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.

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.

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.

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.

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, 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, 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’.

“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.