Oh yes, and the next day it rained.

My grandpa used to say that phrase all the time.  Because at his wise old age, before he passed away, he knew that the next day would always come and the world would continue turning, no matter what happened the day before.  He should have copywritten it.

I'm yawning at my desk here.  Like normal.  No coworker.  Blah blah blah.  Old news!

Last night they had to take my dad to the hospital via ambulance.  He crawled into the house and was calling for my mom, and then he started spitting up blood.  So they called 911 and took him to Hershey Med.  They started him on an IV, and some medication because he said he was so dizzy.  He didn't know where he was.  I got there around 8, he had gotten there at around 7.  They did blood work, EKG and CT scan, which all came out normal, thankfully.  April, Taran, Andy's brother, Andy and I were all in the waiting room.  So we sat with him (only two allowed in the room at once) and took turns.  I asked for ice chips and fed those to him, and he finally fell asleep.  He did have to pee twice, so we knew his kidneys were functioning, etc.  It was just scary.  He had a nose bleed, so I think that's where they said the blood was coming from.

Andy, Danny and I left around midnight, and April and Taran stayed there until Dad was released around 3AM.    Andy had to awaken me last night because I was so restless I was hitting him in the face.  4:30 came around last this morning, and I remember dreaming but not so much sleeping.  Between the storm and getting up to use the bathroom, I was just a total wreck.  So I'm not sure I'm going to make the day today.

My inlaws are coming today still, and my BIL has not left.  He wants to eat supper as a family and THEN drive back tonight.  Whatever.  I'm seriously so tired and numb that I don't care.  The Mutterspaughs were supposed to come for supper tonight with the little ones, which of course I was looking forward to, and I had to cancel on them.  The house is just in shambles.  Andy started projects this week and just didn't finish them.  The dining room table has my scrap booking project (due next Sunday) all over it.  The dishwasher broke on Monday, so we have clean and dirty dishes everywhere (who can tell the difference?)  Because magically the dishes just get washed when you put them in the sink...right?

Sigh.  So that's my tale.  Thinking maybe I'll split here at noon.  Last night as I was sitting in the ER with my mom, it occured to me that I'm the mom now.  The doctor was all concerned about how I was doing, you know, in my "state".  I was really fine.  Andy, the ever amazing husband, who so graciously forgave me for my shortcomings on Wednesday night, was the most amazing support system ever.  God has blessed me far beyond what I deserve.

I'm going to go get a replacement pianist for my dad for Sunday, because our interim pastor just has no idea on how anything anywhere is done.

Oh, and here's a pic.  Because I can hold my cereal bowl on my belly. 

I didn't really mean that...

So I spouted off the other night, got really hormonal, got really tired, and ended up offending my Handsome Husband.  It was one of those times where the stupidity of your words hits you square in the face after they've left your mouth.  Like spitting into the wind...which I wouldn't suggest.  I was angry, and probably will be again, but in the meantime I was really sorry for how I came across.

What did I learn from this?  Don't practice hormonal texting.  It's like drunk texting.  You don't remember what you said until the next morning when it's too late.


My BIL has been here all week, and he will leave tomorrow night as he's high-fiving my MIL and FIL through the doorwar as they come in for a week.  Not even enough time to wash the sheets on the guest bed.

In all honesty, it hasn't been bad.  It IS, however, a glance into what it's going to be like to feed two grown men in the future.  And if he's anything like his daddy?  We might as well give up right now and buy a farm.  I think I need to find some meat alternatives.

My eye is on the prize, however, of that fateful day after they're all gone.  The day I get to rip down my guest room and make room for the nursery!!  Will it be next weekend?  Maybe it will be...  Will I begin taking pictures off the wall while they're sleeping?  Maybe I will...  Will they come in to a simple mattress on the floor?  Well.  Probably not.  Mostly because I can't lift very much.

I didn't really mean that.  Yes, yes I did.

Belly Dancing

There are some things about pregnancy that I could do without, and most of them are mental.  I'm constantly worried if I'm doing everything right.  Did I move the right way?  Did I exercise too much?  Did I exercise too little?  The one time where all I wanted was turkey subs...did that give him some neurological defect?  Do the techs and doctors detect something they're not telling us, because we opted out of testing?  How common are still births?  And on...and on...and on...

On my computer screen, I have posted some Bible verses.  Verses about how tomorrow will take care of itself.  About how God has made everything beautiful in His time.  About how here on earth we have trials and sorrows, but to take heart because He has overcome the world.  There are so many Biblical promises, and statistics and scientific research to back up that I'm okay...but until my brain and heart decides to accept it...I could do without all the mental pressure.

But then again...the baby and I have this crazy bond.  And it seems whenever I get into these funky moods, he knows just when to kick me.  One of the best things about being pregnant is watching my belly dance.  Just lying in bed and staring at it and watching it move and jiggle.  And then I laugh and then he jumps again, and it's like a game we play.  It happens the most when I eat ice cream or when I have pineapple or watermelon.  He loves those things!  We lay there and watch the show- the little dance recital he puts on for us in utero.  And we clap for him and rub my belly and tell him what a good boy he is.  It sounds dumb, but it's what we do.

If my husband was any more handsome, I'd have to lock him in a closet.  He is so attentive and wonderful.  He does what I need him to, and even things that are just sweet surprises.  He will put his head on my belly and just lay there and hold us- like a family.  He's excited to be a daddy, and it's coming naturally.  He will mention things like, "Now that I'm going to be a dad..." and he keeps a journal of his feelings to some day pass along to our son.  He's proud of me and of us.  I have been blessed beyond measure with a man like him.

Tomorrow is 25...we are about one week away from being in the double digits with this pregnancy.  My BIL is here this week.  My MIL and FIL will arrive for a week on Friday.  Just breathe through it, because once the baby is here, I'll never get this time with him back.

Yesterday was 24 weeks.  24 weeks.  16 more to go until 40.  The funny thing is that when you’re first pregnant, the time can’t go fast enough.  And I’m pretty sure it’s because you’re puking and you’re not eating, and you can’t imagine ANYTHING worse than not being able to eat.  So you wish away the time.  In fact, you start reading AHEAD in all your pregnancy books; you wish away the first three months for better days to come.

Except, better days don’t come.

Instead!  You can’t eat ENOUGH!  And the aches and pains you thought you had when your fetus was a mere peanut inside you?  Well.  You ain’t felt nothing yet, sister.  And the feelings of, “will this ever be over?” turn into, “DON’T COME YET!  I’M NOT READY!!!”  And the panic you first felt when you found out you were finally pregnant and would your body keep it in, morphs into panic on how much IS it going to hurt when it finally comes out?

Father’s Day was an exciting venture for us this year.  I had Belly Boudior pictures taken for the Handsome Husband- the only thing I could really think of that I could ONLY give him now.  A one time only offer.  I was really pleased how they came out, and I put together a coffee table book of them for him.  I also put together a few for my dad- emphasis on the "belly" and less on the "boudior" part.

I'll spare the racy ones for a private moment.

THAT'S funny...you don't LOOK pregnant...

When you're pregnant, people say stupid things.

And it's not just the horror stories of being in labor for 135 hours, or 16 pound babies, or using the jaws of life on your hootch to get the infant out.

It's comments like these:

One (well meaning?) grandma-type lady spouted out, "Oh, don't worry honey! You'll be gaining like crazy in a few months! You'll lose that waistline in no time at all!"

"Oh!  You're pregnant!  You must not be that far along."

"That's so funny, because you don't even look pregnant!"

"I had no idea!  You actually look SKINNIER to me!"

And my all time fave:

"Well, if it's any consolation, you only look pregnant from the front."

So meanwhile, while I am turning sideways in the mirror, checking out my bump from every possible angle, wearing strategic wardrobe that emphasises the baby in there, watching my caloric intake, trying to wear makeup, shoving my feet into heels whenever possible...people still, still do not know I'm pregnant.  And they make these aforementioned comments, perhaps in an attempt to make me feel like LESS of a barn side, but in reality, they just make me growl inside.

"Actually, I'm 23 weeks this week.  That's 6 months, give or take so...I'm pretty big!"

"Well, he's not a pound yet so, it's normal not to be THAT big right now."

"Oh, skinnier?  Well, I haven't gained that much."

"I'm working out regularly, because it's not healthy to gain a ton of weight..."

And I find myself justifying why my belly isn't bigger.  Why I haven't gained more weight.  Why it's important to me to stay fit and healthy while I'm making my son.  Do you know of any pregnant woman who is exhausted constantly, who can't eat her favorite foods because they gag her, who is so terribly excited about the life growing inside her that she says, "Oh, I don't REALLY want to look like anything is going on in there."

And then it hit me!

Women LOVE other women getting fat.  Especially in pregnancy.  Because it gives them something to talk about.  Jessica Simpson just had a baby and she was HUGE.  She was on every magazine cover and late night show talking about just how big she was.  She actually has a deal now for a TV show about her LOSING said weight.  She's making a ton of money off of her lack of self control during her pregnancy.

I'm picturing ladies chatting about me and my pregnancy.

Scenario #1:

Lady #1- Did you see Libbie?
Lady #2- She's pregnant!  Did you hear?
Lady #3- Yes, she looks great.  I hear she's working out through her pregnancy.
Lady #1- Libbie is amazing.
Lady #2- Yes, a goddess among women.
Lady #3- I aspire to be her.
(everyone smiles and nods affectionately)

This is a convo that's never going to happen, because women don't like to talk about how other women are better.  Scenario #2 is more accurate:

Scenario #2:

Lady #1:  DID YOU SEE LIBBIE?!?
Lady #2: YES!  SHE'S PREGNANT!!
Lady #3: SHE LOOKS LIKE THE BROAD SIDE OF A BARN!
Lady #1: HOW'S SHE EVER GOING TO GET THAT WEIGHT OFF!
Lady #2: I GAINED 100 LBS WITH MY FIRST!!
Lady #3: I GAINED 300 LBS WITH MY FIRST!!
Lady #2: I HAD GESTATIONAL DIABETES AND THEY HAD TO SAW MY ARM OFF RIGHT BEFORE LABOR!!
Lady #1:  I WAS SO LARGE THEY NEEDED A PULLY SYSTEM TO GET ME OUT OF BED!
Lady #4:  WHY ARE YOU GIRLS TALKING IN ALL CAPS?!

Oh it's accurate.  Just take my word for it.  This is what I'm working with here.

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Today is 23 weeks.  My "What to Expect When You're Expecting" journal  tells me this is month 6.  In 17 (or less) weeks, I'll be holding my tiny son in my arms.  Tomorrow is another ultrasound- checking out that little spine of his to make sure everything is okay.  Hopefully he is cooperating and we can get a good 3D look at his tiny face.  Here are his pics from last time:  (sorry they're upside down)...

Are you sure it's a boy?  Yes, yes we're sure.  (Look at this pic and think knees and winky...)

 

This is also one of his favorite tricks- laying ALL on the left side of my stomach.  So when I wake up in the morning, my belly looks like this:

Cannot wait to meet him :)

I want it ALL and I want it NOW.

Today, on this the 22nd week of pregnancy, I'm beginning to get a little unnerved that I do not have a nursery for my son.  The room is there.  The ideas are in my head.  A few things are bought and waiting expectantly in said room- a swing and play pen are sitting patiently in their boxes.  We have a crib and a mattress.  We have a lovely little (albeit uncomfortable) rocking chair.  The patterns are bought for the crib skirt and rocking chair cover, and the fabric is chosen with care.  My dad said I may have the little table and chair that were lovingly purchased for me when I was a baby.  So the bones are there- the foundation of the nursery is there.  But the nursery room itself is still a guest bedroom.

The crib and mattress and tiny table and chair are still at my parents house. 
The rocking chair is slowly being mounded with blankets and other things that just need put away.
The guest bed is still up.  (With a ton of stuff stored under it...where do I go with it?)

And before I can go much farther, we have two sets of guests coming within about a week of each other.  Everyone wants a piece of the pie before the baby comes.  So this girl has to wait until July to rip down the bed and then start the construction process.

Another clincher?  No organization project is as easy as it seems.  Where do I go with the clothing that now lives in the chest of drawers?  Where do I go with all the stuff that's stored under the bed in there?  Instruments and blankets and backpacking supplies.  Where does it all go??  There's a small closet in the area that goes up the stairs to the attic.  It now contains my wedding dress and winter coats.  Where do I put that stuff?

So it's going to be that SOMEWHERE needs to be cleaned and dunged out so that I can move all the other stuff that needs cleaned and dunged out around so everything has a place.  AND I WANT IT ALL DONE NOW!

Energy.  That would be the third and final kink in this chain.  How to do everything when you have no energy to do anything?

I simply cannot wait to meet our son.  I can't wait to see his face and breathe his skin, and dress him in all the little outfits I washed with care last night.  And perhaps that's why I'm so adamant that this all be perfect for him.  For the little being that won't comprehend his surroundings for many weeks.  Because my love is so deep and so wide for him. 

This is lengthy now.  But it's my blog so who cares?  Next week is my five month appointment and also the second of three ultrasounds.  Never Google 22 week fetus images, because you're not going to like what you see.  Here's what a normal baby looks like:


Except my baby boy is completely flipped and his feet are where his head should be.  Imagine a little catcher in my belly- knees up, hands beside his head.  Also, my placenta is a little farther up- think belly button area.  He kicks and kicks, but Andy still can't feel it.  Last night we tried again and they're just not strong enough yet.  But they're there. 

Enough for today.  HE makes everything beautiful in His time.  Including my nursery.

It's a son!

Friday morning was incredible.  Dad was cracking jokes, April and Andy were playing "Draw Something" with each other on their iPhones, mom was nervously hugging her pocketbook, commenting on Montgomery Gentry singing on the morning show broadcast on the TV on the wall.  (How DOES he stand those leather pants when it's so hot out?)  All these normalises made me feel so much at ease!

We get into the room, and I lay on the table, Andy by my side.  Did he look WAY more handsome than normal?  Probably.  The nice thing about that office is, they warm the goop they put on your stomach.  Sometimes it's the little things...  Okay, so the tech starts the procedure and then takes the wand away from my belly.  "Did you want to know the gender today?"  We all nod in agreement.  She put the wand back on, and there he is!  HE!  We scream, "IT'S A BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  All five of us, just scream it!!! 

Turns out, SB is in a catcher's position in my belly.  He's facing front, feet down, knees up.  So his little thingy was out in the open for everyone to see and go on about at great lengths.  Which we did.  When I posted on FB that it was a boy, many people were like, "Oh, they could be wrong!"  I'm like...no, no they're not.  His face is in my placenta, which is at the top of my stomach/belly button area, so the 3D didn't work so well because of that.

The only thing they're a little concerned about is his spine.  Because of his position, they couldn't see it very well.  She listed it as subnormal spine..."no son of mine is subnormal!" I wanted to shout!  He's perfect and amazing and he's hung like a horse!  But instead I'm like, "What does that mean?"  She explained that nothing was the matter, they just needed a better look.  So in three weeks I go back.

And then she added that I needed to also come back in ten weeks because of my "elevated BMI".  AGAIN, I wanted to shout, "You fool!  I lost 45 lbs last year in hopes of conceiving this baby!  I am the picture of health!"  But instead I said, "Okay, 10 weeks is fine."  I mean hey, I get two more looks at our son.  Maybe he'll move and I will be able to get a 3D version of his face!

But one of the best things ever is hearing the Handsome Man tell his mom she's going to have a grandson.  Having my dad hug me so tight I couldn't breathe.  Watching my sister dance around in the hallway...because we only have one boy in the family.  Jackson is it- and now SBB (Someday Baby BOY).  So maybe they'll grow up to be best friends?  Maybe many things.