The Home Stretch

Pregnant women! They had that weird frisson, an aura of magic that combined awkwardly with an earthy sense of duty. Mundane, because they were nothing unique on the suburban streets; ethereal because their attention was ever somewhere else. Whatever you said was trivial. And they had that preciousness which they imposed wherever they went, compelling attention, constantly reminding you that they carried the future inside, its contours already drawn, but veiled, private, an inner secret.

Ruth Morgan

Today...*drum roll please* I enter the third trimester. And as a wonderful present for making it this far, pregnancy has decided to punch me in the face.

Let's review, shall we:

Last night, between the hours of 11:00 p.m. and 2:00 a.m., I woke up four times to pee, thereby doubling my usual number of nocturnal bathroom excursions. Each time I propelled myself from the bed I noticed that my back and neck and feet were getting achier. At 4:00 a.m., I got into the shower in an effort to relieve the discomfort which had somehow climbed from a dull ache to a throbbing pain in a matter of two hours. While waiting for the water to get warm I stood in front of the mirror and noticed that not only am I breaking out in places I did not even know it was possible to break out in... but my nipples are now leaking at a fairly alarming rate (well, at least when compared to the rate of leakage a couple of weeks ago... namely.. little to none.)

The shower seemed to work but then I had to take three Tums before laying back down to try to sleep because I made the mistake of drinking a glass of water. Just as I started to drift off... Liam decided to practice his hardcore dance moves on my diaphragm. It felt a little something like this:

I finally fell asleep around 6:00 a.m. and then lugged my whale self out of bed around 9 in order to make an appointment. (It was for my CAP classes at AAA Women's Services.. which I will blog about one day soon because they are amazing.) I got up, got dressed, ate breakfast, got into my car, went to my appointment... walked inside... and then realized it was for NEXT WEEK.

Actually, that is not true.

I never realized it was for next week- I had to be told it was for next week by a very confused receptionist because Liam is stealing all my brain cells and, at the rate he is going, he better be a freaking genius. You think I am kidding.. but I am not: it is genius or bust.

So, I decide to go work on some homework (not actual homework.. which I should work on.. but AAA homework, which is much more fun). I start reading a pamphlet about bonding with your baby and there is a section titled, "Dad's Important Role." It is maybe two paragraphs about the relationship that can form between a father and his baby... and.. of course... I start bawling. Not quiet, normal "oh, how wonderful life will be" sniffles, but full-blown crazy preggo sobbing. In the middle of Starbucks. For approximately three minutes. And then I was fine.

In addition to all of this, I am pretty sure I spent the afternoon experiencing my first authentic Braxton-Hicks contractions and they were rather uncomfortable and it suddenly occured to me that one day in the not-so-distant future... I will actually be going into labor.

It also occurred to me that I have absolutely no experience with significant amounts of pain. I have never had stitches or broken a bone or had appendicitis. I have never even had real menstrual cramps. I did have pretty extensive jaw surgery when I was 18 but it was elective and the painkillers they gave me were basically amazing. It was mostly just uncomfortable because my mouth was wired shut for 8 weeks and my face blew up like a balloon... but I really did not feel too much as long as I popped my pills on time.

I mean.. my mom talks about how I never fell when I was learning to walk- I would lower myself to the ground gently... and the first time I skinned my knee I limped for a week. To this day, stubbing my toe or cutting my thumb is an earth-shattering event. I can sulk over it for hours.

So I don't do well with pain... at all, really. And I am beginning to think I might be a little naive to believe that I can walk into this situation which includes some of the most intense pain anyone ever feels ever in their life with absolutely no working knowlege of pain in general... and do it without intervention. I just don't know.

Well... anyway, the third trimester seems to be welcoming me with open arms. It honestly terrifies me to think about how fast the next three months are going to go by... but it is exciting at the same time. It is amazing how many changes Liam will be going through... and me too for that matter. We will see how it goes, eh?

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Oh, my...

There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.
Sylvia Plath

I find the above quote amusing in a twisted sort of way considering Plath's fate. [She stuck her head in a gas oven and killed herself.. for those of you who are not fortunate enough to know that little tidbit of information compliments of my Senior Seminar class; we just finished studying her last week and my professor made us all promise not to go home and slit our wrists- her poetry is that uplifting.]

However, if it is true.. I could certainly have used a hot bath after my registry excursion yesterday. It was entirely overwhelming. I mean.. I know I said something about babies needing a lot of stuff, but it did not even remotely prepare me for just how much stuff babies need. Have I mentioned that babies need a lot of stuff?!

After three hours in the store with my handy-dandy checklist I decided to finish up online. This was a very good idea because you can read reviews of the products and I ended up making a lot of changes based on the ratings other moms have given. (Ha, ha. "other moms"- I wonder how long it takes to get used to that.) I got back online today and made a few more changes and now I think it is... in some manner of speaking... complete.

I know I will continue to edit and change things as I am given hand-me-downs and visit garage and consignments sales. Remember how I mentioned that our Target registry was mainly "big-ticket items?" It has now come to my attention that there is very little in the realm of baby that would not qualify as a big-ticket item. This crap is expensive! And it is all marketed as if babies did not survive for thousands of years without spa bathtubs and play mats that flash and whistle and sing and light up every time baby turns his head. And it is all "designed to aid in your baby's cognitive development." And so you are standing there thinking, "If my child does not have this exercise saucer with the dancing alligators, he will not develop cognitively and he will be stupid and IT WILL BE ALL MY FAULT!!" And so.. you scan it.

I did end up scanning a lot of things I am not sure I would personally enjoy having in my house.. but it is mostly because every time I say something about not wanting one of those vibrating, bouncing baby seats or hating toys that bleep and blip and have no off switch, my mother looks at me as if I just told her I plan on holding Liam upside down by his ankles whenever he cries and giving him bourbon to help him sleep at night.

I know she would just pick it up for me anyway.. so I would rather have at least some say.

I am very different than my mom when it comes to parenting philosophies, I think. When I was born I instantly became the center of her universe. She was completely incapable of talking about anything besides me, her schedule revolved around me, and our entire home was overtaken by my stuff. The truth is... I would have turned out to be a spoiled rotten brat if my brother had not come along when he did and saved me from her.

I, on the other hand, am looking forward to making Liam a part of my life- not trading it in at the hospital for him. Maybe it is different because my mother was an entire decade older than I am now when I was born, and she had been single up until a year and a half before (when she met my dad and married him in four months- yeah, that is an interesting story). So she had plenty of time before me to pursue her other interests and when I came along I just... was her interest.

But I am not quite there yet. I know that life will be put on hold for a bit while we adjust to life with Liam... but the point will be to adjust so that we can get ourselves back in control. That is just too much to put on a baby; an infant is not capable of creating a safe, happy, healthy environment for a family- that is our job. This is why we are planning on using PDF (parent directed feeding). It is also why I am not such a huge fan of all the various loud, flashy toys and gadgets that would be entirely capable of overtaking our small home. Clutter stresses me out and, besides that, this is the first time I have had a place to call my own- I am having fun decorating it and do not want the entire place overrun by Liam's things. I like simple and I think that he will be just fine with simple. I have also insisted that Ryan maintain his outside interests after Liam arrives- and he is willing to help me do the same. I think a huge part of raising a child is maintaining your own sanity.

So.. I tried to stay on the simple side when picking things out for Liam Eliot. I tried to find subtle patterns for the swing and highchair that would not entirely clash with our living room. Since I know he won't care less whether or not his towel makes him look like a little ducky or a cow- I just picked things I liked, since I am going to be the one staring at it all the time. And everything.. I mean absolutely everything, has an off switch.

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The Stuff of Life

It sometimes happens, even in the best of families, that a baby is born. This is not necessarily cause for alarm. The important thing is to keep your wits about you and borrow some money.

Elinor Goulding Smith

Every Tuesday after class I stay over at my parent's house because I have class again Wednesday night and nothing in between so there is really no point in making the trek back up to Chattanooga at 10:00 p.m. and returning to Kennesaw half a day later.

I usually bring a load of laundry with me and spend the day washing clothes, doing homework, and getting sucked into the cable vortex because, when all your television is capable of producing is that manic snow, even commercials are entertaining. And then you find yourself saying things like, "Hey! Have you seen that commercial where that mom finds the rollover minutes in the trashcan? It is so ironic and funny!" and people look at you like you are crazy because apparently that was ironic and funny about six months ago when it first aired and now it is just irritating. I generally watch Law and Order:SVU and Animal Cops.... or random home improvement shows and talk shows... because that is really all that is on in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon, but, hey... beggars can't be choosers.

Anyway, all that to say.. THIS Wednesday is different. I have a load of laundry in the washing machine and as soon as I transfer it to the dryer (and make myself look like a human) I am off to register at Babies R Us.

Ryan and I discussed it and decided that, since I have a lot more tolerance for long shopping excursions and since I am also pickier about what we get for the baby, I will make the initial registry and then he can edit if he so chooses. (He said he did not care either way.. but I am pretty sure I heard a huge sigh of relief when I said I did not mind going alone.)

I got that suggestion from a book called first time Mom . It is honestly the best book I have read so far. It is amazingly simple and direct- just an honest look at one woman's complete experience. She really spares no details and she includes a TON of really helpful lists. She explains EVERYTHING from the moment her water broke (which, for her, happened before she went into labor) until her son was about 6 months old. I picked it up at the library and immediately knew I wanted it to keep... though I have yet to get my own copy. Sigh.

We already have a registry at Target but it is mostly for our family and ourselves as most of the stuff on that one are big ticket items like a crib and breast pump. I am really looking forward to creating this one because it will include all of those little things we will be using every day. Besides, I pretty much love browsing baby stores.. although, I can almost guarantee I will find at least ONE thing on sale that I just have to get. It is inevitable.

It is really incredible how much stuff one little, tiny baby needs. The day we found out we were pregnant, Ryan and I picked up a book at a used bookstore for 50 cents- the entire book is just a checklist of stuff you need to keep your baby alive. It doesn't even include any of the fun stuff like toys and books and cute little baby overalls; just the basics... and It. Is. An. Entire. Book.

All I can say is... THANK GOD FOR GRANDPARENTS!

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Round and Round She Goes

Everything grows rounder and wider and weirder, and I sit here in the middle of it all and wonder who in the world you will turn out to be.

Carrie Fisher

I do not even notice how much my belly has grown until I look back on pictures and see how much it has expanded in just a couple of weeks. It is honestly very bizarre... and I am surprised I have yet to experience a single stretch mark. *fingers crossed*

I suddenly have this new found appreciation for Santa Clause, with his "broad face and little round belly." I mean... how does the guy do it? Spending an entire evening lugging around a sack full of toys and going up and down chimneys with that gut?! I can hardly bend over to tie my shoes! And shaking like a bowl of jelly every time you chuckle just is not as jolly as they make it sound. Seriously. I respect that man.

And now, ladies and gentlemen.... I have an announcement to make:
*Ahem*
Are you ready for this?

.....I... have a.... mullet.
A mullet. Did you hear me? A MULLET.
Yes, my friends, a full-blown mullet. It's true.

I had recently decided to grow my hair long again as I have heard repeatedly the the ability to throw one's hair up into a pony tail rather than shower comes in quite handy when adjusting to life with a newborn... but since it has been over three months since my last haircut, I figured I needed to go in for a small trim just to make sure it was healthy.

Apparently.. going three months without a haircut is not such a great idea because your ends can split up and up and up... and then your "trim" just to "get it healthy" turns into four inches of length whacked off the back of your head. So.. there is that. And.. I probably should have been suspicious when I realized that the hip 40-something stylist with the pink, spikey punk hair that I ended up with had a star shaved out of the back of her head and bejeweled jeans- but... I wasn't. So there is that.

However, I did not fully realize the extent of the mullet until I got home. At which point I stood in front of the mirror for a good five minutes completely and utterly stunned. I then began to laugh hysterically.. because really, what else are you going to do?

I suppose when she realized that I was disappointed in how much we were going to have to cut off, the hairdresser decided to leave as much length as possible wherever possible- and so... MULLET.

And here I reveal it for your viewing pleasure:



Let me be honest in saying that these pictures do not fully capture the mullet-i-ness of this haircut. But it is hard to do that on my own since it is hard to snap pictures of the back of one's head and as we all know... THE PARTY IS IN THE BACK!

Oh, well... so is life.

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Oh, Happy Day

Cheerfulness is the very flower of health.
Proverb

So.. Can I just say that I absolutely LOVE living on the North Shore? Love it. It is absolutely perfect.

Chattanooga has to be one of the best places to raise a kid. Yesterday, I picked up Chattanooga Parent Magazine and was looking at all the free fall activities for kids coming up and got so freakin' excited! It is really incredible. This city is full of awesome opportunities for kids to explore and learn and play... and, as an added bonus, Liam and I will be able to walk to most of the awesome stuff we want to do. Seriously. I can't imagine a better place to be.

Ryan and I had a fantastic day yesterday. We don't generally get to spend large amounts of time together this semester because our schedules are entirely conflicting. When we realized that we had no commitments and could spend the entire day together, it was like...whoa.

We went to church and then headed over to the Hunter Art Museum. The first Sunday of every month is free, by the way; another awesome point for Chattanooga. (They also had live music- very cool.)

[As a side note, I would just like to say that I have discovered I appreciate art that takes what I will refer to as "actual talent." While I will admit that slapping some paint on a canvas and then coming up with an elaborate and pretentious meaning behind it that includes pain and/or isolation, an extensive vocabulary, and a good dose of "mommy issues" takes some measure of creativity, if I can go to any kindergarten classroom and see pieces at the same technical level... you lose. In other words- the temporary "New York Cool" exhibit sucked the big one. ]

After that, we headed home to eat lunch and watch a silly chick flick because my husband is a good sport. We then promptly fell asleep, woke up two hours later, realized we were starving, and met my best friend Caleb and his friend from school for dinner. We then got ice cream and watched Firefly for the rest of the night.

Yeah. It was basically the perfect Sunday. And exactly what we needed.

Also, I am surprised and happy to report that I have not been worried about Liam at all. I like to pretend he is doing his best to reassure his Mama because while he is usually fairly stubborn- moving only if and when he darn well pleases- he has been extremely active this weekend. My mom gave me a stethoscope so that I could listen to his heart and every time I have placed it on my tummy he gives it a prompt little kick so that even if I am unable to find his heartbeat, I know things are fine.

I have been taking my multivitamin religiously, along with the DHA supplements I never used. Fezzik and I have been walking to the park every day and I have been making myself eat copious amounts of fruits and vegetables- no more skipping meals! I am also refusing to stress.. which is actually a lot easier than I thought it would be. I honestly feel really good.

I should have let myself just be pregnant months ago instead of plowing on like nothing had changed. My mentality has definitely shifted. I have had an extremely easy pregnancy and I should be grateful for that. For the most part it has been an enjoyable experience and, instead of enjoying it, I have fabricated things to be upset about. But.. I can still enjoy the rest of it and I plan to.

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99

Faith is a bird that feels dawn breaking and sings while it is still dark.
Rabindranath Tagore

Is it not interesting how the minute you resolve to do (or not do) a certain thing... you are immediately tested?

As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I decided to stop giving into my fears concerning this pregnancy and Liam's health. Up until today those fears were completely unfounded- I was really worrying for nothing beyond what my own imagination created. And so, as life works, the minute I made the resolution, I have been faced with a real trial.

Today we were told that Liam Eliot is about 10 days behind schedule in growth. The doctor did not seem overly concerned and simply said they would be keeping a close eye on him from now on and asked me to return in three weeks. Of course, he did not say NOT to worry about it either... which I did not notice at the time, but which I now wish I had heard.

I am proud to report that I did not panic. I did not hyperventilate. I did not break down into tears. In fact, I still haven't. Though I have had to fight it back a bit.

I called my mother- who is a wonderful nurse, worked with mother/baby and in hospital nurseries for close to 20 years, and is quite educated about such matters- and asked her to remind me that everything is going to be fine. Which she did. She also reminded me that most people do not see their baby at every visit as Ryan and I have and so many times variations in growth rate would go undetected at such low levels.

I looked up some information... and it settled my mind a little on the matter. Nothing I read made slow growth seem like anything to be scared about- except at extremes. I did see that stress, lack of exercise, and poor nutrition can contribute so I have decided to make these things an absolute priority. And beyond that, I am just going to have faith- in three weeks my precious boy will be all caught up. He is going to be just perfect.

It is definitely a test. I am determined to pass it.
And I will take all the help I can get.

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Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

Of all the animals, the boy is most unmanageable.
Plato

Okay. So. Today... it has hit me like a ton of bricks just how HAPPY I am to be having a little boy.

I mean... Really. Freaking. Happy.

As I say on a regular basis: my life is complete sausage-fest. I spend the majority of my time with my husband and besides that, my best friend is a boy... in fact, most of my friends are boys, my only sibling is a boy, even all of our pets are male! The only women I spend consistent amounts of time with are my mother and... a three year old.

So when we found out we were pregnant (after the initial heart-stopping, jaw-dropping shock of it all wore off a bit) I was really, truly hoping for a girl. And people would say to me, "Oh. You don't really care do you? I mean... as long as it's healthy, right?" And I would say (or at least think in my mind while I nodded and smiled placidly), "Yes. Actually I do care. And if that makes me a horrible person, then so be it... because you are not the one who has to live with constant MAN PARTS floating around you all the time and never have anyone to turn to and say, 'Hey. Want to go shopping?' without getting a colossal eye roll unless you add, '... for video games, action figures and/or sports memorabilia' to the end. And while I understand that some woman have been trying for years to get pregnant and, once they do, they feel so blessed to be having a child that they really, honestly have no preference and I get that and I admire them- I am not one of those women so I really can not relate. I did not want for this at all in fact.. and so, I am sorry, but would it be so much to ask to be able to have a little girl I can paint toenails with and giggle with and play princesses with and all those fun little girl things that mommies and daughters do together?!"

Also, I do not remember a time in my life when I did not think that I would have a daughter first. Also, Ryan was convinced we were having a girl: mostly because he is logical to a fault and every, single member of his family on both sides as far back as anyone can remember has had a girl first. Also, I just really like little girl clothes.

However, about a month before we went in for the ultrasound, I began having dreams that we were having a little boy. And he was so precious and looked just like his daddy. I started to think that maybe, just maybe, a boy would not be so bad. Then I started to get pretty convinced we were having a boy.

By the time we walked into have the doctor's office, I would have been absolutely floored if there was nothing between that kid's legs.

And I was right.

Part of me was just so happy that he was alive and perfect and it really didn't matter- just like they said. Part of me was so thrilled for Ryan because the look of complete shock and amazement on his face as he realized that he was going to have a son was just gorgeous. But part of me was still disappointed. People kept asking me if I was disappointed and I would say no because that is what you are supposed to say.. but I was: it was like watching that little girl disappear.

Slowly, thoughts of that little girl that isn't to be were replaced by thoughts of the little boy that is... and I stopped caring about it at all. And then today, BAM- this overwhelming feeling of joy at the thought of having a little boy hit me out of nowhere. I am so in love with Liam now that if we were to go into our appointment tomorrow and be told that there had been a mistake, I would be really upset. I want him so much.

I partially have the baby boy I take of to thank for this- he will be a year old in a couple of weeks and has just hit his ultra-mega-super cute phase. It is my theory that between 10-18 months babies become the perfect little beings of adorable because they not only have to make up for the months of sleep deprivation they have just inflicted upon you, but they also have to give you something to make it through the terrible two's. And, boy, does this kid have it down.

It is like every little thing he does screams, "Look at how precious I am! You cannot resist my charm and you know it so you might as well give in and giggle with me as I throw colored pencils all over the floor, poop in your lap, chew on plastic lizards and eat dirt!" Because the minute he grins at you, wraps his arms around your legs, or lays his little head on your shoulder you melt and become a huge puddle of person.

Every time he gets up from his nap so warm and cozy and we sit together for a few quiet minutes and cuddle... I just get this warm and mushy feeling and, on those rare occasions when it isn't his full diaper squishing against me, it is the knowledge that my baby boy will soon be here and I will be able to cuddle with him and kiss his precious cheeks and watch him get into all sorts of mischief.

I have a feeling I will be a walking puddle for years.

Besides....little boy clothes are pretty stinkin' cute too.

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