Carleen and Mike

Mike painted henna on my belly. I say he did a pretty darn good job for someone who claims he can’t draw. You’re supposed to keep the dye on there for about six hours before wiping it off but that’s proving difficult since it’s already starting to peel off. So, we’re sort of thinking of it as a kind of belly mandala.

So I almost thought I had gone into labor today. Ok, so that’s a very ungrammitcal sentence but basically what I mean is that I had a bunch of very intense false contractions all day that made me all anxious, thinking “this is it”. I went for a check-up on Wednesday and according to the doctor, I’m “one centimeter dilated” and the baby’s “head is done there real good”. I really like my doctor but sometimes I have a hard time interpreting what he says. He indicated that he didn’t think I would last until the due date because the “head is done there real good”. He proceeded to give me some vague instructions about how I should give them a call if my false contractions (which have been pretty consistent since last weekend) “stopped me in my tracks” or if my water broke (well, yeah, obviously). So, of course, I went home extremely excited, anticipating the possibility of having my baby earlier than orginally expected. Unfortunately, I think this has made me highly sensitive to all the new things happening to my body since reaching “full term” (ok, I swear, that’s the last time I’ll use bunny ears in this post).
The contractions I get have gotten much more intense but I don’t have any real pain, it’s just unbelievably uncomfortable. It really did get difficult to walk today, though. It almost felt like I had a bowling ball in my stomach. It got bad enough that I ended up calling my mom who told me to call the doctor but they really don’t want anything to do with you until you’re in active labor so the nurse just told me to call back when the contractions came regularly for four hours. So, my mom came down to the library to hang out with me which eased my anxiety a bit . At least I had someone to take me to the hospital if things got worse. We’re short staffed at work right now so I really didn’t want to have to ask any of my co-workers to have to leave their desk. Not only that, but it’s just nice to have a mom around during times like these. So, we timed them and they weren’t very regular. Sometimes they would be eight minutes apart, others fifteen, sometime even more than thirty.
By the time I got home and sat down on the couch, things started to relax quite a bit. I’m still get quite a bit of tightening when I stand up and walk around, but apparently this is a very common trait for false contractions. If it were real contractions, it wouldn’t matter whether I was standing or laying down, they would always be of the same intensity. Not to mention, I would probably be in a lot more pain. But this whole thing is tricky. Since it’s my first pregnancy, I really don’t know what I’m looking for. I think I have just as much potential to under-react as I do to over-react. At any rate, as nervous and anxious as I am, it’s exciting to think that in a matter of weeks, Mike and I are going to be parents of a bouncing baby boy. And let me just say, if his movements in my stomach are any indication of what he’ll be like as a child, he will be bouncing…

Incidently, it would be sort of cool if he was born on Monday. That happens to be Mike’s mom’s and sister’s birthday.

Well folks, it’s August. My official due date is August 29 but apparently I could go into labor anytime two weeks before or after that date. According to statistics, only 5% of babies are actually born on their due date. I’m kind of hoping it’s sooner rather than later but I’m sure Liam’s got things under control in there and will make his arrival when he’s good and ready.
We got our air conditioner fixed yesterday. This makes me very happy. For the past few weeks we haven’t been able to keep our thermastat below eighty. For those of you not in the know, Oklahoma is experiencing a heat wave right now and temperatures outside are lingering in the high 90’s lower 100’s pretty much most of the day. I suppose it’s rather ironic that I was born in a heat wave and now it looks as though our baby will be too.
So, according to this handy dandy pregnancy calendar I found online, by Monday Liam will be approximately 6.3lbs and his lungs will be fully formed. During my last appointment with the doctor, Liam’s heart rate had slowed to 130 which scared me at first because that rate was significantly slower than usual but apparently this is exactly what is suppose to happen as they get bigger. My doctors appointments are more frequent now, every week actually and starting next week they’re going to start checking for signs of labor, contractions, all that good stuff. Scary. This has seriously snuck up on me a lot faster then I expected.

Mike and I went to visit our pediatrician last week and she seems like a very nice lady. Very laid back and actually has a sense of humor which is certainly a nice trait to have for a pediatrician. We also toured the maternity ward which impressed us a little more than we expected. They have some pretty tight security. All the exits have sensors on them. Upon admission, the mom and dad are given these security bracelets that match one that’s given to baby once it’s born. The only people who can get past the sensors at the exits are those where matching bracelets. So, as long as Mike and I manage to not loose our bracelets then we have no worries of some crazy nurse walking off with our child. They also have a bath tub that I can soak in for comfort and I’m also allowed to listen to my own cd’s during the delivery. I’m in the process of trying to put together a mixed cd right now. Which brings up an interesting question, what sort of music should a woman in labor listen too.

Too cute!

So, we’re still trying to decide on Liam’s middle name. We were set on Alexander for awhile, but I have a cousin named Alexander and for some reason it just didn’t feel right naming our kid that too. Then I was set on Roan, which is Irish for “little seal” and is also a place name in northern Norway. Just as Mike started to warm up to Roan, I came up with Liam Blake Huxley. Mike said that he was ok with Blake but prefered Roan and then suggested Matthew or David. I’m definitely not a big fan of David, Matthew I could possibly do with a little convincing. Last time we spoke of middle names, Mike was warming up to Blake. Meanwhile, I’m starting to like Roan better. Ahhh me…decisions.

As I sit here, writing this, my big-fat buddha belly is flip-flopping like jello. It’s the oddest feeling. I’m convinced that if I layed down on my back and steadied a glass of water on my stomach, Liam’s movements would have enough force to knock the glass comletely over.

Mike leaves for New York tomorrow to watch his little sister Kim get married. I’m really excited for him just because I think he needs a little break from this place. I’m sad that I won’t be able to go with him and take part in the celebrations. Sadder still that I won’t be able to sink myself into my parents-in-laws wonderful jacuzzi…although, with the 105 degree heat outside I think Lake Ontario would be more suitable to my needs right now. At any rate, I’m going to be by myself for the weekend and it’s my goal to finish up the nursery while Mike is away.

We’re having a kind of heat wave here right now. Actually, I think there’s pretty much a heat wave everywhere in this country at the moment. It’s been like this for three days. To make things worse, our air conditioning isn’t working properly. In some rooms it doesn’t even feel like there’s any cool air coming out at all. I feel cranky. My body feels pretty bloated and “thick” around the curves. Six weeks left. I hope this discomfort is short lived.
Turbo update: I believe he’s doing better. He gave me a little scare last night after he got sick a few times but he seems to be doing ok now, his appetite is still good, his personality is back although I sometimes find him to be more anxious then usual. This might have something to do with the steriods he’s on, I don’t know. As for his slipped disk, it doesn’t appear to be giving him any more problems. Despite his improvement, I still find myself being extremely paronoid about his health. I think I just worry that the steroids are masking his ailments to the point where when he comes off them, the same symptoms will come back. We’re slowly weening him off them now. I guess we’ll see what happens.
I’m definitely tired and worn out. Every small thing seems to take an extra amount of energy to accomplish now. It’s difficult to find a comfortable position at night so I don’t often sleep so well. Besides, Turbo’s heart medication makes him drink more which means I have to get up more often at night to let him out. I’m keeping up with yoga alright but I haven’t really managed a consistent regime of walking for awhile, especially now with this heat. Yeah, so…pregnancy is becoming a little more cumbersome here lately.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned on here yet, but I’ve spent most of the summer helping in the Local and Family History section of the library. I’ve really been enjoying myself there. It’s been a nice change of pace compared to reference. The questions are often much more interesting to work on (ie..can you help me open my email vs. can you help me research my native american ancestors). I spend a lot of time looking up obituaries in old newspapers. This can be a lot of fun since it often means coming across interesting stuff like this announcement about a young girl who apparently died…or did she:

“The fast girl who died of cocaine and was burried last Monday is now being dug back up. Someone says she isn’t dead”

The 1950’s are always neat to look through, especially all the fashion advertisements. I also came across an interesting opinion article one time:

WE, THE WOMEN by Ruth Millet

The young woman who tackels her first job when she’s just out of school usually develops a business like attitude without much trouble. From nine to five she is all business.
But the woman who gets her first business experience after being a housewife for a number of years often fails to develop a “business personality.”
She carries her “good neighbor” policy into the office-where it is entirely out of place.
She gossips across her typwriter, the same way she used to gossip across the back fence.
She carries on long personal telephone conversations the way she used to do at home after the breakfast dishes were finished.
She tells all her troubles and personal business to the people who work in the same office.
She gets chummy with the salesmen who want to do business with her firm, until she finds it hard to get rid of a caller without a long chat.
She encourages her friends to stop by the office and see her whenever they are in the neighborhood.
She never goes in for tailored neat clothes, but goes right on wearing the kind of clothes she used to wear to bridge parties and to church on Sunday.
None of those errors need to be, if a woman realizes that they are mistakes a woman not used to the business world, is likely to make.
And if she will compare her business manner and habits with those of the successful women around her, she can tell easily whether or not she has adapted herself to the business world.

Even though I was only there for a few weeks I thought it would be a good idea to join a Geneolgy listserve, just for the heck of it. They had an interesting discussion going on the other day about “strange” town names, like Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky. There was also apparently a local history published for a small town known as Climax. The book was titled, perhaps not so strategically, Climax: Before and After. Apparently it’s a real collectors item today. Then there was the Iowa newspaper announcement from 1964, when a young man and young girl, one from Manly, Iowa the other from Fertile united in marriage. The announcement read “Manly Man marries Fertile Girl”. Yeah, definitely had some good times in the Local and Family History section this summer.

So, I think I’ve finally gotten over my little whiney stage concerning the whole maternity leave thing. It’s a sucky situation but it’s time to refocus and start planning. It’ll be tough for the first few months, trying to balance school, work and baby but I’ve got a great, unbelievably fantastic husband and wonderful supportive parents and parents-in-law all there to help. Together we’re gonna raise a wonderful little boy and I can’t wait…

So, the plan for now is for Mike and I to both continue working where we are. We just can’t afford to do otherwise. If all goes well, I’ll pass my comprehensive exam in October and finish my last class in December (hopefully with most of my sanity intact). Meanwhile, I’m going to start sending my resume out now in hopes that I may be able to land a full time position with salary as soon as possible, somewhere in Oklahoma, hopefully within driving distance (is this really so much to ask?). As long as they can pay me the equivalent to what Mike and I are making together right now, then Mike will potentially be able to stay at home with Liam. Our plan is still to someday move up North somewhere, but for now, we have a house that’s paid for which is a very good reason not to do anything reckless like skipping town with very little money saved up, minimal job experience, a new baby and an ailing dog.

So, it turns out that this Family Medical Leave Act has a lot of fine print to it. I always assumed that “post-natal” was a medical state and thereby worthy of a good reason for twelve weeks of leave but apparently it’s not. As long as I am “healthy” and my baby is “healthy” it’s back to work as soon as the doctor says you’re ready to return. For my doctor this is six weeks. This was the answer his nurse gave me on the phone today. The answer I got from him personally when I asked him a few months ago was a little more vague and much more reassuring. “Don’t worry, we won’t send you back until you’re ready”. I interpreted this as his way of saying that the decision would be based just as much on the needs I voiced as it would be on his medical opinion. From what I gather from the nurse today, what my doctor probably meant when he said what he did is that he could always extend the leave if something happened, like if I had to undergo a c-section (ten weeks) or had post-natal depression (send me to a shrink and he’ll write my employer a note).

So, my advice to any pregnant working mother-to-be is to make sure and do you’re own research early rather than relying on others to do it for you (see Department of Labor). As it turns out, my supervisors at work have never had to deal with a full time working pregnant women on staff yet so they were unware of all the details too. In fact, our Human Resource lady even had to do some “research” to find out exactly what the policies and laws were. As a result, I’m two months away from delivery, thinking about the prospect of having to put my child in day care a full six weeks sooner than I was planning. I admitt, I’m in a panic. I’m home for dinner and I can’t even eat. It’s odd to think of the differences between this country and the one I was born in. I know this sounds snobby, I don’t mean to be but Norway is certainly much better when it comes to social welfare, specifically maternity leave (”almost all medical care is free, including prenatal and maternity care, and free day care is available for children of working mothers. A compulsory National Pension Scheme that was put into effect in 1967 provides old-age, disability, rehabilitation, widow, widower, and other benefits, including one-year paid maternity leave and universal child support. The average pension, which begins at age 67, corresponds to about two-thirds of recipients’ earnings during their highest-paid years”). Sure, they pay taxes up the ass, but at least the money actually goes towards something helpful to families.

So, I’m not sure how this is going to work. If Mike were here he would probably tell me to stop worrying and that we’ll work it out somehow which I’m sure he’s right. We’ll just have to adjust quicker than we originally planned too. I can remember back when we started talking about having children, we kept telling each other that we should stop trying to plan for it so much, that we had already been doing that for the past few years and every year we kept putting it off. We knew we wanted to wait until I finished school, but we didn’t know whether we wanted to wait until I had landed my first real job and we had moved and settled in our new home. So, we just decided to go for it and I started reading all those lovely websites about how it would take at least six months to become pregnant after quiting oral contraceptives which would be perfect since that meant I could get pregnant while still in school but have the baby some time after graduation. Nice and organized. BAM! One month. I guess Liam was organized too because he didn’t need six months. And that’s ok. Because whether we think we’re ready or not, he’s coming and I can’t wait. We’ll work out the details later. They don’t call us the “slacker” generation for nothin’.

So, I gave my boss the final “yes, I am taking the full three months off after the baby’s born” answer today. I’m feeling bad because I know I’m leaving them in a lurch by doing this. We’ve been very short staffed recently and in addition to me leaving temporarily, the other reference clerk is leaving for good. What makes it worse is that we’re both leaving right at the beginning of the school year when things are often quite busy. I’m not sure how they are planning to manage this. Actually, I’ve been afraid to ask since I’m likely to change my mind and tell them I’ll come back sooner but I honestly feel that it would be better to tell them three months now then it would be for something to happen later and for me to then ask for more time off. At least this way they have more time to prepare.
Taking the three months off is also going to set us back financially since I’ll only be paid for about half of the time. I can’t believe with all the talk in this country about institutions and communities being more “family friendly”, our government still hasn’t come up with a better system for maternity leave. Sure, we’ll give you the time off and protect your job with laws in the mean time but we won’t provide you with any money or anything. So, in other words…you can have a baby…you just can’t feed and cloth it.
It dawned on me the other day that June is almost over with. I can’t believe how quickly this summer is going by. I have less than nine weeks left. Save for a few false labor pain episodes and some rather uncomfortable lower back pain, the last three months have been wonderful pregnancy-wise. It’s been so much fun feeling him move and how the movement changes as he grows. He was having a particularly active day last Friday. As I was laying on the couch watching his movements, there was a moment where I swear, I could have grabbed a limb with two fingers if only I were quick enough.

It’s been a rough week. In fact, the summer in general is turning out to be kind of rough. The plan was to take the summer off from school, relax, sit at home, out of the heat, eating ice cream, reading and reorganizing the house in preparation for Liam’s homecoming. Due to various circumstances, including last weeks scare with Turbo, very little of that is actually happening. But that’s ok. That’s life.
Turbo isn’t exactly out of the woods yet. He had two more episodes today where he screamed out in pain, making me wonder whether the prednisone the vet gave him is having any effect at all. We’ve also been told to look out for signs of heart congestion, since the prednisone has a tendency to make a heart retain fluid and cause various problems. I don’t exactly understand how it all works. All I know is that Turbo is hurtin’ and it makes me unbelievably nervous.
I haven’t been handling this situation well from the beginning and it sort of makes me worried about how I’m going to handle similar situations with my children. Although, I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that Turbo is a dog and although he can communicate in various ways, he still can’t tell me what’s wrong and I still can’t tell him things like “don’t jump on the couch, it’s not good for your back”.
I was a complete mess the first morning. Some of my hysterics could be blamed on lack of sleep but the rest…if Mike wasn’t there I don’t know what I would have done. I’m just extremely sensitive to the whole animal in pain thing…especially when it’s my own dog.
Otherwise, I’m just trying to get things done around our house…something I’m not really very good at doing in general. It would be really nice if a house would just sort itself out…hey guest room…so like, there’s this baby coming in August and we kinda need to change things in here to accomodate his needs, so do you think you could maybe come up with something in the next month…great…I’ll get back to you then.
Actually, Mike has finished painting. The room already looks much cozier. There’s still a bunch of crap in there that needs to either be thrown away or moved elsewhere, elsewhere being a place in this house of very small proportion. My biggest problem right now is all our books and what to with them.
In other news, Mikey had his birthday yesterday. For a very brief month and a half we both get to be the same age, until I grow another year older in late July and once again gain seniority in our relationship :-). For celebration, we went out to eat at Rib Crib (delightful meal consisting of slaughtered meat and veggies sponsored by my wonderful parents) and discussed enlightening topics like whether the word “toast” is “funny to say” or why the expression “what’s up” has come to be interpreted as “hello, how are you”.

I’ve been reading a lot of back issues of Baby Talk magazine lately, something I’m trying to do less and less of since it has a tendency to do weird things to me, such as convincing me that these retro styled monogrammed blankets are actually worth fifty bucks and that I wouldn’t be a proper mom unless I pulled out my already overused credit card and purchased one. As if Liam is really going to care whether he gets to puke his milk up on a trend setting item apparently being bought by our current star mommies like Gwyneth Paltrow. Anyway, one issue had this really interesting piece on the evolution of the magazine and how “expert” advice for pregnant/new moms has changed since WWII. Below are some examples…bizarre…

“Perhaps it should be a requirement of every wife that she hold at least one position outside the home before marriage. This is probably the only way she can realize the day-in and day-out grind her breadwinner knows” (September 1943)

“Pregnant you’ll look a real ‘5′ by 5″ unless you keep weight gain under 20 pounds. The tiniest junior miss figure blocks into a husky square.” (March 1953)

“When they form the habit of sitting on their knees…straighten their legs out, again and again, dozens of times a day if necessary. Continued sitting in such a position will deform their knees, flattening them.” (January, 1942)

“Many babies prefer to sleep with their ears folded like pink flower petals against their cheeks…On a bald-headed baby, narrow bands of adhesive tape will hold the ears securely down.” (January 1942)

“The trick is to look so altogether lovely, so perfectly exquisite, that your altered figure becomes just what it is-the mere ouward sign that you are having a baby.” (August 1942)

Although times have changed, things haven’t exactly gotten easier for women when it comes to pregnancy, especially in the area of body image. I found this article to be particularly revealing. Another article I came across on CNN awhile back claimed that with all the new Hollywood moms out there, it had now become “hip” to be pregnant. Sometimes it seems as though we are meant to view the swelling bump on our belly more as a fashion statement, rather than a glorious sign of coming motherhood. I think this creates a rather dangerous stigma. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s wonderful that we now have fashions designed more to show off our pregnancy than to hide it like we used to. There’s just something happening in our society right now that I can’t quite put my finger on. We’re all health conscious…that’s for sure…and as a pregnant woman everyone’s main concern is obviously your health and that of the child’s. But, oddly enough, this hasn’t been my experience and people’s reactions when they see me don’t always reflect this notion completely. I think they mean for it to but their response comes out more to the tune of “You look good” or “You sure are getting bigger” or like the one I got today was, “You don’t even look like you’re due in three months”, which I’m not exactly sure is a good or bad thing.
This obviously has a lot to do with how sensitive a person is and I admitt, I have always been sensitive when it comes to remarks on my appearance, whether they be positive or negative. The more a person begins to comment on how I look, the more I begin to scrutinize over my appearance. This, of course, is nobody’s fault but merely a result of my own insecurities. Strangely enough, as this pregnancy has progressed, I have found myself becoming more and more comfortable with my body and I think I’ve even managed to deal with some of those image problems that I’ve probably always had but usually tossed aside as self absorbing nonesense. I’ve always been one of those people who tried to pretend I didn’t care about “thinness” and “prettiness” but like every other woman raised in the Western world, I would think about it constantly, secretly coming up with my own meal menu’s and excercise plans that I would play out as “just a simple healthy lifestyle”. The secret, I think, is when I realized that the look of my body wasn’t important. What was important was what my body could do. I need my body to be able to do things for me, provide me with stamina, joy, comfort, prevention from pain and illness. Thinness doesn’t necessarilly emcompass those things so why should I strive for it. Second, numbers need to be taken out of the equation. The only one who should be concerned with them is my doctor. My ideal body weight is whatever weight it’s at when I myself know that I am eating well and maintaining a healthy lifestlye. And lifestlye doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with excercise. It can but it doesn’t have to. It has more to do with doing things you enjoy.
There will definitely be some changes in my body after this baby is born. There will be all kinds of adjustments, emotional and physically that I’ll have to get used to. Some things will be bigger, some things smaller, saggier, whatever. If there is one thing that this pregnancy has definitely tought me, it’s that beauty isn’t meant to stay the same, it has stages like everything else in life. And I can honestly say that I don’t think I have every enjoyed a stage in my life as much as I’ve enjoyed this one.

However, the whole back and leg pain thing definitely makes me cranky.

So, the verdict is still out on what Liam’s middle name is going to be. Incidently, according to our friend Diama (and some survey featured on NPR) Liam is soon to become the most popular name in the US, along with the girl’s name Maya.

Naming a baby can be a fun, but also a frustrating project since there is so much that needs to be considered. I often thought Peekaboo Street’s (US Olympic skier) parents had an interesting idea…give your kid a temporary name until she’s old enough to choose one for herself. Then again, Peekaboo?

I also heard of an interesting custom from, I think, Hawaii where it’s tradition for the grandmother on the father’s side to choose the middle name. I mean, it’s hard enough sometimes for a mom and dad to agree on one name, let alone two.

I have to admit, though, in the process of searching for names I have definitely come across some really weird choices. Everyone seems to be very focused on making their child’s name unique (see Baby’s named a bad, bad thing). As a result, many parents-to-be are rearranging spellings of commonly used names just so they can say that their child’s name is unique. I find this to be a rather strange practice. Oddly enough, I started out wanting something really unique but during the search I found myself pulled towards many old traditional names. For awhile, I was settled on the girls name Evelyn…but then Mike started nicknaming her “Evil Lynn” so, yeah, didn’t take long for that name to loose its appeal.

The first piece of large baby furniture has been bought today, and so begins the epic struggle between Father and Instructions in 3 Different Languages None of Which Are Intelligible. I stand as yet another warrior on a battlefield of broken hex screws and extra “Part F”’s.

My entrance into the War was not a pretty one. Carleen and myself drove down to Tulsa to pick up the crib. Carleen suggested picking up her mom’s (larger) car so that we could make sure the crib would fit. “Oh it’ll fit.”, were the words that sprang from my mouth. As a guy, I lack the mental flashing red lights and buzzers that go off in women’s minds at a statement such as this.

We arrived at Babies ‘R Us and shop for several other small items as well as the crib, the bedding and mattress for the crib as well as a mobile and a few clothes; which were quickly and easily piled into the car. Now the crib itself. It came in a standard cardboard box wrapped with several ties. It immediately became apparent that only an act of God would get that box inside that car without large quantities of Duct Tape (something not easily found at your local Babies ‘R Us, go figure). Then I had a brilliant flash of inspiration - the box is likely filled with padding (it was) SO by unboxing everything the crib should fit no problem! Upon unpacking the crib, I discovered to my great joy that Ha! it will easily fit….then I got to the headboard. You see, instead of making a nice simple headboard which would have fit in the car of an average single person or couple with no children, this headboard required an SUV all to itself - now you know why you see all those parents with SUV’s it’s not for the KIDS, it’s for the kids’ STUFF.

So after pushing both front seats forward, adjusting the backs up as straight as they would go, opening both back windows, I achieved the seemingly impossible task of fitting the entire crib in the back of the car. On the drive home Carleen says, “Can I say it?” I may have only been married for 4 years now, but I know an impending “I told you so.” when I hear it. My response was, “Hey, the crib is in the car.”

baby5mo, originally uploaded by carleenandmike.

BOY! Carleen was right, I was wrong, but hey what’s new. Everything looks good, and as soon as we figure out how, we’ll try to post a video in all it’s wonderful glory. So, I’d like everyone to meet Liam [something] Huxley. We’ll have to figure out what that [something] is now, I guess.

It dawned on me the other day that once next week rolls around, I will technically be half-way done with my pregnancy. Honestly, up until now this whole experience has pretty much been about waiting for things to happen. Waiting for my tummy to show, waiting for the baby to move, waiting for the day we’d find out whether we had a Liam or a Callan, so now that all that stuff is happening, my mind is starting to become a lot more focused on that inevitable day when I arrive at the hospital, woddling with pain in full bitch mode ready to burst this baby into the world. But it’s kind of hard to prepare for something like this and it doesn’t help when the books I have on childbirth provide very little description of what labor pain actually feels like. The closest personal experience I have for comparison would be the time I got stung by a sting ray while Mike and I were on vacation in South Carolina. In an attempt to try and calm my hysterics, the life guard told me that other beach goers she had attended to that summer who were also stung had either compared the pain to being in labor or being shot.
However, I did find a few things on the internet that helped put things in perspective a little. For instance, I didn’t realize that when you have a contraction, your muscles actually do contract. Duh, I guess that’s why it’s called a contraction. Another website actually described a contraction to be like “an orgasm or an ocean wave”. Well, damn, that actually sounds pleasant. Almost makes me wish I could be in labor all the time. A lot of other descriptions I read were from women who had had epidurals or had taken other kinds of pain relief. I’m planning to not take any pain medication, not because I think I’m some sort of Amazon woman or something, but because I just want to be fully aware of what’s going on and not be all dopey. I’m sort of hoping I’ll take after my mom when it comes to labor. It only took her about five hours total to pop my brother out and even less with me (like two or three hours).

But, I’m definitely not relying on the “orgasm”, “ocean wave” comparison. I’m thinking “body on fire, burning, throbbing, menstrual cramps intensified by 100″ and “A LOT of pressure” to be a more accurate description. I hope I’m ready for this.

I’m at nineteen weeks now and I’ve started to feel the first flutters of movement. I can’t even begin to express what an incredible feeling this is. We’ll be going in for another ultra-sound next week when we’ll, hopefully, find out whether it’s a boy or a girl. Of course, there’s always the chance that the baby’s legs will be crossed or its back turned to the camera. Considering Mike’s shyness and my camera phobia, this is certainly likely.

I don’t know whether it’s because of the ultra-sound coming up or whether it’s just something happening in my body but I’ve had some really strange and intense dreams the past few nights. I had quite a few at the beginning of the pregnancy, very drawn out and detailed dreams. Last night I dreamt that Mike and I adopted two twin girls who had lost their parents in the war in Iraq. The whole war and catastrophe thing has always been pretty prevalent in my dreams (gets pretty depressing). Anyway, these two girls were about four, one called Jill, the other called Gillian. Yeah. Not very creative parents I guess, or maybe they just really liked the name. So, as we’re leaving one of them just takes off, you know, like kids do sometimes, just starts running down the street. So I start running after her but I can’t remember if she’s Jill or Gillian so I’m just screaming “hey you” which doesn’t seem to be getting her attention. She just keeps running. She finally stops and I catch up to her and then I start yelling at her for running off and the whole time I’m thinking “this is really not a very good start to this adoption”. So, that part of the dream ends. The next thing I know I’m at some race track getting ready to run some race with Mike. We’re standing at the start line with all these other people when it dawns on me that I’m pregnant and probably won’t be able to finish the race so I ask Mike whether it’s legal for me to just stop and drop out in the middle of it if I get too tired. I keep tugging his arm trying to get his attention so I can ask him but he’s doing this thing that my dad often does when he’s really focused on things. That is, he just ignores me and doesn’t answer. I keep trying to get his attention but he still doesn’t look at me. Finally, I’m screaming at him and then the start gun goes off so I start running and in my last attempt to get his attention I turn back and flip him off! Next thing I know the track turns into this massive grocery store. As we’re all running up and down the aisles there’s all kinds of customers standing around doing their shopping. Sometimes they turn and wave at us. It was just really weird. The night before last I had another one that was a little more creepy. I was in some other country by myself trying to get someplace, not sure where. But along the way I keep meeting people who help me and one of them has a daughter who just had a baby. She invites me back to her home so I can see her grand-daughter. When I look in the crib the baby is actually one of those Russian dolls, you know, the ones where you keep opening them up and there’s a smaller doll inside. So, I look at the daughter a little confused and she just smiles back and says the “baby is inside” which makes me pretty relieved. She opens the dolls up and on the very inside is not a baby, but a tiny pink skeleton that sort of looks like one of those Mexican puppet skeletons that they use in those parades during Halloween. What’s weird though is that the skeleton moves just like a baby. The image horrifies me now but I don’t remember feeling that way in my dream. I just left and kept going.

So, that’s pretty much where my brain is at these days. Preoccupied, apprehensive and thoroughly confused by bizarre dreams. I can’t believe I flipped my husband off!

It’s been a rough past few months but I’ve made it. I’m officially over with the first trimester. Apparently, this is supposed to be a milestone since the second trimester usually marks the end to several well known nasty pregnancy side affects like morning sickness, fatigue, faintness, skin problems, etc. In fact, my doctor actually gave me an official date. Using his trusty little pregnancy calender February 23 was supposed to be the day I “started feeling more energetic and less sickly.” Unfortunately that prediction wasn’t as solid as I’d hoped. The nausea still lingers from time to time and I still can’t drag my butt out of bed in time to walk the dogs and do my run before work. And the skin problems are still very constant. Rashes on my on my back, chest and pimples all over my face. I keep looking in the mirror wondering when I’m supposed to get that “pregnancy glow” so many people talk about. Yes ladies, there is a lot about pregnancy not to like but the important thing to remember is that all of this nasty stuff happening to your body is happening because there’s a little life in your belly that only has nine months to figure out how to turn itself into a perfect little human being. That takes a lot of energy, nourishment and much to mommy’s dismay, plenty of hormones.
I had my second appointment with Dr. Miller last week. I got to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. It was a little scary at first because he couldn’t find it. He moved the scope all around my belly for at least two or three minutes, not saying a word, just staring at the wall and holding the speaker thingy up to his ear. I could hear my own heartbeat echoing in my stomach and this weird watery sound which I think he said later was the placenta. It got to the point where the gel dried up and he had to apply more. At this point I’m really starting to get nervous so I ask “is it usually this hard to find the heartbeat”. “Oh, yeah, especially if your bladder is full. Is your bladder full?”. Ah, dude, I’m three months pregnant. The question you should be asking is “when is your bladder not full”. Apparently, when the bladder’s full it pushes on everything and shifts it all around so the location of the baby isn’t in its normal place which is why he was having so much trouble. He ended up finding it somewhere down towards my pelvic bone. I’m happy to announce that our baby’s heart is thumping to a healthy tune of 140 beats per minute.
So, I’ve been complaining for several weeks about having all these nasty side affects from being pregnant but whenever I look in the mirror there’s nothing about me that actually looks pregnant. That all changed last week. All of a sudden, BAM! The pooch has made its presence. I still don’t actually look pregnant but there is a very noticable bump that at least makes me feel reassured that something is growing in there. Actually, it sort of looks more like I’ve been spending far too much time chowing at the Olive Garden but who cares! I have a belly full of baby!
Mike has been amazing about supporting me through all these changes. When I was at my worst he wrapped me in his arms and said the best three words every woman loves to hear from her husband. “Let’s go shopping!”. So, last week we headed to Tulsa and spent the morning perusing the aisles at Babys ‘R Us. We decided when we left that next time we go we should probably bring a more experienced individual, someone who has actually spent a significant amount of time taking care of babys, like, say, a mom. Mike and I honestly had no idea where to begin. Who would have known that there were so many different kinds of pacifiers to choose from. And do we really need a bassinet in addition to a baby bed?

Ok here’s a better post. Me and Carleen were talking the other night about what kinds of music our children at the very least, need to be aware of. I heard a story a while ago from this guy talking to a younger relative ( I think the relative was in his teens) about Jimi Hendrix, and the relative said, “Who’s Jimi Hendrix?” Ouch. That is NOT going to be our children. They don’t have to LIKE Jimi Hendrix, but they’re damn sure going to know who he is. So we decided to compile a list of 10 CD’s each that we will be playing constantly as our children grow up. So here are our lists (I’ll let Carleen put in hers on her own, so you may not see anything for her yet):

I’ve been thinking about this post for some time (which does NOT guarantee that it will be any better quality than the crap I usually spit out when I actually take the time to write on this thing), and I’ve finally gotten around to writing it.

I’m going to be a Daddy. This is unbelievable news to me and I must say, I don’t think I could be happier. I’ve tried and failed at a lot of things, I’ve tried and succeeded at a few too. But there has always been one thing that I’ve known I would be good at, it’s being a Dad. I’ll be honest, I’ve cried at least twice already (happy tears) and I suspect there’ll be more.

I’m really at a loss for words, this is this single most happiest moment of my life and I don’t have the words to describe how I feel. Luckily, so far everyone has pretty much been very supportive as well as equally happy for us. I’ve heard several times in the past, people speaking to other pregnant couples about how expensive it is, how much sleep you lose, how little time you have and all that nonsense. It’s not that those people are wrong, in fact they’re probably woefully underexaggerating the difficulties of raising a child. However, I don’t think any parent would wish they could have that time, sleep or money back. I certainly won’t. I’m bringing a tiny little human being into this world and teaching it and protecting it and helping it to grow and whatever I may lose - I’ll gain so much more.

Now for the “Sad” part of this post - my ulcerative colitis. Man, I was doing so good. I found this stuff called Boswellia, which is actually just Frankenscense - which has been used for a while to help with arthritis and other inflammatory conditions and has been recently studied as a possible aid in dealing with colitis. It was working, until I went to the doctor for some muscle pain in my legs (something which is still bothering me for some reason) and he put me on Prednisone (a corticosteroid) now this stuff is also used to treat colitis, so I was stoked. Sure enough, that week I was on the steroids I was flying high, hadn’t been better in months. Until I got OFF the steroids, then I got worse than I’ve been in months. I’ve also started getting these sharp, crampy pains in my abdomen, which I hadn’t ever had before - these are starting to worry me as they’re coming with more frequency. It looks like I might have to go see my GI specialist soon. Another thing: I’ve been strangely cold lately, no matter how many sweaters I put on, I”m shivering. I’m wondering if maybe I’m lacking something in my diet (the other drug I’m taking, Asacol, also strips some nutrients from your body, but I can’t remember which one, it might have been either Zinc, or Iron).

Anyway, lots of conflicting emotions going on, but I’ll get myself better somehow. Want to be 100% when my little baby is born.

For the past few weeks I’ve been burdened with this horrible thought that I’m really not pregnant, that there really isn’t anything in there, that all these side effects I’m experiencing are just a result of some sort of rare cancer. Fortunately, we had our first appointment with the OBGYN today and much to my relief, it appears as though I really do have a little human being growing in my belly.

Our Little Peanut is 34 millimeters long (imagine the size of a quarter but slightly larger), has a beating heart, two arms and two legs (actually, you can’t really see the legs but our doctor assured us they’re there). Little Peanut is also pretty squirmy. I don’t think Mike and I were quite prepared to see so much movement. I know I wasn’t since this little wriggly worm is supposed to be inside me somewhere yet I can’t feel a darn thing.

Our doctor is interesting. Not your typical white coat, clip board and stethoscope type of guy. He’s more like the dip chewing, truck driving, flannel wearing, never seen without a cup of coffee kind of guy (at least I hope that was what was in that styrofoam cup). He seems very knowledgable, a bit like an Okie version of a Yale med-school graduate. I’ve been to him once before a few years ago and was a little taken aback by his extremely laid back attitude. He even used the f-word in front of me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with the f-word, in fact, those that know me well know I often drop it in conversation on a daily basis but it was just weird having this stranger cus at me one minute then give me a breast exam the next. Today there was no f-word, just a lot of chit-chat. He’s very approachable and despite all there’s something about him that makes me feel reassured that our baby is indeed in good hands.

Little peanut’s due date is set for August 29th, which is a day after my parents birthday. We’re seeing the doctor again in a month. Some of the information I’ve read says the sex can sometimes be determined at the end of the first trimester but we might have to wait a few months longer so I’m trying not to get too excited. We’re still working on the names. Frankly, I don’t really want to name our baby for sure until I’m actually looking at it. We’re pretty much decided on the girls name but the vote is still out on the boys name. Mike isn’t too sure about the middle name yet.

Although it’s happened a little sooner then we originally planned, Mike and I are overjoyed to announce that we are expecting our first baby. We only just found out a few days ago, in fact, the day after we got back from our trip to New York so this whole week has been a bit like a whirlwind and I think we’re both still a bit dizzy from it all.

Getting back to work happened a little sooner than I was ready for. I came back with a really bad cold that has since turned into a weird sinus infection. Since I’m pregnant I can’t take the strong stuff that I normally do to kick this kind of thing in the ass and I don’t really want to go on antibiotics so soon in the pregnancy. As a result, my voice has gone from sounding like Demi Moore on helium, to a pubescent eighth grade boy, to, in just the last few minutes, something almost totally non-existent except for an occassionally “peep” that sounds a bit like a giggling transvestite. I’ve been lucky so far when it comes to the morning sickness thing, however, I have been suffering from really bad fatigue which is just worsened by this cold since sleeping is somewhat of a problem. It got so bad today that I started to feel faint. I stepped outside and the cool air helped a little and I tried to eat something but I just wasn’t very hungry. As a result, this has truly been the longest, most terrible, horrible, no good, very bad work day I have ever had. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t want to talk to anybody, smile at anybody or even look at anybody but unfortunately I still have a few hours before closing so I’m going to have to whether I like it or not. I just hope my sexy transvestite voice doesn’t scare anyone away.