7 Months

Well here we are. Officially enormous. We've reached the seven month mark and I definitely feel pregnant. I still feel good, but still pretty achy. Also, my feet have grown a half-size. Seriously, I went from a size 8.5 shoe to a 9. It happened so fast though, that I haven't been able to find the time to get some new shoes, so I pretty much hobble around with bloody, blistered heels all day.

I feel you squirming all the time in there, and want to warn you that you should get it all out of your system because I assume you're about to run out of room to move around much. You get the hiccups all the time, and seem to be most active at night and on Sundays. I doubt you're actually more active on Sundays, but I'm certainly less active so I'm much more aware of you. In fact, as I type this you're bouncing all over the place.

We've been gradually collecting various things for your arrival. You have some onesies, some binkies, some receiving blankets, and a little going home outfit for when we leave the hospital. We're really looking forward to moving into our new place though, so that we can finally start setting up your nursery. I think my nesting instinct is kicking in, which is sad because I don't have a nest to nest in right now.

I do want some serious props though. I am seven months pregnant and 30 pounds huge, yet this last week I've still managed to walk to and from work each day, totaling about 5 miles of walking a day. My feet are swollen and sore, my back kills, and I'm utterly exhausted--but I know that I need to keep my body moving as much as possible for as long as I can. I will probably use this as a martyr chip for pretty much the rest of your life. Like, you won't be able to complain to me that your feet are tired when we go furniture shopping, because I'll always say "you know, when I was seven months pregnant with you and 200 pounds, I walked 5 miles each day just to get to work so that I could provide for you." Then I'll win and you'll have to be quiet and well behaved.

This last week your Uncle Jack and his girlfriend Joy came and stayed with us for a while. Your uncle, being the baby of the family and a typical 20-something year old guy, is less than intrigued with pregnancy and all things baby-related. However, one night I was lying on the couch and Uncle Jack just happened to see you give me a giant kick, and I've never seen anybody lunge so feverishly at my abdomen like he did. Fortunately you were in the mood to say 'hi' and gave him one more good belt right smack dab on his hand. Uncle Jack was awe struck and truly elated. I've never seen him so enthusiastic about anything, quite frankly. I was so grateful that you were feeling playful right at that very moment. Now I think the two of you are bonded, and I will feel less guilty leaving you for weeks at a time at his house while your dad and I take exotic vacations some day. Feel free to give him a hard time.

I think as of right now we only have 70-something days left before you get here. We are so excited, and increasingly nervous. We can't wait to see your little face once and for all.

6 Months

The time is flying by and dragging along, all at once. On the one hand I can't wait to see your little face and introduce you to this world (and, I'm not gonna lie, I cannot wait to have my body all to myself again), but on the other hand there is so much to do, and so much to figure out, and so many naps I need to have that it's okay with me that you still have a little while left to bake.

These days, you are not the ideal roommate. In fact, once your lease is up in June I don't think I'll be renewing it. You and I are having a hard time figuring out how to both fit in my body. You seem to be struggling to find space, and prefer to hunker right up against my diaphragm.  This means that I spend a lot of time trying to get full breaths of air, which means that I have to yawn a lot, and sometimes hyperventilate until I almost die.

You are also making it pretty difficult for me to get a good night's rest, as I have to flip over about every 30 minutes to keep from breaking my hips. Hip pain has been a bit of an issue with you, in addition to quite a bit of round ligament pain.

This is not to say that I am oblivious to your own discomfort however. I'm pretty sure you get squished quite a bit, because you tell me to back up off every chance you get. Whenever I cross my legs and lean over my desk, you get really claustrophobic and kick me as hard as you can until I shift positions. And you really don't like it when I inadvertently stretch a certain way when lying in bed, because you kick me in the same place each time to tell me to knock it off and let you sleep. The last time you did this I thought it was your dad poking me and I told him to stop. It turns out though that was all you and your dad felt unjustly accused. I think you're kind of opinionated or something.

Anyway, things are still going swimmingly despite our occasional turf wars. This month we will sign up for a birthing class and will continue to try and figure out where we'll live this summer before and after you're born. Knowing that we're going to move in a couple of months has been difficult for me, because I would love nothing more than to start setting up a nursery for you. But at this point it's not worth doing all of that since we'll likely have to move everything not once but twice before you even get here. So instead we've been trying to just watch a lot of grown up movies while we still can.

21 Weeks and You are Mr. Plumpy Pants

Today was my/our monthly check up with the doctor, and frankly I’m a little irritated at you right now. For the first 18 weeks of pregnancy I managed to only gain 5 pounds. I was practically withering away. Then, three weeks later, I get on the scale and my total weight gain is 17 pounds. TWELVE POUNDS IN THREE WEEKS. That’s FOUR POUNDS PER WEEK. The doctor was confused as to the rapid weight gain, and so he weighed me three times, each with the same number attached. Then he took my blood pressure twice to make sure I wasn’t dying from the increased weight load, but if anything it was a little on the low side. So I’m healthy as a horse, and you are healthy as a horse, but one of us is filling out a little too quickly and I very much need it not to be me.  

He reviewed with me your stats from the last ultrasound, and said your brain and spine and bones and organs all look great. I got to listen to your heartbeat again, which is very strong, and I informed the doctor that you are kicking me almost constantly these days.  I’m not sure who to credit for your A+ development, but I’d like to think I have a little something to do with it. Your dad was always a little nervous about me being the sole person in charge of your survival, but so far we seem to be working out a good system. I go about life surviving, and you seem to go about your own live surviving right along with me. Together we are like a pair of gestational survivalists.

Today is Valentine’s Day. This will be the last one we ever have without you here. Technically you are my Valentine this year, even though your dad is the one getting a card. If it helps, I gave you three mini-brownies today as your treat (which may be a piece of the overall weight gain puzzle…but I can’t help it. You like sugary things and it’s a special occasion).

This weekend we’re taking you to Syracuse to do some house hunting for Aunt Shay and Uncle Mike. They are moving there in about 10 weeks for Uncle Mike’s school program, which makes us pretty excited because Syracuse is only about five hours away. We told them we’d scope out the places they’re looking at online and let them know what we think. I hope that now that I’m an almost-Mom, I’ll know what kinds of things to look for that are child safe and friendly for your cousins. Like hopefully if I see a hypodermic needle and a homeless guy sleeping in one of the rental houses I’ll know that’s a bad sign, whereas a nicely manicured neighborhood with lots of well- groomed children running about is probably a good sign. We’re also planning on hitting up Cooperstown on the way back to Boston to check out the Baseball Hall of Fame. Your dad is excited to take you there, even though I reminded him that you can’t open your eyes yet, and even if you could, it’s not like there’s a window on my uterus for you to look out of. He doesn’t seem phased by this though, and hopes nonetheless that you’ll enjoy the experience.

This week I also took the time to create a baby registry. I swear, if we end up with even a third of the stuff I put on there I will be overwhelmed. But I tried to just stick with the things everyone said I absolutely must have, so I guess we’ll have to just wait and see what happens. Either way, you are one expensive little person for someone who has yet to pay taxes or contribute to society in any meaningful way.

Until next time, be safe and have fun. And let’s both try to watch what we eat from here on out, okay?

5 Months! Half Way There!

Confession: This picture was actually taken at 21 weeks (not 20). But you get the gist. 

We're half-way there! And I am definitely feeling pregnant at this point. Sleeping has gotten a little more uncomfortable, clothes just don't fit right, and it's a little harder to do things like put on my socks in the morning. My hips hurt quite a bit these days too, which I read is an indicator that my pelvis is gearing up to expel you in a few short months.

As far as other pregnancy symptoms at 21 weeks goes, there isn't too much to report. You still continue to be remarkably good to your mother. I have quite an appetite these days, but sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between my regular big appetite and my pregnancy appetite. I could eat bean burritos all day long, every day, with extra beans and extra hot sauce. I can tell you are your father's son though because the only discernible craving I have is spicy foods. Grammy told me that when she was pregnant with your dad she craved spicy things too. The other day I asked your dad to make me the hottest salsa he could. So we went to the store and picked up four habenero peppers, several jalapenos  and other spices to try and appease my spicy palate...but to no avail. 

This morning you were nice enough to kick your dad's hand a couple of times. Thank you for doing that, as he's been waiting patiently(ish). We also got all your blood work back, and the results were great. Everything looks as normal as it possibly could, so the doctors have assured us that there's nothing to worry about with you (aside from the general things we're supposed to worry about, like your general health and well-being, your grades, your friends, the music you listen to, you getting your heart broken, you learning to drive, etc). We were never that worried to begin with, but it did feel nice to get some confirmation once and for all.

This weekend we are snowed in. The 5th biggest blizzard to hit New England hit us last night. We got the day off from work--well, I did anyway. Your dad still went into lab for a little while. Anyway, we spent most of the day yesterday watching movies, looking for post-docs job opportunities, and eating everything in sight.

We still don't know where exactly you'll be born this summer. We thought we would hear from the INL in January, but it's almost mid-February and we haven't heard a thing. There's a possibility that your dad won't get funded next year for grad school, so we are more motivated than ever to try and find alternate solutions. It's a little stressful not to know where we'll be or what we'll be doing when you arrive, but we take some backwards comfort in knowing that no matter what...you'll still be arriving, rain or shine. Everything else will work itself out.

You, My Son, Are a Boy

You're a boy! And a hyperactive one at that. Your dad and I had been looking forward to January 23rd for this entire pregnancy. We're just not the type of people who could bear waiting to find out what you were. So we've been counting down the days for the last 18 weeks.

January 23rd (Wednesday) was the coldest day in Boston in over two years. My intent was to go to work that morning and then meet your dad at the doctor's office at 10:30. That morning while on the train, we were informed that there was a fire in the next subway station, and that our train could not back up into the previous subway station. As a result, all of us passengers were ordered to evacuate the train and walk a half mile through the deep, dark dungeon of a tunnel to safety. The tunnel was dripping wet and muddy, and it was hard to squeeze past the train and the wall. The only thing that really kept my mood up was knowing I would get to see your little face in a few short hours.

When I got back up above ground, there were no buses available to shuttle me to work. So I was forced to walk about 25 minutes to work in high heeled boots on--did I already mention this?--the coldest day in Boston in two years. Yet I was still able to remain fairly upbeat because I knew I got to see you soon.

When I finally arrived to work, frozen and sore, I saw that there was a voicemail on my phone. I was heartbroken to learn that our ultrasound tech came down with the flu (Boston is under a "health emergency" right now, due to this being the worst flu season ever) and our appointment would have to be rescheduled. However sad I was, your dad was that much sadder.

Fortunately we were able to get an appointment for the following day. Almost immediately we were told that you were a little boy, and your dad and I both became so excited. We really both believed you were a boy, and had inadvertently attached to that for the last several months.

I must say however, that you were ill behaved during the ultrasound. You would not hold still. No seriously, you would not hold still. The ultrasound tech was becoming frustrated with you, because she couldn't get the measurements for your brain and kidneys, etc. She asked if I had had a cup of coffee that morning and I said I hadn't, but it occurred to me that I had downed a cup of hot chocolate and that you were probably bouncing off my uterine walls from a sugar high.

At one point you were sucking your thumb, and I asked her if that meant you were settling down a bit. She said that for most babies it does mean that, but that you were apparently quite gifted at both sucking your thumb and flopping all about. Mama's little multi-tasker...

For the most part everything about you checked out just fine, minus one small glitch. The doctor came in to talk to us about a little calcium deposit located in your heart, called an Ethogenic Focus. He assured us that it would go away and that your heart was very healthy and strong. But he did say that this little calcium deposit was one of several indicators for Downs Syndrome.

He said that the vast majority of babies who have this calcium deposit do not have Downs, but that 30% of babies who have Downs have this calcium deposit. He showed us my blood work that I took several weeks ago and said that before today, we had a 1 in 10,000 chance of having a Downs baby. But after today our odds increased to 1 in 5,000. He assured us that every other factor they look for was not present in you, such as bone length, neck thickness, the bridge of your nose, etc. We were kind of surprised to be getting this talk because of all the things we were bracing ourselves for, this was not one of them. At first I was shocked and worried, but overtime I've gotten over it. 

So on Monday I will go take a more specialized blood test to see if we can get some further answers. But neither your dad or I are worried and here is why: it won't matter.

I wish for you to be a healthy little boy, and want nothing more than for you to be born with the ability and capacity to everything you ever wanted to do. But above all else, I want for you to be a happy little boy.

When your dad and I signed up to have kids, we knew that we were signing up for a whole host of unknowns and things we can never control. If you have Downs Syndrome I will be sad for some reasons, but not for the important reasons. Mostly I will be happy that you are finally here, and that you were born into a family who will love you and cherish everything about you.

And if you don't have Downs Syndrome (which we're all but sure you don't) I'm sure you'll come with several other surprises of your own down the road which will be new and scary challenges as well. I have heard some rumors that kids come with their own agendas and challenges, and that if it's not one thing it will be another. 

Hopefully we'll have some answers in the next couple of weeks, but for now we're pretty sure that everything will check out just fine. Your dad is looking into Red Sox onesies and "I Love Chemistry" onesies, so you'll be completely set in the wardrobe department.

Love you Little Man.

4 Months!

Well well well…look who decided to show up this month! We were wondering if you were going to make a grand showing of your existence anytime soon, and boy did you. In fact, you made your big debut quite literally overnight. Sunday night, January 6, 2013 to be exact.

 

I was fitting into my clothes quite comfortably all the way through our Christmas vacation in Idaho. People often remarked on how I just didn’t look pregnant at all. Then suddenly on Monday morning I put on my work pants and POW, they only buttoned if I was standing up, which meant I had to go that entire day at work sitting at my desk with my pants undone. On Tuesday I couldn’t even pretend to zip up my skirt, so on Tuesday night we made an emergency trip to Target for some cheap maternity clothes to tide me over until I hit that “definitely, definitely pregnant” phase here in the next few weeks. Your dad and I speculate that the cause of your sudden growth spurt is that you went a little overboard like we all do and put on a bunch of holiday weight. That explanation makes perfect sense, considering you are half Allen, half McNally.

 

Your dad is thrilled to see my expanding belly and can’t seem to take his eyes off me/you. It creeps me out a little, actually. Every time I walk into the room your dad does this full body scan thing with his eyes, and then holds out his hands which I have come to learn means “let me feel your stomach.” It’s weird, but also kind of cute. I’m also relatively certain that this novelty will wear off after you, and that your siblings won’t be subject to the same level of pre-natal groping. Way to take one for the team.  

 

As far as pregnancy symptoms go, I think you have some things backwards and I would like to address them now. The way it was supposed to work was that during the first trimester and first trimester only, I should have felt fatigued and lost my appetite. Then, in the second trimester I should have gotten a burst of energy and regained my voracious appetite. But you apparently dance to the beat of a different drum. I felt almost no symptoms whatsoever during the first 13 weeks of pregnancy, but during this 16^th week I’ve felt extremely tired, prone to dizziness, and absolutely disinterested in most foods—especially the foods that are good for us. As a result, we go to bed at about 9:00 PM each night, and eat far more crackers and pasta than we are supposed to. How about you work on reversing some of those things, and see what you can do about giving your mother that pregnant glow that I’m pretty sure I’m entitled to in exchange for me lending you my entire body for nine months.

 

I did fill you in on a little secret yesterday in the car though. Yesterday we had to take a two hour road trip for a work meeting in western Massachusetts. On the way home I stopped by McDonalds and fed us some much desired chicken nuggets and fries. I have tried to avoid that kind of food for the most part during this pregnancy, and have committed to limit fast food intake in my own children. But I told you yesterday that you can always rest assured that when you are on the road with your mom, you can expect McDonalds. It will be our little tradition…as long as you are being good.

 

And yes, I was actually telling you these things out loud in the car. I read that you have grown your ears this week and can start to hear my voice, and some sources even encourage me to speak out loud to you as often as possible. I felt weird doing it though, so I don’t think our special womb conversations will be a regular thing. I have no doubt in my mind whatsoever though that you will hear a lot of my voice in the next few months (and for the rest of your life). So I won’t spend too much time worrying that you won’t recognize me or my voice on your birthday.

Also, your dad believes I am growing a hairy baby, and I very much look forward to when you’re born and we can both prove him wrong. Lately I’ve been suffering from a case of the dramatic hiccups. I hiccup only about 4 or 5 times a day, but when I do the whole world can hear. I have also suffered from bouts of heartburn. Your dad read somewhere that these are symptoms of increased progesterone, high levels of which are indicative of significant fetal hair growth. While I like to imagine you growing a beautiful head of dark hair and long eyelashes, your dad envisions you resembling something similar to a fuzzy bear cub.

I am not growing a hairy baby. Right?

 

And that’s your four month update! I still can’t feel you move around in there, even though allegedly I should be able to. I’ve been warned that with me being a first time mom I probably won’t recognize your movements for another few weeks. It kind of bugs me that apparently I can technically feel you, but I just can’t differentiate you from other bodily sensations. I can’t wait for that day though, so hurry up.

Christmas 2012

This last week your dad and I celebrated Christmas back home in Idaho—the last Christmas we’ll ever have as a childless couple. While it was a wonderful Christmas (as all of them are), we confessed to each other that it felt right that it was our last without you. You probably won’t understand this concept for many, many more years, but after a while Christmas becomes a little less exciting the older you get. I think that many of us lose that sense of holiday magic once we grow up, and can’t get it back until we have kids of our own. But it was nice to have one more holiday with family, unencumbered by parenthood and other obligations. Next Christmas you’ll be about six months old, and while you won’t have any idea what Christmas is, you’ll be high maintenance nonetheless I’m sure.

That reminds me: when you do arrive and visit Nana and Grandpa Paul’s house, whatever you do, don’t fiddle with four little holes in their couch cushion. This last week Uncle Daniel’s dog bit into the cushion and left four tooth marks in the leather. Grandpa Paul said it wasn’t the tooth marks he was worried about, but rather your little fingers prying around in them and making them bigger. I resented that you were getting in trouble already at such a young age and for a crime you did not yet commit. So I think it would be best if you steered clear of the couch just to spite Grandpa and to prove to him that I am the most amazing mother with the most amazingly well behaved child ever.

Otherwise, our Christmas was spent with Grandpa Scott, Great Grams, some of Dad’s extended family, my family, and some of my extended family. I was reminded how many people you have to get to know in the next year—all of whom are very eager to meet you.

We still don’t know what the plan is for your dad’s doctorate and where we’ll be in the next several months. I’m not allowing myself to start freaking out about our lack of answers until at least February, and at that point I’ve begun to brace your father for an all-out panic attack.

You better hope that at some point we move closer to home, because after our adventure flying back to Boston I have pretty much sworn off holiday travel forever. Your dad and I were scheduled to take a midnight flight from Salt Lake to Boston on Tuesday. We arrived at the airport only to discover that our plane was delayed an hour due to mechanical problems. While waiting for the plane to arrive, I whispered to your dad that I had a bad feeling about this flight and that it might be canceled.

Eventually we were able to board, but we sat parked on the tarmac for a half hour and waited in line for the plane to get de-iced. After waiting another half hour while the plane actually got de-iced, the pilot came on and announced that the flight would have to be canceled since his co-pilot had apparently maxed out on his hours as per federal regulations. I turned to your dad and just said “told you so.” So we de-boarded the plane around 2:00 AM, stood in line to get our luggage, stood in line to book a flight for 9:50 AM the following day (or, rather, that same day) and took a shuttle to a hotel at 3:00 AM for about three hours of “sleep” until we had to wake back up and haul our butts back to the airport to do it all over again. Once we finally arrived at Logan the next night, we had to wait to de-board the plane for a military processional, and then we had to wait for about another hour to get our luggage due to the same processional.

All told it was about 36 hours of pure, unadulterated holiday travel and I am BURNT OUT. It could have been worse, I suppose. There were several families on our plane with small children. I imagined how hard it would have been if you were here and we had to go through all the pain and torture of getting you on and off an airplane, to a hotel, and back on and then off an airplane again all in one night. Even though I technically had a child with me, you were pretty manageable and it was me who was most prone to throwing a child-like fit.