Rainy Mornings

The sound of the rain is running down the gutters in rhythmic metallic plinks. It’s soothing and I realize I’ve heard it all night through the haze of my sleep. Trees outside my window are changing; brilliant colors of fiery oranges, blazing reds and yellows. A few stubborn leaves hang on to life, still a lush green.

The parking lot is covered with fallen leaves, also multicolored. They are flattened to the pavement by the rain. I sit here in the quiet – the only one awake in my home aside from my feline companions.

A soft, gentle kick from within reminds me that no, I am not the only one awake. Someone else in my household is stirring. The daughter that sleeps within my womb; my precious baby girl is rising and ready for her day. Still so small, yet kicking and nudging with surprising force.

I smile as I feel her turn and shift. I picture her sleeping soundly, sucking her thumb and even dreaming. Of what? Of me, of her daddy? I like to think that maybe she is. I think about how she will soon accompany me in the outside world on rainy mornings like this; in my arms sleeping, or attached to my breast as she has her breakfast. I will sing songs to her and stroke her sweet little face.

It is just the two of us awake on this cool, wet fall morning. Moments like this are moments I cherish, as soon I will have to share her with the rest of the world.

But not yet.

Not just yet.

The Last Halloween

I am coming to the realization as each holiday passes that it is my last – ever, in my entire life – where it will be just me and my husband. When I mention that to my husband, he smiles and pats my stomach and says it’s already the three of us. True, but I think you get my drift. This time next Halloween, Nellie will be nine months old. She will be nine months! How insane is that?! We will pick out a costume for her, probably take her to get pictures.. She will be sitting up, probably starting to eat solid foods – she could even be walking. It’s true, I have a friend whose baby started walking before she was a year old.
I was laying on the couch last night watching Supernatural (which is made of AWESOME, by the way if you haven’t seen it yet) and feeling Nellie kick when I realized how strange it’s going to be to sit, or lay and not get kicked from the inside. I’ve grown so accustomed to the little bumps, jerks and earthquakes from within my belly it’s hard to picture what my life was like before them. I’ve been feeling her move every single day for about 5 weeks now and she will continue to do so for (hopefully) at least 10 more weeks. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely cannot wait to meet my little girl but it’s going to take some getting used to not having her in my belly.
Pregnancy is something that has just come very naturally to me. Perhaps I’ve just been blessed with an easy pregnancy, but I’ve never felt better than right now, at 7 months pregnant. When I walk down the street and catch a glimpse of my shadow, I smile at the round silhouette lying on the street. If I am passing a mirror and happen to see my reflection, I stop and admire it for a moment with a smile on my face; my hands tracing the curve of my belly. I find myself resting my hands on my stomach all the time – in line at the grocery store, walking down the hall, even just sitting at my desk.. My hands are on my belly.
We’ll be attending a Halloween party – in November. Crazy, I know. But my brother-in-law is the one who hosts it every year, and his October is booked solid as he co-produces and co-directs the Ruby Falls Haunted Cavern each season. He has since 2006. We’ll be having the Halloween party the 2nd weekend in November. I always get funny looks when I tell people I’m going to a Halloween party in November, but whatever. I’ve got a pretty fun costume planned for this year; you’ll just have to wait to see pictures. Until then, you can tide yourself over with my favorite costume that I’ve ever had. From our 2007 Halloween party, I give you…

Lois the Crazy Cat Lady.

Happy Halloween, everybody!!!!!

A Vote For Me is A Vote For…. Well, Me.

Hi there, O Reader of Mine! I’m glad you stopped by this blog.

I’m trying to claw my way up through the ranks at TopBabyBlogs.com …. But I need your help! It’s easy. All you have to do is click on this banner right here:

Help Our Rank & Visit Top Baby Blogs, Baby Blog Directory!

Easy as pie! Read a few of my posts, and if like what you read PLEASE cast a vote for me. I’m trying to get my name out there as a blogger and can’t do it without you. Also, if you are so inclined, become an avid, loyal reader of my blog! I love new readers, and LOVE feedback. Thanks so much for your time!

Adventures in Glucose Testing

Yesterday was THE DREADED GLUCOSE TEST.

Except, it wasn’t bad. Not even a little bit. Let me ‘splain.

….No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

I got there and waited for a while for my appointment. Luckily, at my doctor’s office I almost never have to wait more than 10 minutes to go back. They called me, I peed in the cup and they took my weight. I’ve gained 22 pounds so far which I’m not particularly thrilled about, but I suppose it’s not that terrible, either. Let’s just say that I’m not going to get through this pregnancy without hitting 200 pounds.

My blood pressure is good; 125/71. I waited a few minutes in the room for the doctor, and when she came back she looked over my chart and said everything looked good, including my glucose. There was a little confusion as I hadn’t taken my glucose test yet. We discovered that the nurse had inserted the wrong thing into my chart. Awesome! It happens, I guess. No harm, no foul.

She listed to baby girl’s heartbeat, which was strong, loud, and fast. Music to mommy’s ears. She measured my belly, rapped on it a few times and then went off to retrieve my delicious glucose beverage. She asked me which flavor I preferred and I said whichever one was the least heinous. I actually used the word ‘heinous’. She shrugged and looked at me and I said, “Just give me the fruit punch.”

She came back with the bottle and I eyed it. The enemy I’d been dreading for weeks. I opened the top, and took my first sip.
It tasted like Kool Aid. Nowhere near the disgusting, sugary concoction I was anticipating. I said, “Oh. That’s not bad at all.” and my doctor agreed. She told me I had 5 minutes to drink it and started looking at her watch. I downed the entire thing in less than a minute and a half, and chalked it up to all the drinking I did in my younger years. Thanks, tequila shots!

After that, I got to get a Rhogam shot. Nurse Karen prepared my Rhogam shot and told me that it was to be given in my left hip. By left hip, she meant my ass. She told me the needle was very small and wouldn’t hurt much, but that the medicine would sting. As she came toward my butt with the needle I braced myself, wincing in anticipation of the pain. I felt a tiny sting as the needle pushed through my skin, and then a slight pinching sensation as she injected the medicine. I stood tense, waiting for a burning searing pain that never came. Before I knew it she was putting a Band-Aid over my tushy. I looked over my shoulder as I pulled up my pants.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“That’s it.” she confirmed.

Oh. Well then.

Then I got to wait for an hour. I sat in the waiting room. I wandered around the gift shop. I longingly eyed the Hershey’s bars in the gift shop. I passed by the snack bar and sighed at the sight of all the candy that was forbidden for me to eat. I eventually made my way back into the office and back into the lab. The woman who was there wasn’t my normal phlebotomist, but someone I didn’t recognize. I eyed her warily and told her I was there to get my blood drawn for my glucose. She told me to take a seat without looking at me and continued with her paperwork. After a few silent minutes she finally turned around to acknowledge me. She pulled out empty vials, told me to roll up my sleeves and to make a fist. She tightened the rubber-band thing around my arm and I looked the other way. I don’t have a problem getting my blood drawn; I just don’t like to look.

Now, here is where I get a little ranty. I now realize that the woman who normally takes my blood (whose name eludes me at the time, so I will call her Nurse Made of Awesome) is actually an angel sent from heaven. She is perfect and can do no wrong. The fill-in nurse, as she explained to me she was, is the opposite. Lucky me, I happened to book my doctor’s appointment on the day that NURSE STABBINGTON was on duty. Awesome.

So, Nurse Stabbington takes out the needle and inserts it into my arm. For the first time ever, I flinched and thought, OUCH. A few moments later, I felt more tugging, pulling, AND PAIN. NEVER in my two years of visiting this doctor’s office has getting blood drawn caused me PHYSICAL PAIN. Nurse Stabbington sighed, and started asking me questions about my pregnancy. I sat and answered her politely, gritting my teeth and beginning to sweat a little. What the hell was she doing in there, DIGGING FOR GOLD? BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE GOLD IN MY VEINS. I HAVE BLOOD IN MY VEINS. PLEASE TAKE MY BLOOD, AND GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ARM.
She begins complaining about my vein.
“Your vein is being very stubborn.”
Now, what I wanted to say was, “BITCH, THE PROBLEM AIN’T MY VEIN, IT’S THAT DAMN JACKHAMMER YOU HAVE IN MY ARM AND THE FACT THAT YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY TAKING OUT YOUR FRUSTRATIONS WITH YOUR LIFE ON ME.”
What I said was, “Ha ha ha.”
She continued to search in vain (HA HA. GET IT? IN VAIN.), and poke and prod. I must have made some kind of wincing motion or noise because she halfheartedly asked, “You ok?”
*DIGDIGDIGSTAB*
“Fine,” I said while screaming silently in my head.
FINALLY, she was able to get to my damn vein and began collecting my blood. She then started lamenting on how difficult my vein was, and how every time she pushed the needle in, it moved away. I wanted to yell at her that Nurse Made of Awesome NEVER had a problem finding my damn vein and that maybe she should go back to school, but I sat quietly and patiently, waiting for her to take her torture device out of my arm.

I said my goodbyes to Nurse Stabbington and silently wished for her to develop some form of explosive diarrhea, or some other uncomfortable yet non life-threatening ailment.

My arm is STILL STORE.

So that was my adventure during my appointment. The only bad part was the blood draw. I won’t know for a few days if I passed or flunked my glucose test, but I am hoping I pass. My next appointment is in two weeks… We’ve now graduated to every other week doctor’s appointments. It’s getting closer…. So much closer, it’s crazy! Keep your fingers crossed for me that I won’t ever have to encounter Nurse Stabbington again, okay?

Thanks.

Wordless Wednesday

Prayers and PT, Please

Guys, a friend of mine and her family need bigtime prayers and PT.

Michelle, who is a week farther along in her pregnancy than I am, is in the hospital right now and is having to deliver her baby boy Liam due to complications. She’s almost 30 weeks pregnant. I know that her little man is a fighter and will be OK, but I’m still very scared for them. DH and I are going to be seeing them in the hospital as soon as I can get away from work, which hopefully will be soon.

You can wish her well at her blog:

http://friendly-like.blogspot.com

Michelle, I hope you don’t mind the request for good thoughts and the link to your blog. I know you won’t read this for a while anyway.

EDIT: I just got a text from the daddy. They are taking Liam tonight. We went by to see them in the hospital a few hours ago and they said they were shooting to make it ’till Thursday to give the steroids they’d given Michelle a few days to help mature Liam’s lungs, but it’s looking like the little guy has to be born tonight. They had mentioned something about her having HELLP syndrome, I’m not sure if it was confirmed that she does have it but I’m guessing she does if they take him tonight. Say a prayer for little Liam tonight, if praying happens to be your thing. If it’s not, send some positive vibes and good thoughts out into the universe for this family.

The Curious Case of My Vanishing VaJayJay

So…… This may be a little much, but honestly when I became pregnant, after all the TTC lingo I exchanged with ladies via message boards, TMI doesn’t really exist for me anymore so here it goes.

I can no longer see my crotch.

It’s true. I don’t remember what inspired me even thinking to look, but after much glancing, twisting and turning and other various methods of contortion that are usually best left to small acrobatic circus performers, I confirmed that I can no longer see my crotch. It’s gone. Vanished. Out of my sight.

I tried to pull my belly out of the way, except the thing is – my belly won’t, like, move anymore. It just… Is there. All the time. I tried bending over. That just made my vagina disappear further from my view. I lifted my leg and propped it up on the toilet, almost toppling over like a Weeble in the process. I peeked, peered, and gazed. My husband caught me doing this; looking like I was attempting some strange and potentially dangerous new Yoga pose and asked me what the hell I was doing. I gave him a look like, “duh” and told him I was trying to see my crotch, to which he responded by howling in laughter and walking away.

The only way I can see my ladybits anymore is to look with a mirror. Even that is difficult, but look with a mirror I did – if only to reassure myself that my vagina is, in fact, still there and fully in tact. I ended up getting a glimpse of it. Yep, there’s my vagina. Still there, still looking the same as it ever did (albeit slightly more… Um… Puffy? WTF, PREGNANCY?). Pregnancy is such a curious thing. Never in a million years did I think that something as simple as being able to see my own vagina would be something that was impossible without being an Olympic gymnast. Something that I’ve seen every single day of my life is now gone; hidden by the growing mound that is my stomach.

I think that the book Belly Laughs by Jenny McCarthy had mentioned something about her vagina getting blue and engorged, and when I read it in my first trimester I laughed heartily and thought to myself that was a bunch of bullshit. Apparently it is NOT bullshit, and vaginas do in fact get engorged during gestation. Though mine isn’t blue. It’s still a normal color.

Now that you know entirely too much about my crotch region, carry on and have a very pleasant Tuesday. And never take the fact that you can see your vagina for granted.

My Husband = Made of Awesome

My husband always knows how to make me laugh and feel better.

I was stressing because at work, I had about 4 different people needing me at once while I was trying to help out customers. It was like,

“Natalie, could you..”
“Natalie, how do I…”
“Natalie, why is this..”

I handled it well, I am proud to say. I didn’t lose it, or go into a pregnant fit of rage/tears. I took a deep breath and dealt with it like a big girl. I was even very patient.
I was telling all of this to my husband, and his response was:

“You should have gotten up and started waddling around a quacking like a duck. No one would have been able to tell where you were.”

I immediately bursted out laughing and smiled… My husband is amazing. It’s okay to be jealous, ladies. 😉

28 Weeks – Baby Chinese Cabbage


By this week, your baby weighs two and a quarter pounds (like a Chinese cabbage) and measures 14.8 inches from the top of her head to her heels. She can blink her eyes, which now sport lashes. With her eyesight developing, she may be able to see the light that filters in through your womb. She’s also developing billions of neurons in her brain and adding more body fat in preparation for life in the outside world.

–From BabyCenter.com

In Other News: I’m A Big, Fat Dork

This weekend we went to an event at the local zoo called Boo in the Zoo. It’s basically a Trick or Treating night for families to bring their kids all dressed up and they check out the animals and get candy in the process. Two of our best friends (who are married to each other) work at the zoo, so we also took the opportunity to follow them around and harass them. One of them was dressed in a Shrek costume, so we didn’t hesitate to give him a hard time about that.

Anyway, I’m huge and fat and am having a hard time fitting into even my maternity clothes now. My shirts are struggling to cover my growing bump, so to my delight my husband threw me one of his t-shirts and said I could have it for the duration of the pregnancy.

I don’t know if you knew this, but I’m a gigantic geek. Up until recently I gamed (like, Dungeons and Dragons gaming), I read a few comics, I am a MOVIE FIEND and I also spaz out at certain TV shows. My biggest fandoms are for Supernatural, Six Feet Under, and Firefly. The t-shirt DH threw me has to do with the last show I mentioned. Check it out:

Baby Browncoat on Board

I’m a geek, and I’m proud of it.