The Past 40 Weeks

When I went into labor, it was like I had this song on mental repeat.  It's a bit moody, but yet oddly, I think it fits.
 

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Things she says

Things that I should have blogged about while pregnant, but never got around to doing:

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Lola:  "I wonder if the baby will have pink cheeks like me and Daddy, or if he'll have brown cheeks?  I think he's going to have brown cheeks."

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Lola: What's he wearing?
Me:  Who?
Lola: The baby.
Me: Oh, he's naked right now. There are no clothes in the uterus.
Lola:  I think he needs to put on some clothes.

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Lola:  "I hope my baby brother's Daddy likes my Daddy."

(!!!!)

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And, a video of Lola explaining the function of cervix and how babies are born:

Yes, I am a Crazy Pregnant Lady

Last weekend, we flew down to San Diego. This, in and of itself, is not crazy. However, given that I was 37 weeks pregnant, I knew there was the possibility that I could go into labor and risk being 500 miles away from home with a newborn baby. (And that, I think, might qualify as crazy).

Luckily, the baby decided to remain in utereo for the duration of the trip.  (I believe this might be his first attempt to earn "favorite child" status, to which I say, keep it up kid.)

While we were in San Diego, my sister Louanne, almost-sister-in-law Therese, and dear friend Amy, threw a baby shower for us.

Even though the weather was very non-San Diego (hot! humid!), it was wonderful to see so many friends and family members. I felt incredibly loved knowing how many people traveled down to San Diego just to spend the afternoon with me and the Duck.

My mother-in-law Dawn and sister-in-law Andrea drove out from Palm Springs.

Myself with Liz, Andrea, and Amy.

The next day, Josh and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary. It was an extra special anniversary because we attended the wedding of our friends Curtis and Shirley. I usually want to get dressed up and go out to dinner for our anniversary, but we never do it. This year, Josh was forced to put on a suit. Thank you, Curtis and Shirley!

On our last day in San Diego, we tried to escape the heat by going to the beach. Lola was thrilled, as she loves few things more than sand.

We had a great trip, but I am thankful to be home with this baby still in my belly. 

Ahoy, It's a Boy!

A few weeks ago, Maria, my good friend and Duckie's godmother, hosted the most delightful baby shower.

 The party had a nautical theme, and Maria used the cutest seaworthy details!

 

 

The food was amazing. AMAZING.

Inside these adorable treat bags were macaroons. YUM.

I felt so spoiled. There are few things better than spending a Sunday afternoon with friends. Maria even made me a special peach-ginger sparkling soda, which I am still thinking about today (obvi!). In an attempt to capture the crowd, I asked Lola to take a photo of us. While slightly off-center, it's not too bad.

This pretty much sums up how she feels about babies

My friend Susie recently had a baby. Her name is Madeline and she is the adorable baby that I am holding in this photo. To say Lola was thrilled at meeting Madeline is a bit of an understatement. She was like, BABY! COME TO ME! BABY!! Lola kept trying to hold Madeline, hug Madeline, play with Madeline's tiny baby feet. BABY!!!

Josh has decided that we need to figure out a way to construct a moat around our baby at all times. At first, I thought his suggestion was a bit extreme, but if this photo is a sign of things to come, I think he is right.

Hot Summer Days

It's been a little warm here. 

I've spent the last few evenings at the pool, floating and hoping that the lukewarm water would somehow eliminate the swollen existence that has overtaken my legs. (It hasn't).

Yesterday, on the way home from the gym, I saw two girls in a Toyota Corolla, with a giant raft strapped on top. I wanted to honk and give them a thumbs up of approval for heading to the river at nearly six o'clock in the evening, but I didn't.  Instead, I crouched down and snapped a photo.

Then, I went home and made ice pops. I received an ice pop mold for my birthday, and it is absolutely delightful. I've been experimenting with different flavors and fruit combinations. My new favorite is watermelon-strawberry-mint. They are delicious, but more importantly, they are a wonderful distraction from this miserable weather.

27 Weeks

I've been waking up a lot in the middle of the night. Surprisingly, its not the typical pregnancy symptoms, like needing to pee three times before morning or finding myself on my back struggling to roll to my side like a tipped over turtle. It's just that he moves. Like, really MOVES. 

He twists and kicks, squirms and punches. My uterus, with all of its amniotic fluid, must feel like an Olympic pool because he loves to swim to the end, perform a kick turn, and swim back to the other.  He does this all day, but even more so at night. Oftentimes, I'll wake up at 2 AM, and then 3, and then 3:30 wondering if my baby has decided to to rebel against exiting through the cervix and instead insist on clawing his way out through my belly button.

Dude, you're barely going to fit through door number 1. Don't even bother trying door number 2.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping for a typical second born sort of kid. You know, the stereotype: mellow temperament, easy-going attitude, one who sleeps well, and who is, in general, a much easier baby than the neurotic first born. But, based on these kicks, and in particular the five kicks that were just now delivered to my upper right abdomen, make me think that I should throw these second born assumptions out the window.  Or I need to accept the fact that I am gestating an entire liter of kittens.  Either way, this is a wild ride.

That Crazy Pregnant Lady

Things that I've recently done that I will publicly admit and I will wholeheartedly blame on being pregnant:

1.  I demanded that Josh go to Trader Joe's just to buy their roasted coconut flakes for me. (When he came home with the last three bags that were available for purchase in the store, I was sad that he wasn't able to buy four bags.) 
2. After letting Gizmo out into our unfenced backyard, I proceeded to forget that I let her out, and 15 minutes later when I remembered that I let her out and realized that she wasn't in the backyard, I ran down the street in my bathrobe, yelling, "Gizmo! Do you want a treat?" Mind you, it was 11 AM on a Sunday morning, and when I went back inside the house, trying to figure out a way to tell Lola that I lost our dog, Gizmo was asleep in her bed.
3. Having what I call a pregnancy hot flash, and thinking that no one but Lola would see me, I decided to strip down to my bra and underwear while cleaning the house. Unfortunately, Josh came home early and found me mopping the kitchen floor in my underwear. 
4. During another hot flash, I realized that our ice maker wasn't making enough ice for me to eat/drink/transform into popsicles. I put on the only pair of clean shorts that I had, which were way too short and tight and never meant to be worn in public, and drove to the liquor store to buy ice.
5. I want mango. Lots of mango. But, I hate peeling mangoes. Luckily, this is the right season to find pre-cut. pre-peeled mango in the deli section of the grocery store. Glorious mangoes.
6. I also want popsicles, or shaved ice, or slurpees. Preferably all of them in either a coconut or mango flavor.
7. I am totally obsessed with the idea of going to Hawaii. I have no idea why. But, I have totally planned out the entire trip in my head. Somehow, I am going to make it happen.
8. At the grocery store, I stood in the main aisle, jaw dropped for what was probably a good minute, before audibly sighing and saying, "REALLY?! NOW Leinies is sold in California?!!" 

Trying to be Mindful

Yesterday, Josh motioned toward my stomach and said, "We haven't really talked about this much, but there's a baby in there."

It's true. My uterus is currently occupied by a 20 week old fetus, but unfortunately for this child, it is already falling into a stereotypical second child status.

I'm trying, I really am, to pay attention to it. Trying to pay as much attention to it, as I did to Lola when she was in the womb. But the thing is, I'm failing.  My life, or should I say, our lives are so different now than they were five years ago.  Even as Josh made the comment, Lola was standing between us, jumping up and down, yelling about something that she felt needed an immediate response and our conversation ended with me barely acknowledging Josh's single statement.

Luckily, biology has assisted my attempt to be mindful.

This week, I started to feel some internal movement.  Movement that I can confidently attribute to the baby and not the reorganization of my organs or slowed digestion system.  Every time it kicks or punches me, I am pulled into the present to acknowledge what is going on.

That, and each time I catch my reflection, I find myself compelled to slow down and gaze at my profile. I instinctively place my hands on my stomach, smile, and think, there's a baby in there.

Sharing the News

A video of us telling Lola that she is going to be a big sister.

The Art of 4

Thus far, 4 is a spectacular age. I think I may even go as far to say that it's my favorite age.

One of Lola's current interest is biology, particularly human anatomy.  Some days this results in adorable conversations, like her concern over "whether the red blood cells and the platelets were going to form a scab." (Yes, indeed, that is how it works). Other days, she has questions that are too big for me to answer, but she seems satisfied with the response of, "Uh, I don't know. But I'll look into it and get back to you." (This a response that seems to work well with my boss, too.)

And, sometimes, her curiosity and need for exploration, is a bit messy. Like the night I found her facing the toilet, naked, trying to figure out a way to aim her pee into the toilet. When I asked her if she knew why she was having such trouble she sighed and said, "I think I might need a penis."

Part of my love for her new obsession is her expanded vocabulary.  She has added words like pupil and iris, cochlea and intestine, to her list.  It's adorable to hear someone with a tiny, squeaky voice, explain how food is digested. "First, it goes into down your e-soph-o-gus..."

 (Wearing her "drinking glasses" as well as her anatomy shirt.)

Yet, for all this older kid stuff she has started to talk about, there are definitely moments that remind me she is indeed only 4.  Like, when I ask her if she is "sure" about something, and she replies, "I'm sure not."  Or when we sit in our favorite Japanese restaurant, for what I hope will be a calm uneventful meal, and she sprawls herself across her chair and moans about how her Buzz Lightyear action toy MUST AT THIS VERY MOMENT attack the Evil Emperor Zurg, who is, in her mind, the soy sauce bottle sitting on the table next to us occupied by people who looked annoyed with the fact that we have a 4-year-old in a restaurant. Or, like last night, when she woke up 3 times, first at 1:30 AM, then 2:00 AM, and lastly 4:00 AM, with no excuse to be awake except that she wanted me to soothe her back into sleep with my presence.

So, yes, this is all 4.

I read once on another person's blog, of whom his name in particular I cannot recall, that 49% of the time, children are a serious pain in the butt. Like, so awful, that you wonder, why in the world would a person abandon a life of sleeping in and showering without interruption.  A life that was likely focused on exactly what you wanted to do when you wanted to do it, and you didn't have to constantly be watching a small person who enjoys urinating on herself, or placing incredibly dangerous objects in his mouth, or generally being the suicidal maniacs that most babies and toddlers aspire to be.

The author continued and wrote that the reason so many people are willing to deal with such crap is that 51% of the time kids are awesome. They give the most sincere hugs, teach what true unconditional love is, and have belly laughs that compare to no other group on earth.

I've learned that this 1% makes a difference. It's the 1% that make people like me, a woman who wasn't entirely sure the first time around whether she was going down the right path, want to venture down the same road again.

(This time around I'm hoping for more of a 40/60 split, but we'll just see what happens.)

Trying to be Patient

I started having contractions last night. It was exciting. I laid in bed, restless, breathing through each one. They were coming every ten minutes. And they continued. For hours. HOURS. I did my best to try and sleep. At some point, I did fall asleep. But then I woke up. To more contractions. And then this morning, I continued to have contractions. Then there was lunch. A Quiznos sandwich and some soup. Twenty minutes later, the contractions disapeared. Quiznos killed my momentum.

Needless to say, I was disappointed. I was pumped. I thought my baby was on the way. I thought I would get to meet her TODAY. But, apparently, she was not meant to appear today.

I am trying to be patient.

I'm overdue. To be honest, I'm not entirely overdue as my due date has changed three times during this pregnancy. First, the due date was Feb 6, then Feb 3, and finally Feb 5. Technically, I've only surpassed one due date and most likely, she won't come today, so I'm about to pass another.

I know due dates are more like "guess dates" and my Mayo Clinic Healthy Pregnancy book says that only 5% of women actually deliver on their due dates, but still, it would be nice for this baby to arrive -- soon.

A New Journey

I'm fed up with my old blog and its inability to post photos. I think we can all agree that the greatness of a blog heavily depends on photographs and a witty writer. Also, due to the public nature of my job, I think it would be best if I didn't have domain name that includes my name.

So, I am starting fresh. I feel it is quite timely that I begin a new blog now, as I am 39.5 weeks pregnant and it has been forecasted (I pressed my midwife for her "professional opinion" at my last appointment) that my little beancake will make her grand debut sometime this upcoming week. We'll just see how timely she is. My vote is still the 11th. Not that my vote means much. I also thought she was a boy until we had our 2nd trimester ultrasound and I was subsequently proven wrong by a full frontal view of her little lady parts. Right now, I'm 0-1. :)

But on to better things. Like a photo. Here I am (or should I say, here we are), all 39.5 weeks, standing outside The Birth Center, the delivery site for our bean.