So this is what full term feels like...

I find it ironic that "full term" falls on an odd week, as we all know my hang ups with the "odd weeks" of pregnancy.  In three (or less) weeks, I will be holding our son.  He can show up any time he wants.  The car is scrubbed.  The bags are packed.  The car seat will go into this weekend after the people at the car seat clinic show us how to hook it up. 

At the doctor's last week I had to have a procedure that my very good friend Jamie and I like to refer to as, "The Great Bung Hole Swabbing of 2012."  Now's the time for the squeamish to look away (or perhaps find a new blog to read.)  Essentially it tests for a type of Strep virus that can make your baby very sick upon exit.  30% of American women test positive for this, and the result is being given antibiotics in labor.  No biggie.

So of course this is the only week until the end of the pregnancy that my Handsome Husband can make it to my appointment.  And of course this is the week where the midwife intern is doing all the dirty stuff for the actual midwife.  And of course this is also the week where the put me into the broom closet turn examination room.  So I go in and they tell me to robe up, which is fine.  Right?  It's fine.  Except my husband is sitting right there.  And the room is so small that there's nowhere for him to go.

-"Would you like to turn around while I undress?"

"Are you serious?"

-"Yes, I'm just nervous to undress in front of you."

"Do DO know how that baby got in there, right?"

-"Yes, I just feel awkward."

I did what I needed to do, quickly put the piece of purple paper over my lap, and sat on the table again.  The lady learning to be a midwife came in and after a detailed description of what's involved in said swabbing, she went about her task.  And of course my husband was on the business end of that endeavor because the room IS THE SIZE OF A POSTAGE STAMP.

As I was redressing I asked:

-"Did you look away?"

"Yes, I looked away."

-"Good, because that was very awkward."

"You do know what I'm going to watch coming out of that vicinity in a few weeks, right?"

-"That's going to be different.  That will be our son.  This was a bung hole swab."

The moral of the story is...well.  There's no moral.  It was awkward.  It got me thinking all sorts of thoughts about how I'm going to most likely be naked when birthing our son, and there are going to be lots of nurses around and my husband and how I didn't think I was an overly modest person, but it turns out I might be.  I wonder why God chose such a way to have life come into the world?  Probably because man was created with no inhibitions- they were all naked in the beginning.

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In the meantime, happy 37 weeks to me and my husband and my son.  I'm thankful for every moment of this pregnancy.  I'm thankful for the bad times, the puking, the arguments in the beginning that I now see were just out of sheer terror of what was happening.  The reality of it all...  I'm thankful for the good times, the "it's a boy" times, the first kicks and the milestones of imagining his creation in my belly.  And I've tried to be thankful all along, but it's hard.  But it's worth it.

The truth is...

I'm miserable.

Everything hurts.

His kicks are so hard I feel like he's going to break a rib.

I'm so short that he has dropped into my pelvis, but is also squarely planted on my respiratory system.

I pee so frequently it hurts to wipe.

I take two to three doses of Colace every day, just so it doesn't hurt to go #2.

I can't stand up without pain.  I can't sit down without pain.

Discharge?  Let's not even go there.  Change of undies every day.

BUT.

The thought of holding this little miracle in my hands and kissing his forehead and toes and snuffling his little neck...

Yeah, it makes it worse.

Because I'm anxious!  And Andy's anxious!  And they say the last few weeks are the quickest!  However, I'm positive that "they" are people who have gone through it and are looking back.  Maybe it's because you never know how long those last few weeks are going to last.  Full term?  Short term?  Past term?

In the meantime it's our anniversary today :)  Look what showed up for me:

 

 

Oh, I've got it GOOD ;)

She's sooooo tiny...

Andy and I had the extreme honor of meeting Miss Olivia Crum for the first time.  I wasn't going to ask to hold her, because I'm not sure I want people holding our son from the get go...but she offered and of COURSE I said yes :)  And of course my son kicked her. 

So I handed her to Andy, where she promptly cuddled into his chest, gave a little sigh, and fell back to sleep.  He just held her little butt and cupped her little head so it wasn't floppy, and I think the both of them could have just taken up residency on the sofa.  He was SO content with her there.  He was playing with her ears, beeping her nose, touching her fingers...like the Gentle Giant I know he is.  My heart was swelling with pride.

I'm learning that the secret to a happy marriage is glorifying your husband in public.  Building him up around strangers and friends.  Not superficially, of course, but with humility and grace.  I love telling others about all the nice things he's done for me.

Oh, for instance.  There was no water on Sunday morning and we had to sing in church.  And by no water, I mean that we hadn't filled out the pitcher to filter it through.  So...plenty of water, none of it potable.  And he said, "You can have the rest of the water, I'll find something else."  Really?  What a guy.  What a sacrifice.  Love him.  My cup is overflowing.  :)

Today equals 36 weeks.  He's completely viable from here on out.  He's fully formed, just getting fatter and more developed.  Fingernails and hair and finishing touches on his little skin and his liver and lungs.  The wait to see him is getting harder, because he's never let us see his face.  So we have no idea who or what he looks like.  While all of my friends were looking at smushed noses and tiny toes, we were looking at arms and elbows.  Oh, and his penis.  Which he promptly displayed every time we came to see him.

Thursday is our next appointment.  I was having contractions yesterday- but they were on average 20 minutes apart, so no harm done.  The doctor's office measures our weeks on Fridays, so we're a little ahead.  I go by my period, they go by the size of the baby.  Both are right.  He'll come when he wants to :)  I love him :)

It was cold enough this morning to justify a light jacket.  I'm not sure, but I think I remember this fitting me last year...

A Sweet Surprise

Since it will be our 3 year anniversary on Wednesday, September 12th, Andy and I decided to celebrate on Saturday evening (since he works retail, he has to work over night on our actual anniversary...bummer.)  Here we are, three years ago:

 

 

I seriously don't know who those puppies are in that picture.  Truth is, that's not actually my husband and I.  I just copied and pasted those pics from a random clip art page.  ...or that's how it seems anyway.  With everything that we've been through in the past few years, I feel more grown up than most people married for three years.

 

Oh, and as an added bonus?  September 7th marked our 10 year anniversary as a couple.  So check out THIS picture:

 

 

 

This was only the second time Andy and I had ever met.  See my ring around his neck?  He wore it all the time, until it was frayed.  It's still around!  Somewhere...

 

So we went to this really amazing place called FENZ, and I had meatloaf and mac and cheese.  Yeah, at this five star dining establishment.  But it was wildly amazing.  And this very attractive lady was a table away from us, which I didn't think about more than, "Wow, she's very attractive."  And she came up to me and said, "YOU are a very beautiful pregnant lady."

 

I was literally in tears.

 

My husband said, "I tell you that every day!"  I said, "But from a stranger, somehow it's different."  What a lovely gesture that I hope to pass on someday.  I love random acts of kindness.  Especially when they're directed at me :)  That was my sweet surprise.

 

It's funny how words can help or hurt.  I was at a 31 Party on Thursday of last week and one of the ladies had their chair out a little far.  I said, politely, "Can you excuse me?  I need to inch by you here."  And you know what she said, "Honey, have you looked in the mirror lately?  You're not inching anywhere."  Mmhhmm.  To which her daughter smartly replied, "Mom, have YOU looked in the mirror lately?"  Wow, just so rude of that women!  Just move your chair, for goodness sakes.  There's not a person in the room who doesn't know I'm pregnant!

 

Same party.  Different woman.  "Oh my sister tore so badly!  She tore from her vagina right to her ass hole!"  Seriously?  That was something you NEEDED to say.  And it didn't scare me, but it was vulgar and crass and just unnecessary.  The party lady, who I am good friends with, just sort of gave me this cat-that-ate-the-canary smile and I soon left.

 

Words are insane.  Use yours wisely.  I know I'll be using mine.

The Situation.

When you get pregnant, everyone is up in your business.  Everyone wants to be "in the know."  And nobody is discreet about it.

So when Andy and I decided that we were going to keep the name a secret, it was a no brainer.  FINALLY.  Something was ours to know and NOBODY elses.

Until he dropped it in front of my family on Father's Day.  Yeeeaaaahhhh.  Glad it was him and not me.

So anyway.  Because the thought of my mom dad and sister knowing, and his parents not knowing just frustrated him, we made the choice to tell them.  It was a joint decision.  I wasn't angry.  I think Andy was angrier than I was that he make such a rookie mistake, but we all lived.

Wow.  This blog entry is very incriminating.

So we asked my parents to please act surprised when we told them as a group.  Which they did.  Actually, really well.

And his parents didn't really act surprised- didn't really act any which way at all!  Did they know it was all a hoax??  Were they on to our big scheme?!?!

Nah, probably not.  But.  Then it began.  Same thing as when we first announced we were pregnant: 

"Who can we tell?"
Nobody.
"But, but WHO can we tell?"
Um, NObody.
"But if we WERE to tell someone, who could that be?"
Wow.  Is this complicated?  Nobody means...nobody.

And then the world knew.  The MIL was telling everyone she knew.  People in the supermarket that she DIDN'T know.  People she KIND OF knew.  People she'd LIKE to know.  They all knew we were pregnant.

My mom started up, "Why is SHE allowed to tell people?"
She's not.
"But why is she telling people?"
Because she doesn't respect us enough to shut her mouth.
"Who can I tell?"
Nobody.
"But..."
No.  Body.

So we tell them the name.  And in the same fashion, she starts again:

"Can I tell your brother?"
No, I'd like to tell him myself.

BIL comes- knows the name.  He tells us it's bad-@$$ and he likes it.
Thanks for the vote but...we wanted to tell.

And then comes the phone call.  Two of them- BIL and MIL, in perfect harmony:
"CAN WE TELL ROB!?"

To say that my husband was furious was an absolute understatement.

"BUT HE'S LIKE FAMILY!!!"  They proclaimed.

I was proud of the Handsome Man I Married.  He kept his cool.  Even when they shoved the phone in Rob's hands, stating, "FINE!  You tell him."  He didn't even break a sweat.  Ultimately Rob understood and was feeling equally as awkward.

So the moral of the story is...well, there is no moral.  Some people are not to be trusted.  Sometimes you have to guard your heart- because nobody is going to do it for you.

35 weeks, and a little something extra...

See that little beauty?  That's Little Miss Olivia Elizabeth.  Lauren had her baby!  After about 24 hours, Olivia made her way into the world via c-section, and we all rejoiced at her coming.  However today, I'm sad because every week since the beginning of our pregnancies, Lauren has wished me happy "one more week"...and today she did not wish me one.  Perhaps she's preoccupied?  ; )

We think that Liv is either a) frustrated from the ordeal she just went through after being labored for more than a day and then just being taken c-section or b) mad because she has to wear that stupid hat.  It's any one's guess.

My sweet boy is 35 weeks today.  How come I feel like the even weeks are more impressive than the odd ones?  I say 35 weeks with shame, but 34?  Now THAT'S a week worth shouting from the rooftops.  Tomorrow is my checkup, and then every week until the big day.

I'd like to say that I'm prepared for labor.  I've been through the classes.  I practice my breathing and my yoga ball and Andy knows all the right positions and what to say and not to say.  I'd like to say that I've been through all the scenarios, and I understand how to deal with the pain.  But I also know that it's nothing that I could ever imagine.

Andy and I made great strides a few weeks ago when he said to me in all sincerity- I respect your decision to have or not have an epidural.  Before this his tune was, "You're going to get one.  Just get one.  Everyone I've talked to had one.  Just get one."  And now suddenly he's supporting me.  Now let me make it clear- I'm not saying "no" to drugs.  I am saying "yes" to being in control of my labor.  I want to feel what women have been feeling for centuries.  It's my right of passage.  It's my turn to write a war story.

And speaking of husband- mine is being INCREDIBLE lately.  In fact, when Lauren was in about hour 12 of labor, I wanted him to go to her and help her through those last few centimeters of dilation and get that baby out.  He took this picture of me:

And then he told me I looked really beautiful in it.  I'm exhausted and sweaty and have stuff spilled all over my belly...but I looked really beautiful to him.  In fact, at the even we were at when he took that picture, I couldn't scoot my chair in any more, so everyone at the table scooted the table toward me.

I woke up last night to his hand on my belly.  Just like a father/protector.  He LOVES his son. 

Eh, I guess 35 weeks isn't so mundane after all.

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 :)