Her Hugeness with all the being Huge

The hugeness has commenced. I know I have said this before, but this time I really mean it. I find myself staring at my stomach in sheer disbelief. It just looks so weird.

Last night I was standing in the bathroom, facing the mirror with my shirt pulled up over my belly. Just staring at it. Trav walked past. Stopped dead in his tracks. "Sheeeeesh. You are super preggo baby. We need a picture of this." It has gotten that big.

Then I was reading Your Pregnancy Week by Week, the book my doctor gave me at the beginning of this whole mess. Apparently I should plan on gaining about 1 pound a week from here on out. 1 pound a week. Interesante. If all things go as this book claims, that will be at least 11 more pounds. I have to say that will only put me at 22 pounds for the whole baby growing period, so I think I can handle that. I am just very afraid of what this belly is going to like when 11 more pounds pack their way on to my body. I am also very afraid of what my ass is going to look like. So far, it looks pretty normal. I think you would be pressed to be able to tell that there is a giant belly on the front of this body if you are only looking from the back. I may be insane, but that is how things feel and look from my perspective.

Back to the book. There isn't much development going on with Junior from here on out. Mostly he is just gaining weight and getting folds in his brain. His lungs are pretty much the only things that will continue to develop. This is good news because if he was born right now, he would have a pretty darn good shot at being a-ok. However, since the book doesn't have a ton to report on by way of development, it has taken a nasty turn to telling you a lot of things that could go or already have gone wrong. Like I learned last night you are not supposed to drink Green Tea for the 3 months before conception and not at all in the first trimester. That may be a problem. I had a giant mug of Green Tea every morning up until the morning after I peed on that tell tale stick. So, did that giant mug of Green Tea antioxidants cause problems in my kid? Here's the fun part...we won't know 'till he's born! Yea! This was one of a multitude of things the author discusses in the chapters I was reading last night. So now I have all these horrible maybe's and what if's running around in my head. For 11 more weeks. The book didn't say anything about massive amounts of ice cream being detrimental in any way so we should be good there.

Bring on the baby showers, I need some distraction from my own brain.

Gestational Diabetes Free!

All was great at the doctor yesterday. I passed my glucose test! I am super happy about this not only because it means a healthy, safe home for the one that kicks a lot, but also because that means I do not have to go on a restricted diet. I have never done really well with restricted diets. There tends to be a lot of rationalization instead of simply eating what I am supposed to eat and avoiding what I am supposed to avoid. Like, I can totally have this giant order of french fries with my fried fish sandwich if I have an apple for dinner. Yeah...that's healthy.

In addition to that great news, I of course got to hear his heartbeat. It was a little slower than last time, but still within the range it is supposed to be. This time it was extra cool because his kicking and moving was audible too. He was definitely awake. And apparently training for the Iron Man.

So I am now required to go to the doctor every two weeks. For eight weeks. And then once a week until he decides to come out and grace the planet with his presence. That is not a lot of time.

Travis is super excited. I am super freaked out. Travis is underestimating the impact this kid is going to have on our lives. I am overestimating the insane hugely transforming and scary impact this kid is going to have on our lives. This tends to be the pattern we have for any big decision/change in our world. Trav just knows it will all work out and I am a spazoid until it all works out. He's calm, I am building a bomb shelter and measuring him for his protective bubble wrap suit. You know, rational stuff.

If this adventure turns out how our other adventures have, we will be tired but happy. I think that should be my new mantra.

Silver lining?

So the good news is the basement floor is clean as a whistle and all the shelves are organized. The bad news, we were forced to clean it when the floor drain backed up and flooded the basement. Which really wouldn't have been that big of a deal if Travis and I weren't incredibly lazy when it comes to the basement. We have an "out of sight, out of mind" philosophy with that particular part of our house.

To our credit, a lot of the stuff down there is on shelves so it was not damaged. Our luggage however was not, and had standing water in it. I am interested to see how that is going to smell once it dries out.

My sister Nicki was generous enough to give us five huge boxes of clothes for our soon to arrive little critter. The clothes range from infant sizes to 2 year old sizes. Guess what wasn't up on shelves yet. Yeah.....cardboard is not a good barrier for water. Like at all. It is impressive how many loads of laundry come out of five huge boxes of kid's clothes.

There were some other things that were unfortunately ruined that I am sad about. A couple framed prints I had hanging in the now nursery were resting on the floor and are now a lovely water damaged texture. And some books Travis had in a crate were not spared the wrath of the overflowing drain. But hey, most of my wrapping paper was saved so we've got that!

Roto Rooter is on their way to our house this morning.

Parties!

The string of baby showers has commenced.

The first of three was on Saturday. This was more of a mom/friends shower than a true baby shower. I just have to say, my girlfriends are amazing. They all chipped in and had a girl's party for Molly and I at Mariah's. We had a great time. Mariah even went all out and made a personalized Apples to Apples game. Funny. I swear if I am going to experience bladder control issues during this pregnancy it is going to be when I am with that group of people.

They also made incredible food. That is one thing I will always know, love and cherish about my group of friends. We like food. A lot of food. And really good food. Things like sweet potato crisps and pasta bakes and individual cakes. Seriously, does it get better than your own cake? That you don't have to share? The only way that can be better is if you stuff yourself silly with all of the other super delicious food and then have your own cake.

We had an agreement that those bitches backed out on. There were to be no presents at this party. Those sneaky McSneakertons decided that no, in fact they just said no "baby" presents. Presents for the moms were totally acceptable and within the agreement previously made. I call shenanigans. Lovely, relaxing, sweet smelling shenanigans. I now am the proud owner of a gift certificate to Ultimate Salon and Spa and a whole box of fantastic goodies from Lush. They do make it hard to stay mad.

Above all else, the comfort it gives me knowing these are my friends is indefinable. They are amazing and I am so incredibly lucky to have them in my life.

Squish, squish, squish

Never before have I been excited for a doctor's appointment. I have an appointment tomorrow morning and I am excited. Aside from getting some blood work results that will hopefully say I have not acquired gestational diabetes, there really isn't going to be much going on at this visit. But it has been four weeks since I've heard the little sucker's heartbeat and I can't wait. It is such a reassuring sound. His kicks and stretches and flips are all reassuring too, but nothing compares to that squishy train sound.

Somebody stop me.

How many fears can one person obsess about at once? A lot apparently. I am still having fears that I would consider normal for a 7 months pregnant person. Did you see that? I am 7 months pregnant. Good lord.

Anyway, I am worried that this kid is going to come out with eight eyes and one ear in the middle of his forehead, but I am also very scared about what is going to happen to this body of mine. I am hoping things will go back to semi-normal after this kid comes out. The fears I have I don't think are irrational, but I feel guilty for being so worried about them. Here they are:
1. What if my hips spread out and don't go back?
2. What if my "parts" stretch out and don't go back?
3. Will my ankles ever come back?

If I sit here long enough, I am sure I could make a list down to my little sausage toes, but who needs to see that? The guilty comes in because I feel like I should spend my worry on things not so...superficial. Like, oh I don't know, this kid being healthy. Yeah, that might be a good one. Or how about what kind of parents we will be? Nope. Lately, I just come right back to me. My body. What is going to happen to me? Yeah, I am going to be super at this selfless parenting thing.

Ummm...I need that

This kid is out of control. He is all over the place. I cannot describe how strange it is to feel something moving inside your body. And know it is alive. I mean you can feel food, liquid, gas and things of the like moving around inside from time to time. But those things come out in a very not alive state. Not this time. This time something alive is the cause of all this squirming. Something alive that will be part of my life f-o-r-e-v-e-r. It is just so weird. I am not even close to wrapping my brain around this one.

The weirdness of having a baby aside, the sensation of him moving is weird enough in and of it itself. It makes me wonder what he is doing in there. Is he bored? Too scrunched up? Does he mind my singing?

Yesterday, he took it a bit too far though. I could seriously feel him moving one of my organs. I believe it was my stomach. It was the most bizarre feeling. It was like he had had enough of having to share that particular spot so he just dug in his heel and pushed it over. Apparently he thinks he is the king of this castle. I beg to differ!

I may poke him from time to time, but I do not try to relocated his organs!

Big ol' Bump

Just a quick size note:

I now have to slide my keyboard closer to the edge of my desk. I can no longer scoot my chair in all the way and my arms just don't stretch that far. This stomach is cumbersome to say the least.

But I haven't started waddling! Ha!

Brain issues...still

I cannot wait to not have to share my brain anymore. The whole pregnancy experience is interesting and even pretty cool sometimes. But this hopefully temporary loss of brains is killing me.

I still cannot form sentences correctly, and it is increasingly difficult to remember why I entered a room. But what is really bothering me is that I cannot seem to find the right words to express my thoughts. I know in my head what I want to say, but by the time the thought is coming out of my mouth, it sounds nothing like the original thought I was planning on conveying. And no amount of restructuring words makes it more clear. In fact it just seem to make it more confusing and then I end up having no idea what I was trying to say in the first place.

You want to be frustrated? Have an argument in which you know you have a strong point with which to stand your ground. Then lose all possible ability to express that point. Or any of the subpoints supporting your awesome point. Try multiple times to get your point out. Fail. Cry. Rinse and repeat.

Hormones are fun!

New fears

So far I have been limiting my irrational fears to things involving not being a good host to the furry little critter inhabiting my body. Now that we are getting closer to the end we are moving onto different fears.

First: How exactly is this thing coming out? Riiiiight.
I figured knowledge is power, so I better start reading up on labor and delivery. Knowledge is not power, it is frightening. I had a general idea of what was going to happen, but not such a graphic idea. Pretty sure if I could skip the whole "transition" phase of labor it would be nice. I have no doubt that I will be enjoying the advances in medicine and partaking in an epidural. But then "what if" creeps into my mind. What if it doesn't take? What if everything goes so fast there's no time? What if I actually split in two and can't be put back together?

Second: What am I going to do with this kid once it does come out?
I have a pretty good idea of how to care for babies as I used to babysit a lot, and more recently have been a fairly active participant in my nieces' and nephews' lives. But now I am afraid there is so much I don't know. That stuff someone couldn't know without having the baby live with them day in and day out. What about that stuff? I assume there is a pretty steep learning curve, but what if we don't get it? Does a defenseless child deserve to have bumbling parents that don't know anything? I would like to think any child deserves better than that. Poor little guy. He has no idea what he is in for.

I vote no on the waddling.

While telling Kari that I am not enjoying the feeling of pelvic bones moving, she tells me what that means. I thought it just meant my body was preparing for its most horrific adventure yet. I wasn't far off. She was referring to the waddle. The dreaded waddle.

I have been trying to be a fairly cool pregnant chick so far. I am not by any means saying I have succeeded, but I think I am doing alright. Now who I ask you can pull off the cool pregnant chick with a waddle? No one. That's who.

I am convinced I am not going to waddle. Not going to happen. I am not a waddler. I realize this may be an unattainable goal, but I am going to try dammit.

Back to the cool pregnant chick thing. I think the main reason I am concerning myself with that is that I cannot believe how old having a kid is making me feel. Eh...maybe grown up is a better way to describe this feeling. Either way, it is not a feeling I am used to. It is also becoming a feeling that I am not sure I like very much. I liked the feeling of thinking I was not old enough to be a true grown up. Being responsible for a helpless human definitely falls in the grown up feeling category.

Walking throughout the mall with a giant bag of clothes from Motherhood, also a very old, grown up feeling. I am used to carrying Gap and American Eagle bags. Not big, pregnant, 31 year old woman bags. Those are reserved for my eyes.

The things they don't tell you.

A rare second post of the day brought to you by my ever diminishing memory and the fact I just now remembered this.

One of the phrases I hear or read a lot about pregnancy is, "they don't tell you this." Every time I heard this, I thought there wasn't too much I hadn't been told. My sister was very honest with me about what was going on physically with her when she was pregnant. You know like when her pubic bones were moving and she felt like she had ridden a bike for 2023 miles...every day. Stuff like that. Because of her honesty/freak outs, stories from other gestating ladies, and books, magazines, websites, I figured my preparedness was pretty well complete.

So when the bike riding soreness started last week...not too shocked. However, last night as I happily laid down to sleep (read: toss and turn), a strange sensation began. My hoo-ha felt very....full. There is no better description than that. Full. With a bit of pressure. I can say I am now an expert at Kegel exercises. That was the only thing I could come up with that made me not freak out. The pressure was the freak out portion. I instantly convinced myself that something was horribly wrong and I was going to have this kid on the floor in my bathroom. Given the size of my bathroom, I should have stopped my irrational thought right there.

Pressure and fullness are both gone today. But I can say, that is something they didn't tell me.

Leg Hair: My new arch enemy

Shaving while pregnant should be an Olympic sport. Never before have I gotten out of breath trying to remove leg hair. No matter which way I turn or bend this giant kid belly is in the way. I am definitely fighting a losing battle.

Because of the sheer exhausting properties of trying to shave, I have already become a bit lax on this particular part of grooming. It has nothing to do with my laziness or desire to stay in bed in the morning challenging the alarm clock to a five round snooze bout. The fact that it is still too cold for anything other than long pants also is not helping my cause.

The problem with being lax about shaving...? Your hair doesn't stop growing simply because you don't feel like tending to it. As I am doing my best to repress the memory of the amount of hair washed down the drain this morning, I will just say it was no longer stubbly...at all.

I fear for the summer. I am on a path of ever increasing belly size and that is proving to make things more difficult. I may have to invest in a some sort of swim pants simply to avoid getting my family caught in my leg hair while in the pool this summer.

Early early early

Lately all I seem to hear about is people having their babies early. My friend Michelle had her son a month early. My friend Heather just had her baby at 36 weeks. A lady my mom met in Target had her baby at 26 weeks. It was one pound. That is a package of butter. A woman I am in contact with through work had her first son at 27 weeks. He was two packages of butter.

I will be 27 weeks tomorrow. Yeah. I think I can very safely say I am no where near ready to have a baby in my house. The fact that the crib is packed full of things, only two of which are bedding material, might be a good hint of my readiness. Well that and the cans of paint and ladder that are currently taking up most of the room.

I can say my body seems done with the hosting thing. It is tired and sore, already. And we've got three more months to go. I am constantly ready for a nap, and the pain in my butt is beyond annoying. But I'm glowing...according to some people

I have come to the realization that I am going to feel about the size of a house from here on out. I haven't started the waddle yet, but I cannot imagine it is too far off. We no longer have a bump. We have a certified giant belly. This measurement is affirmed every time I see Trevor. It goes pretty much exactly like this:

Trevor: Jackie!
Me: Hey Trev! How are you?
Trevor: Good!.....Your belly is really big!

I suppose I can't fault him for stating the obvious. Because damn. Petite has never been a word used for my physical description, but it is getting laughed out of the house these days.

I am interested to see what my weight gain is at my next doctor's appointment. I don't own a scale so it is always like a game show when I have an appointment and step on the gynormous scale they have at the doctor's office. Seriously, I feel like cattle getting on that thing. At my 24 week appointment I had gained 10 pounds since the beginning of growing this kid. I feel like my stomach has gained about 32 more. And I still have just over 13 weeks to go!

The constant state of weird that is going on is just that. Weird. There is no possible way to feel like myself. I HAVE A HUMAN INSIDE OF ME. I wish there was a better way to explain this feeling, but that's all I have come up with so far. Strangely not myself. I don't feel depressed or anything like that, just different. I suppose the hormone cocktail coursing through my veins probably isn't helping matters much either.

Pain my butt...literally

This whole sciatic nerve thing is for the birds. It has gotten to the point that pretty much any amount of walking causes a sharp stabbing sensation in my right butt cheek. And lucky me, it is starting to slowly spread down my right leg. I believe this is because this kid is sitting so low. He is going to be hanging down around my knees by June I am sure of it.

Could this pain during walking be a sign that I am destine to lay on the couch with the dog at all times possible? I think so. So does she.

I do think it is endlessly funny that I can say this kid is already a pain in the ass though. I guarantee my mom thinks it's funny too.

I get the pleasure of doing a glucose test today. It is done to make sure I don't have gestational diabetes. So I have to drink this super duper sugary drink and then have my blood drawn exactly 1 hour later. People have warned me that it is not good, but I was thinking how bad could it really be? Until the doctor instructed me to get it as cold as possible and "chug it." It has been awhile since I have been instructed to chug a beverage, and I don't think we can count previous experiences as medically necessary.

I am not looking forward to this test for two reasons. 1. I do not like orange flavored drinks. Unless it is mixed with Malibu or ice cream. 2. I hate hate hate getting my blood drawn. I have to look away to ensure I don't pass out. Needles are a creation of Lucifer and I should never have to look at one. Especially one being jammed through my skin and into my blood vessels. Nasty. Can't wait for 4:30!

Reality? I laugh at you.

One would think by this point I would have accepted what is about to happen. One would also be thinking with the rational thought lost upon implantation of this little critter. I still find myself having mini freak outs. Along the lines of "What in God's green earth have we done?!" And, "How am I going to possibly be a good mother? I still think poop and fart jokes are hilarious." I am very lucky to have a very understanding partner in all of this. Not to mention very patient. Every pregnant person should have a Travis.

I am also very lucky to have a couple friends that already have small children. Not just for when I have questions, but for my freak outs. It is so comforting when both Kari and Suzanne tell me they still can't believe they are mothers. They both love their kids more than they can possibly explain, but they still find it strange that they are moms. It makes me realize the freak out part may never go away, and that I am not a spastic spazzy McSpazerton...at least not in that regard.

I am calming down about being ready for this kid to show up. The painting in the baby's room is almost done and we have scheduled some time to finish the trim around the door. We even have a crib mattress now. Who said I procrastinate and my baby was going to have to share the dog's bed? Although, I got an update from my sweet Becky Gibson. Yeah...her nursery is not only completely done, but totally gorgeous. She is due two weeks after me. I think I hate her.

Non-Belly Swelling

My feet are no longer look like drastically overstuffed sausages. When we got off the plane in Mexico, my feet felt a little funny. Then I took my shoes off to put on flip flops. Wow. The swelling in my feet was nothing short of impressive. In a scary, I can't see my ankles kind of way. They looked like I had a horrible allergic reaction to my socks. Not pretty. Especially in a warm weather climate where sandals are the only footwear packed for the trip. There's nothing cuter than super fat feet crammed into cute little sandals. Oh wait, the only thing cuter is the deep red impressions left on said fat feet from said cute little sandals.

So needless to say, I am happy to have my normal feet back. My hands are also back to almost normal. (There was a real fear that I wasn't going to be able to get my wedding ring off at one point.) I am curious as to how long the normalcy will last, but I am enjoying it while it is here.

The boobs and belly however, not normal. I mean they are normal for someone playing host to a forming child, but not normal as normal can be defined in my life. My shirt is doing this neat trick where it keeps getting stuck between the bottom of my boobs and the top of my belly. Like there is a hungry shirt monster in there that won't let go of the delicious cotton it has found.

Back In Action

Well, we are back from Mexico. Boo. It was fantastic. The weather was unbelievable. The wedding was gorgeous, and Melanie was the most beautiful bride I have ever seen.

It was a bit awkward for me since I was the only one (yet again) not having the occasional beverage of the alcohol variety. Awkward isn't the right word. Different is better. Frustrating could also be used to describe certain moments. But we have been through this before. No need to beat an annoyingly sober horse.

I did learn dancing is a different experience when one is completely sober and pregnant. There is no such thing a sexy dance moves when you are six months pregnant. They don't exist. I seriously felt like Robin Williams in a fat suit shakin' my groove thang. My very large groove thang. It is also next to impossible to be light on your feet which is an issue I have with dancing anyway, so precious bambino wasn't helping matters...at all.

I don't know what changed in the five days we were gone, but this kid has suddenly decided sleeping is not nearly as necessary as it was before. He is moving around at an almost constant pace. It's unreal. I think it was Mexico. I think I should stay there as it obviously stimulated my baby and was good for him. And I think I should be allowed to consume that much fresh guacamole every day for the rest of my life.

It is very strange to me how I worry about how the silliest, smallest things will affect my body now. I mean it makes sense since I am now solely responsible for the safety of an alien being while it grows things like arms and brain cells and stuff, but I am surprised at how irrational I am about it. And how much outside reassurance I need to feel like I am doing an alright job at this whole gestation thing.

We went snorkeling while in Cabo San Lucas. It was so so cool. Anyway, it is next to impossible to not swallow at least some salt water when swimming in the ocean. Disgusting as it is. I am not very good at operating the whole snorkel apparatus so I just gave up on it and held my breath to go underwater and see the cute fishies. Once we got back to the boat, I was so anxious to feel him move again. I was certain that the small amount of salt water I had ingested or the irregular breathing from swimming under water was not a good idea and I had ruined everything. Ahhhh rational thought. How I miss thee.

Oh oh Mexico!

We leave in 19 hours for Cabo San Lucas. I am so excited! I cannot wait for sunshine. Sunshine that comes with warm air! And palm trees! And beaches!

We are getting this to go on this trip because Miss Melanie is marrying a boy. I also can't wait for that. Mostly because she has to wear a dress! Well, that and I am very happy for them and love them both very much.

Did I mention we get to go to Mexico?!?! I have never been and am super excited to eat my way through our resort. It is an all-inclusive resort, so I have to admit it would be better if I could eat and drink my way through the resort, but I think I'll survive.

I am not excited about the whole wearing a swimsuit in public thing. Not that I ever am, but this soccer ball sized uterus I am sporting? Not making a swim suit any cuter. I best get used to the look though. It may be my permanent attire for the summer.