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.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
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.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Rolling a spare...
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.
--
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 :)
Friday, August 24, 2012
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.
---
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.
---
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)
---
The chair is still in the box. Where it will stay. Until the baby is old enough to sit in it.
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.
---
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.
---
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)
---
The chair is still in the box. Where it will stay. Until the baby is old enough to sit in it.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
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!
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.
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 :)
Friday, August 10, 2012
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