at our new place.  Objectively, I'll be glad when we've finally gotten rid of our place downtown and I know the memories will never leave.  Still doesn't make me want to leave it though.   

In any case, the frantic packing has started.  When I started getting our place ready to sell back in June, I was just getting into my second trimester and the bump was nonexistent.  Now, at almost twenty-eight weeks pregnant, I'm encountering a whole new set of challenges, such as whether I will be able to stand upright after bending over.  Still, I'm feeling great and the baby seems to get more active by the day. 

So, here we are at twenty-seven weeks.  Like I said, this kid seems to grow more active by the day.  I've become fascinated with watching my stomach.  It seriously looks like a scene out of Alien.  Jeff tells me that he half-expects some drooly, slimy monster to come poking its head out.  I suppose in some interpretations of that, he's probably right.  I kid, I kid, sort of.  I actually expect this kid to be born knowing how to run, flip and karate chop.  Actually, this week, he's as big as a head of cauliflower, and almost sixteen inches from top to bottom.  He knows how to blink, suck, and breathe.  His lungs are almost completely developed.  And, amazingly, he's weighing in at two and a half pounds.  I remember that I couldn't believe all of that was going on inside, but based upon what I'm seeing and feeling, this kid is definitely making his presence known. 

While moving and moving-related concerns have topped my list, I'm actually getting anxious to get into our new house so I can start decorating and setting up the baby's room.  I have been woefully negligent in purchasing furniture or any baby-related items, mostly because we haven't had any room.  That will change shortly and I can't wait to create a home for my tiny heavyweight.  I think I'll be able to rest easier knowing that I actually have a crib to put him in, and clothes for him to wear.  I know he probably won't care too much, but I will! 

Twenty Six Weeks (Alternatively Titled: Please Don't Let Me Give Birth to Justin Bieber)

I had started to write a post last Friday, but of course, work got in the way and so now I'm carving out a little time to write on Monday.  Jeff is out of town until Wednesday at a work retreat, so I have the house to myself yet again.  And I have plans!  Although they're not exciting.  I'm going to get some boxes and start packing up our stuff.  We haven't had any house showings or requests for the past week, so I'm assuming that it's all over and done with and I can start boxing up our things for the move next week.  Holy crap, it's next week.  I was reading a few of my posts from this past summer and I started laughing when I read one that said I wanted to get everything done in June so I could relax in July and August.  What was I thinking?  Somehow I didn't have time to relax.  I can't believe how fast these two months have gone by and in two weeks' time, summer will be officially over and we'll be residents of Plymouth.  I am anxious to start working on the baby's room, though.  I think I'll feel a lot more calm once that task is completed.   

I signed up for day care last Friday as well.  I know some of you may think that I'm just a nut case, but when I went up to the center and asked about their infant vacancies, I was told that the waiting list extended out to March, so I was lucky to get a spot.  I told Jeff this was a sign that sometimes my hyper-organization comes in handy. 

We also had a visit with Duckie last week and I took the glucose test for gestational diabetes.  I passed with flying colors and celebrated with a Nutter Butter Blizzard.  As a side note, I could write a whole post about my dedication and love for these treats - they're like a little slice of peanut butter heaven.  In any case, Duckie told me that the baby is doing well and so is his mama.  Duckie says I'm a rock star and I told Jeff he should start treating me like one - for example, fawning all over me and screaming with adoration when I enter the room.  I know it sounds weird, but I keep expecting all these road blocks to get thrown up during this pregnancy.  It's taken us so long to get here and I'm continually amazed that nothing has gone wrong yet.  Seriously, every doctor's visit is an answer to a prayer and I just can't believe how blessed we've been so far.  Perhaps its time to let go of the "doomsday attitude."   

I spent the weekend doing mundane chores - I went to the grocery store at 7:00 in the morning on Saturday because I was awake and bored.  I went to the pool on Saturday afternoon for some sunshine and reading, although I didn't get much done.  Whenever I am in a public place, I find myself observing the children.  I've spent a large portion of my summer comparing and contrasting boys and the girls.  People probably think I'm a total pedophile, but it's actually helped me understand, in some respects, what it will be like to be the parent of what is sure to be an overly rambunctious little boy.  For a while, I thought I was getting out easy - that I'd never have to fight with my child about how low pants should ride on the waist.  This theory was shot out of the water when I realized that belting your pants around your butt cheeks is still fashionable to some.  Then, I was pleased because I thought we'd never have to fight about how much make-up to wear, what hairstyle was appropriate, or how low cut the top should be.  But then, I realized that those are all potential fights I could have with this little person because he will be his own individual.  And he might not like the Polo shirts and madras shorts that I want to put him in.  And then I got really scared - what if this little man turns out to be Justin Bieber?  That thought scares me more than anything.  That I would be the mother to a seventeen year old pop superstar who traipses around with the Selena Gomezes of the world.  Not to mention that he would be a multi-gazillionaire.  How do you parent a child like that?  I probably couldn't give him an allowance.  So, I pray every night that I don't give birth to the next Justin Bieber.     

So, this morning I made Jeff take updated pictures of the bump because again, I think it grew by leaps and bounds over the weekend.  We're finishing out our second trimester and heading into the last leg of this journey and I'm so excited.  I feel great, for the most part.  I do have the occasional (okay, constant) aches and pains but overall, I feel great heading into the home stretch.  So, here we are at the tail end of the second trimester:

 

Jeff decided to turn it into a photo shoot, and requested that I give him "a little sexy" as well.  This was the result:

After seeing this picture, Jeff told me that it really says something that my best "sexy" pose is Sally O'Mally from Saturday Night Live.  You know, "I'm FIFTY! I can KICK, STRETCH, and I can KICK.  I'm FIFTY!"  If you don't know what I'm talking about, just Google it. 

This week, the baby is as big as a cucumber and weighing in at over two pounds.  He's an active one, let me tell you.  His kicks have gotten so strong that they actually move my shirt and you can see them from the outside, as opposed to just feeling them.  I can also report that I did make Jeff put his head on my belly to see if he could hear the baby's heartbeat (see posting from two weeks ago) and I will tell you that I don't think he put forth his best effort.  He did say that he could hear lots of moving around in there but couldn't specifically identify a heartbeat. 

At this point in the process, the baby will just continue to get bigger and bigger.  And I will too.  His hearing and taste buds continue to develop.   Jeff and I were both over eight pounds when we were born.  I don't know if that really has anything to do with how big this one will be.  Regardless, we're rock stars right now and I'm betting we can keep it up for the next thirteen weeks and three days.  Not that I'm counting or anything.   

Twenty Five Weeks

Again, so much has happened over the last three days, some times its a blessing to just come to work and focus on that for a day.  First off, we did accept an offer on our house.  We had the inspection last night, and I'm waiting to hear from our agent, and unfortunately, I feel as though I'm expecting a laundry list of items that need to be fixed/repaired before the potential buyers will actually front any money.  I'm being pessimistic, I know that.  And besides, I told our agent that based upon the concessions we made on the purchase price, unless there's a safety issue, I'm not fixing a thing!  What you see is what you get...

In any case, our agent told us to keep accepting showing requests for the house.  So, we had the inspection last night, and a showing from 6:30 to 7:30.  I took Maverick for a walk, went to the grocery store, came home and went over to my neighbor's to sit on their porch, waiting for the showing to be over.  Well, at 7:30, they STILL hadn't shown up, and it was past my "feeding time" so I went home, got into my pajamas, made dinner, and was watching a NCIS rerun when there was a knock at the door - at 8:30!  It was the 6:30 appointment, wanting to see our home.  Well, I must have made quite the impression - the pregnant, braless wonder, shoveling food into her mouth.  Still, I let them in, and went and sat on our porch until they were finished looking at the house.   

We have more house showings today, and so I'm in the office for a half-day.  I told Maverick that he was going to Downtown Dogs today, and he looked so forlorn, I almost didn't take him.  In fact, getting him into the car this morning was a chore, because he sat down and refused to move.  I don't know why he didn't want to go.  In any case, this is what his reaction was this morning when I told him about today's plans:

I think he was looking forward to a long day of sitting in his chair. 

Jeff has been in New Jersey since Wednesday.  He gets home on Sunday, and I am so excited to see him.  He went out for a deposition, but extended his trip so he could see his family and friends.  He's currently fishing with two of his old high school buddies.  Must be nice...

In other news, my grandpa continues to improve...slowly.  I'm headed out there this afternoon to take my grandmother shopping.  She needs a new cordless phone because, apparently, my grandpa dropped theirs in the toilet and it broke.  She also needs to go to the grocery store.  Tonight, I've got some friends coming over for dinner and then we're going out to see "The Help."  I read the book last summer, and I'm really looking forward to seeing the movie as well. 

And, lest you think I forgot, here we are at twenty-five weeks:

I am still fitting into my pre-pregnancy jeans, and believe it or not - they still button!  The baby is moving all over all the time, and it's really a surreal feeling.  He woke me up on Tuesday night, and kicked me for a solid hour before I was finally allowed to go back to sleep.  According to my "What to Expect" book, the baby is now two pounds, and approximately 9.2" in length.  Last week, he was the size of an eggplant, and this week, I guess he's just the size of a bigger eggplant.  And, I can't believe how fast he's growing - it took him about twenty one weeks just to weigh a pound, and he's doubled that in the last four weeks.  He can differentiate between light and darkness and apparently.  And, I can test this theory for myself by shining a flashlight on my stomach.  Again, I have yet to test this theory.  His brainwaves are in full gear now, and can actually respond to noises and sensations, including the light in the uterus phenomenon.  My girlfriend, Cristin, told me that when she was pregnant, her baby would poke her, and she would always poke him back.   

As a side note, I went to the dentist this past week for a teeth cleaning (a new, improved dentist!).  I read a few weeks ago, that in addition to my regular OB/GYN check-ups, it's also important to maintain eye and tooth health, thus an eye appointment and a trip to the dentist to check for prenatal gingivitis!  Well (and stop reading now, because this might be too much information for some!), my hygienist was gorgeous.  He could have been a stand-in for Ryan Reynolds.  And, getting your teeth cleaned is not exactly glamorous, and neither is being six months pregnant.  Regardless, I was on my best behavior until, mid-way through my cleaning, I sneezed.  And I tinkled in my pants.  Not an all out breaking of the flood gates, mind you.  So, I was absolutely mortified in front of Ryan, who I'm sure had no idea what was going on, and wondering why this nice (dare I say attractive?!?!)  pregnant woman was about to cry and was turning red in his chair, but the point is - I peed my pants.  I allowed the cleaning to resume and I slithered out of there, grateful I don't have to go back for another six months.  Ah, the inevitable joys of pregnancy.       

Twenty Four Weeks (well, almost twenty five)

I apologize, gentle readers, for not getting an update out last week beyond my crazy-lady rampage.  Life kind of gets away from you sometimes, and it's hard to find a moment to sit down and write about it all.  Anyways, my grandpa had a stress fracture in his hip - he doesn't know how it happened, it's just one of those things, I guess.  In any case, he was having a lot of difficulty last week, and I took him for an MRI and he ended up having surgery on Friday.  He came through like a champ.  The doctor put in a plate and five screws, and he was at Fairview Southdale for the weekend and he came home yesterday.  So, the week was spent shuttling back and forth from my grandparents' place to the hospital, and back home again.  

In other news, we finally got an offer on the house!  It's not as high as we had hoped, but then again, I'm not sure they ever are, huh?  In any case, we countered the offer early yesterday morning and we're still waiting to hear back.  At least they didn't flat out reject the counteroffer, so I'm hoping this will end in a mutually beneficial manner.   

And yesterday, a package arrived from Grandma Terry (I'm not sure what the baby will end up calling all the grandparents, but this will do for now) and I have to post a picture of what she sent.  I have been alternating between screaming and cooing with how cute these boots are:

Seriously, how can you stand it?  Those wittle booties are so cute!  I told Jeff last night that I'm going to put the baby in the boots and dress him up like a bear.  Jeff answered, "You mean, like for Halloween, or something?"  And I said, "No, just on a Tuesday when I feel like it."  Which has spurred a whole new set of fears in my husband.  I will treat this child like a doll and play dress-up, resulting in him wearing all sorts of ridiculous outfits.  He's probably right, you know.  I already have an outfit in my mind where he's dressed like a sailor, and another one in a fancy suit for Christmas.  But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself...Regardless, Grandma Terry has great taste and these boots are just killing me.  

I've also started to put together the baby's room, at least in my mind's eye.  We have only three weeks before we move into the house and getting the nursery ready is priority number one.  I picked out the bedding a few weeks ago, and this arrived in the mail:

 

This picture is informative for several reasons.  First of all, I guess you can tell we've named Baby Storms, based upon the fact that I have now gone insane and monogrammed something.  So, we're calling him John Robert Storms.  We will call him Jack, for short.  We picked John because, frankly, it's the only name we could agree on and we both loved the nickname "Jack."  We chose Robert as the middle name in honor of Great-Grandpa Storms and Uncle Chris.  The last name, Storms, kind of comes with the territory.  And, as Jeff points out, we got two of the Kennedys in one swoop, so the kid must be destined for greatness.  Secondly, this picture shows the colors for the nursery that I've picked out.  I've decided to go with a nautical theme - navy, white, and red.  Jeff wanted a Winnie-the-Pooh theme, but never did any research on putting together ideas.  But, maybe I can find a Pooh dressed like a sailor or something.  We'll see. 

And finally, here I am at twenty-four weeks (almost twenty-five, I guess) modeling yet another gift from Grandma Terry:

I am terrible at self-portraits and I need to start making Jeff take these from now on.  But still, the shirt has a lot of room still, but it's nice to wear, especially in August.  And, I'll be able to grow into it and wear it until my delivery day, so expect to see a lot more of this shirt.  I've been feeling really great, and I've had lots of energy.  Jeff saw my belly last night and commented on how big it was.  Uh, thanks buddy.  According to "What to Expect" my uterus is the size of a soccer ball (I don't know what size though) and Jack is the size of an eggplant.  He's almost two pounds and this week, he's working on developing his lungs.  His skin is also developing some pigmentation and his blood vessels are filling out.  I also read that you can hear his heartbeat through my stomach now, if Jeff put his ear to my soccer ball sized belly.  I would if I could, but alas I'm not that flexible and I am, of course, pregnant.  I have yet to try this experiment. 

We have our glucose screening appointment on Monday to test for gestational diabetes.  We also meet with Duckie for just a general check-up.  I'm nearing the end of my second trimester now, and so my appointments will become more frequent in the third trimester.  Fortunately, we will be living just down the street from my doctor's office, so that will become very convenient. 

*Update:  My terrible attitude from last week must have carried over into this week.  The potential buyers decided not to put up a counteroffer on the house, and wrote me a letter about it.  In talking this over with Jeff, he suggested we write them a letter and explain all our reasons for not accepting their low-ball offer.  When I said I'd get right on that, he kindly offered to write the letter.  Because, as he put it, you'll probably just yell at them.  Whoops.  Time to find some serenity.  Stat. 

Is it me?

I don't know if I'm especially apt to anger these days because I'm chock-full of hormones, if the weather is making me cranky, if the universe is paying me back for something, or a combination of all three, but I feel like I'm about to haul off and go postal on just about anyone who rubs me the wrong way. 

Here is the list of some of the things that have pissed me off over the past week:

1.  I made an appointment for a teeth cleaning today.  I went to the dentist, sat in the waiting room for fifteen minutes, and then asked the receptionist when I could expect to be seen.  I was told that the hygienist was just turning over her room, and would be right with me.  I was told the same thing when I asked fifteen minutes later, and again fifteen minutes after that.  So, after forty-five minutes of waiting, I may have pitched bit of a fit.  But, this was only after I told them that I didn't have all day to sit and wait to get my teeth cleaned.  The receptionist then told me that the hygienist probably wouldn't have time to see me that day and I should reschedule.  I told them they weren't the only provider that billed by the hour and they should expect to see a bill for my services and the time I wasted sitting around in their lobby.  Yes, I made a small scene but I don't think I'm sorry that I did.  Needless to say, I don't think I'm going back to Metro Dental. 

2.  Because I had made my appointment over the lunch hour, I didn't eat.  I don't know if this happens to any other pregnant ladies, but when I don't eat at my regularly scheduled feeding times, I get cranky.  As evidenced by the tantrum I threw in the dentist's office.  So, all I wanted to do was go back to my office and eat my lunch.  But, the skyways seemed to be jammed with members of the Hugeass Tribe.  I don't know if anyone else has noticed this phenomena, but there seems to be an influx of women, walking two or three across in the skyways, ambling as slowly as possible, and taking up the entire skyway, making it literally impossible to pass in either direction without turning sideways and flattening yourself against the wall.  I know I'm being bitchy, but I would appreciate it if the Tribe would consent to give people a passing lane. 

3.  On Sunday night, I cooked corn on the cob.  I pulled the lid off the pot and put it in the sink.  I guess I didn't let it cool down enough because when I went to rinse the glass lid, it exploded in my sink.  As a result, tiny shards of glass got stuck in my garbage disposal.  I spent a good hour on Sunday night, trying to clean it out and make the disposal work again, but it didn't happen and I had to call a plumber.  I had to because we're selling the house, and I couldn't fix the problem.  So, the plumber came today, and charged me $175.00 for twenty minutes of work.  Literally.  That just makes me sad.  He's probably really mad when the dentist makes him wait since he charges $525.00 an hour, I guess. 

4.  I'm having other issues at work, that I won't really get in to.  I have problems with people not meeting their deadlines, or doing a half-assed job on assignments which, in turn, causes me to scramble.  I will say this though - in the month of July, I had twelve depositions scheduled.  Of those twelve depositions, not one deponent showed up for the examination.  This is a huge waste of my time.  That being said, not only did these witnesses fail to appear, but they LIED about why they didn't show up.  I don't know what that's about because first of all, I'm not stupid.  Second of all, I'm not going to give up because someone didn't show for their deposition.  And, when we finally get to your deposition, I'm going to ask you why you lied. 

5.  Up at the cabin, I got attacked by a zillion mosquitoes and have bug bites on every surface of my body.  They itch and make me cranky. 

Okay, so enough complaining.  It just seems to be an accumulation of tiny little issues that have been setting me off and snowballing into the next issue.  As Jeff is so fond of telling me, I need to find some serenity.  It also makes me mad when he says that. 

*Update:  I just got off the phone with my mom and went through all the things that have angered me over the day, and when we were saying good bye, I started crying.  Dissolution into insane, sobbing mess = crazy, hormonal pregnant lady.