Rolling a spare...

This is what I feel is in my uterus at the moment.

I went to my doctor's appointment on Friday and I asked her to feel around in there for where he was situated.  She says, "Hmmm, I can't find his head!"  And I say, "Well, he had one last week..."  Because see, I knew he was working on some sort of maneuver last week, and I too could not find his head.

Because it was in my PELVIS already.

He's moving on down!  Which hopefully means he's moving on OUT at some point.  But not THIS point.  He still has at least four more weeks until he can officially come.  I mean, he can come whenever he wants...but I'd like him to wait.

I'm up 16 lbs since the beginning.  His heart rate is beautiful, and my blood pressure is even and holding low.  I'm one happy momma :)

Except, it kind of feels like I've been riding a horse for many days.  My back hurts like mad.
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I wanted to share these pictures.  They are our only family pictures since I've been pregnant, and I love them all :)

 

The I "heart" Mom shirts were an Old Navy special a few years back.  My sister and I have worn them every Mother's Day and Mom's birthday since we bought them.  I was either in high school or college at the time...it's a tradition :)

 

Love my fam :)

The chair has the floor...

Well this past week has been a trip.  BIL was here.  And you know how when someone says, "I'm coming to visit you" and you reply, "This week REALLY isn't good" and then they come anyway?  Yeah, it's been one of those weeks.  He's 24.  Always keep that in mind.

He arrived, toting enough clothing to last him a month (and he was only staying a few days...) and he also had a huge box, which turned out to be containing our high chair...which was very nice of him.  And then it began:

"Can I put together the high chair?"

No.

"What if you mom helps me?"

No.

"Why not?"

Because there's no place to put it right now, and he can't use it until he sits up anyway.  Besides, we don't want to cats all over it, and we'd like to keep it nice for another few months.  When he's ready to use it, we'll have you help us set it up.

"But me helping to set it up was part of the gift."

And we're so thankful!  But right now, we're not going to set it up.
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So on Tuesday night, my dad took us ALL out to Mount Gretna to The Timbers to see the show and eat dinner for my mom's birthday.  I knew it was a large expense for my father to do this for six people.  I ate like a HORSE.  I think I forgot to breathe in between bites, but they had fruit salad with MANGO in it!  MANGO, people.  That's big.  So three bowls of that later...I have a happy tummy and a REALLY happy baby.

What did BIL do all night?  Text.  He text at the table.  He text while we were eating.  He text while he was walking up to the food line.  He text during dessert.  He text up until the point the shower started.  He text during intermission.  I was ready to throw the stupid iPhone in the toilet and flush repeatedly.  That's a special type of rude, when someone else pays for your meal AND show.

So I get home from work on Wednesday, he's there with my mom.  Because she was sitting him for us during the day- aka, paying his way into stuff to keep him occupied- and it begins again.

"Well, I really want to put the high chair together."

No, I don't really want it put together.

"Well, I asked Andy earlier and he said the same thing!"

Yeah, I'm sure we want to keep it in the box right now because we have no plae to put it and we don't want the cats on it and he won't need it for a few more months.

"But the box is taking up more room than the actual chair!"

That's not really the point.  The point is we do not want it dirty.  And Andy wants to play daddy and put things together for his son.  You can put it together next time you are down.

"But that's going to be when the baby is born!"

Yep, and he's STILL not going to need it then either.
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Andy leaves for work on Wednesday and begrudgingly calls his mom to talk on the way.

"Your brother said you're not allowing him to set up the chair."

No, mom, we're not ready for it yet.

"But Andy he's excited.  Let him set up the chair."

No mom, we really don't have the room for it, and we want to keep it clean and we don't want the cats on it.

(silence)
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The chair is still in the box.  Where it will stay.  Until the baby is old enough to sit in it.

I'm sorry? 33 weeks already?

I'm fairly sure someone has sneaked my son a set of blocks, and he's just banging them together in my stomach.  There are many times I just sit and watch my belly being beaten around like pizza dough.  But I LOVE it!  And I say, "Kick baby, kick!  Mommy feels you!!!"

33 weeks today.  33 weeks.  What happened to the last 32 weeks of my life?  They've been spent in anticipation of what's to come in another 7 weeks (or less, depending.)  Only two more labor classes.  Only a handful more doctor's appointments.  I'm going every two weeks now, in case I haven't mentioned that before.  And then I will see him every week.

This is me :

I love being pregnant right now.  People are so nice to me, and they get me things and clean my house for me :)  I think that's where my anxiety comes from now- the thought of getting "un-pregnant."  I'm bad at changing seasons- I'm sure there's a disorder or something that someone could diagnose me with.  But as much as I'm excited to meet him...I'm also nervous to not be pregnant any more!  I know I know, I'm a walking contradiction.

But if you had the attention of your family and friends, and I mean the 100% undivided attention of your husband, whenever you asked, combined with your mom coming over on a regular basis and helping you clean and wash and ironing your clothing for you...you would not want this to end either.

Along with the fact that being pregnant puts you on this pedestal.  Every day is new.  Every week you're learning something new about your baby.  You go into the doctors and everyone smiles at you and secretly thinks how cute pregnant women are.  And then...you become the new mom with the screaming infant.  Nobody smiles at that mom.  They wonder why she can't control her child.  They immediately start to judge on how fast you've lost your baby weight.  They ask questions about "Is it a boy or a girl?"  The older ones contemplate how the younger generation just doesn't do it like they used to, while the younger ones consider how my life is now "over" because I now have responsibility.

And maybe I'm only speaking this because that's probably what I would have said a few years back...except that now I want it so badly.  I want my son to be crying "momma!" and have me be the only one who can comfort him.  I want to pack the car with a mountain of accessories, just to go to the grocery store.  I want to have to leave the beach early because of nap time.  I want all that.  And more.

But the long and short of it, is having a baby means your replacement is here.  You've just secured your lineage into the next generation.  Babies only stay young in photos.

So here I am.  Here WE are, at 33 weeks.  In a few weeks, WEEKS, I'll be posting a picture of my husband, my son and myself, wondering where the last 40 weeks went.  Or maybe less.  OR maybe more.  No, certainly not more.

32 weeks = 8 Months

Sore throat and swollen glands.  That's how I welcome my son to his 8th month.  My huge weekend and lack of uninterrupted sleep has left me feeling down in the mouth...so to speak.  However, I just cannot believe we are almost through this.

Friday was my doctor's appointment, to which I brought a long list of questions to ask Sandy.  They ranged from perineum questions (warm rag is best) to circumcision (they no longer use sugar water...) to pitocin (why DO they use it after giving birth?  To contract your uterus, that's why.)  I've gain 14 total lbs.  Bringing me back up to a whopping 220.  It's hard to see that on the scale.  But the baby is at least almost 4 lbs of that.  He's about his full length now, and will just grow chubby from now on.

Saturday was Cherith's wedding, which was amazing for me to take part in.  Everything was lovely and she looked very happy.  Here we are!

I'm on the left, of course, and Cherith is in the middle and Stevi is on the right.  Well, Melisa.

However, the TRUE love being captured on that day was this picture:

Of course I had to wear my highest heels on the stage while I was playing- you know, because people care- and I couldn't get them on or off, so Andy interceded on my behalf.  Tiny buckles...big fingers...it was amazing.  And romantic.

Sunday was our shower, which of course was amazing :)  My mom and Cathy really worked hard and I think my sister was there at some point too (she didn't think she could come).  But then she left without saying goodbye to be with her boyfriend, and I never saw her again.  I will hopefully have more pictures to come of the shower, when I get a moment.  Here is me, Kristi, and Lauren:



Tell me Lauren and I don't look utterly exhausted.

I was sweating and my hair was a hot mess, and it looks yellow under those lights.  But I was so happy :)  To the left of the picture you can see the most creative gift by far- the little man made out of baby items.  (More pics of this later) and to the right, you can see the travel system that the Erb's small group (which consists of the parents of the kids in the youth group) all went together to get us.  What a beautiful gift and showing of generosity.  Other gifts ranged from money to diaper genies to clothing to shampoo.  This weekend, Lauren and I are going to go thrift shopping for the rest of what I need.  I'm thankful for everything.  With the money we got, we can pay off the dresser and put the breast pump on layaway.  The best gift of our shower was having Pastor Bob and Joan and Krista there. I introduced Bob as our Pastor. He is our Pastor. I couldn't WAIT to see them :)

So here we are.  32 weeks.  Our tiny son has everything he needs to come into this world- including a ton of love from family and friends.  I get excited when he kicks, even when it's in my ribs.  I hold his little baby clothing up to my belly and imagine him in it.  I imagine nibbling on his little toes and cleaning his little toosh.  What a wild ride this has been.  How deep the Father's love for me :)

Here I am at 31 weeks...3 days...

A little like I swallowed a watermelon seed...

Teacher's Pet...

So we're going to this "Prepared Childbirth" class, given at the hospital.  We paid $85 for 6 classes, but they are a bargain at any price.  We have learned SO MUCH!  Next week is class four, and I'm really looking forward to it.  We practice breathing and relaxation techniques, and for two hours, my husband has to do EVERYTHING the teacher says.  So I get massages, and we slow dance to relax and he counts my breathing, and for two hours, I feel like I don't have to give ANYTHING, just receive.  He's active and interested, and on the way home, we talk about what we've learned.  See what I mean?  A bargain at any price :)

But I'm such a big goober.

I'm pretty sure the teacher doesn't LOVE me.  Like, she likes me well enough, but, she doesn't LOVE me.  I feel I answer all the questions wrong and she just nods and goes on to someone else.  Or like, last night we had to write things on the board that motivate us.  I said other women that aren't pregnant motivate me (them in their pants with waistlines, ugh.  Look at them go.) I think she was looking for activities.  I tried to follow up with a quip...she didn't laugh.  I'm pretty sure she hates me, actually.  What happens with parents that fail the class?  Can that happen?  Do they confiscate the baby?  Is there a big red mark of shame on our hospital file that reads, "Better keep an eye on this one..."

But the teacher REALLY likes Amy.  She likes her because Amy asks lots of questions.  Amy Amy Amy.  I bet she's going to get an A.  A for Amy.  Blah.

To spite not being Teacher's Pet, I've made a few decisions about our birth.  The teacher really encourages us to be responsible for our own bodies, and to know what we want when we get there.

1) Don't ever take my husband from my side.  Hear me?  Never.  I understand if he needs space or air, I will NOT understand if he's told he's not allowed somewhere.  That man knows me inside out.  He knows what I like and what I hate.  He has brought me water and cleaned my puke off the walls.  I need him to be with me ALL the time.  No exceptions.

2) I want to tell them when I want meds.  Right now, I'm leaning towards the epidural.  Strongly.  But you can't depend on something you'd never had.  And in class we have talked about how to get the baby down into place and how to ease pain and tension without drugs.  My friend Alison just had Baby Grace, and she doesn't remember any of her pregnancy because she was so drugged up.  Now, I'm no hippie.  There will be drugs administered.  But I want to be lucid.  I want to remember this.

3) Breastfeeding- it's going to be happening.  After he wiggles his way out, I'm opting to breast feed him immediately.  I want that skin to skin everyone talks about.  I'm determined to make this work.  After that, they can bathe him and do whatever, but I want to get him first.

4) I want a dim and quiet room.  That's it.  Just Andy and myself and a few nurses.  No commotion.  No parade of people in and out.  Just.  Quiet.

And that's it.  Those are my demands.  I know there are many other things that people could be picky about, but those are the four I'm going to be picky about.  It's my day.  It's OUR day.  It's my son's birthday, after all :)

Moving forward...

So after the frustration yesterday, I went into my boss and got her to write down all my time off for the entire year.  I checked it all, and it's all correct.  Actually turns out that she was very nicely not charging me time for all the little 15 minutes here and there where I left early for a doctor's appointment.  Andy helped me figure out the rest.  And now I feel better.  It's an awful feeling when you think you're being cheated or treated unfairly.

So I'm moving forward.  And we're going to make it work.  And God is going to provide.

Today, I saw a foot protruding from my body.  This was followed by a huge contraction.  I informed the baby he could not kick his way out, but thanks for the effort! 

This weekend is our shower...I know I know, I've said it a million times.  But I'm excited!  Well, a little.  My inlaws are coming down last minute, mostly because they don't want to stay with my parents (which they have to, because where would they sleep otherwise?)  I'm not excited for the drama, just for the gifts and the baseball cupcakes :)  Mmmm...cake...  I just got word today that my sister won't be coming.  This is new news, but not big news.  She's the one supposedly planning it after all, so it's only natural for her not to be able to come.   Not being grumpy.  Just stating the facts.

In closing, this is one of our cats, getting acquainted with the baby clothing: