I Need a Shot to Handle his Shots

My little boy had his six month check up today. I usually love to bring him to the pediatrician's office because I get to really show him off. This is the only place where they ask a million questions about my son and I get to gladly tell them all they want to know. "Does he roll from front to back? Can he sit up by himself? Does he giggle and coo? Is he on solids?" I love how in-depth the doctors and nurses are and how much they want to know about B-Man.

Brady is such a ham when it comes to pretty girls. He really can't help himself from showing off his two pearly white bottom teeth. The nurses and female staff get a dose of dimples whenever he makes eye contact. It's the male doctors that make him nervous. That is probably a result of being around me and my non-manly voice 24/7. I actually have finally moved out of his room at night, so I'm no longer with him 24 hours a day. That's a relief.

So the doctor visit went pretty well. He's 30 inches long, 20 pounds, 13 ounces. His head measures 18 inches around. Overall, for a six-month-old baby he's large and in charge. There were no major concerns. Brady's biggest concern was the five shots he had to have today. He received all of his required vaccinations and the flu shot. We will be traveling with him in a plane next month, so I figured it was better safe than sorry. He will get his follow up shot the day before we fly away.

Shots-time is the most difficult for me, and I am pretty sure most moms would agree. I find myself feeling so awkward. I don't know where to put myself. I want him to know I am there for him, but at the same time, I don't want him to think that I am hurting him. I find myself petting his belly and "oohing" and "aahing" at him to distract him. The first vaccination he received was a sugary-sweet drink. I'm not really even sure what it protects him against, but he's had it since his very first check up. He seemed relieved while he drank the liquid. The relief was short-lived. Once the nurse inserts the first shot and quickly moves on to her second and third, he's a ball of tears. I feel so bad for him. Today I actually witnessed some blood spill out from one of his shots. I almost cried. My poor baby. I always have to remind myself that it's better that he feels a moment of pain than a lengthy amount of time being sick.

Luckily, I thought ahead this time and dressed him before his shots. The last time we were at the office for his four month check up, I dressed him afterward. He was so upset, I couldn't get him to stop screaming, so he remained upset the rest of the afternoon. When the nurse was finally finished with his vaccinations, I scooped up my little man and held him close. I am so relieved he stopped crying shortly thereafter. He's napping now. He's probably exhausted from the amount of stress he was in this afternoon. My big, sweet baby boy.

How Diabetes Affects Me

I do not have diabetes. I do not know the sting of a needle to keep my blood sugars level. I do not know the stigma of growing up learning how to become a woman and how to deal with a difficult disease. Diabetes does not have a direct impact on my life.


Although diabetes has no control over me, physically, I do feel the tugs at my heart emotionally. My sister has T1D. She has had this disease since she was fourteen years old. I was about to graduate high school when she found out. I remember we used to go school shopping for clothes and the time she tried on a size zero pair of shorts and even those were too big for her. I felt, that at the time, I was a pretty fit person and my clothing was comfortable at a size four. To see my sister waste away with no real cause was really troublesome. She used to carry around a jug of water with her everywhere she went. She was always thirsty, still eating, and getting skinnier by the week.


I was partly relieved when my parents found out she was diabetic. Some might think that as a sibling I might have been jealous of her small size... as teenage girls do tend to compare their bodies... but I wasn't. I truly worried she was getting too thin, too fast, and obviously still eating regularly. It was a relief to know that she wasn't going to die by starvation and that T1D could be dealt with.


It took my sister a while to get used to the medications. The levels were always off. Her meters wouldn't always be correct. She would have some emotional difficulties, as a young teenager, that would throw her levels out of whack. Life is tremendously challenging for any adolescent. Add in the fact that if she doesn't get her blood levels under control, she could go into a coma or die. That must've been a very frightening thought.


I have to admit I don't know as much about T1D as I should. I have just recently learned how to really communicate with my sister. Eleven years later, after her initial diagnosis, and we can finally find a reason to relate. She doesn't seem to see me as the "unaffected one who doesn't understand" anymore. I'm learning to realize that while she may put off the sense that she's got diabetes under control, that she really does need support. She needs to know I worry about her. I want to know how her doctor appointments go and if things are improving. I want to know more about T1D. I feel, as her sister, I do owe that to her.


I strive to continue in my journey to show my sister my support and love for her. I don't want to always talk about her disease because that is not all she is. She is a loving, sweet, thoughtful, beautiful person inside and out. I would rather talk about those things, but sometimes we do need to speak of the major part of her life, T1D. It is no longer a skeleton in our closet. It's a part of both of our lives because diabetes does affect me.

http://www.fightingtheunseen.com
http://tudiabetes.com

Feeling the Empty-Nest Inside

This weekend was a little sad for me. Kyle and I had been debating on moving Brady to his own crib in his bedroom for a while now. We could tell he was getting a bit cramped in the bassinet and needed to have space to move about at night. His every stir woke me, and I'm fairly certain that my rumblings in the night woke him, as well. He's officially been sleeping in his room for a little over a week. I knew I had to move him, even though it really pained me. He slept so good in his bassinet by my side. My baby is graduating and officially moved out of his newborn bed.

You would think I should be excited about this important milestone. This means more sleep in my own quiet room and no more midnight feedings. Even my sister-in-law with twins, who are a month younger than Brady, have moved into their own room. I guess I am still clinging to the feeling of being needed. If my first son doesn't need me in the middle of the night, what do I do? I suppose I could just sleep.

I started to notice that he was waking again in the middle of the night for comfort, or just from confusion. From the beginning, we used his crib as his "naptime" bed, and the bassinet was his nighttime bed. I think he thinks every hour or so he should get up, so I'm there with his pacifier to soothe him back to sleep right away. I think that maybe the transition to a full night in his nap-bed will take a bit of adjustment. Or, maybe I'm the one who really needs to adjust to this situation.

So, in accordance to the official move to his own bedroom, I undressed his bassinet and put it in the garage for storage. I bundled up his tiny little mattress and tied it in a garbage bag. I also moved out his newborn swing and packed away the clothing that no longer fits him. I just can't seem to get over the fact that there are outfits that he never really even got to wear. I think he skipped the 3/6 month size altogether.

Kyle and I decided that our ever-maturing baby boy might need to start on having some solids. I consulted with fellow mommy friends and the consensus seems to be that we can start trying rice cereal slowly about this age. Brady is seventeen weeks old now and a "supported sitter". He receives food from a spoon and actually swallows most of it.

The only thing that stinks about our gradual transition to solids is the fact that he doesn't "stink" as much. I think that iron-fortified cereal might be stopping-up my boy. I've heard recommendations that I try to feed him pear juice. I also read that we should make his food soupier, and to try to feed him after a full formula feeding. The full-feeding makes no sense to me because when he's full, why would he want to eat anymore food? Now, I'm starting to read more things that say that he should be at least six months old. Regardless of the statistics, my gut says he's ready to try some solids. I'm sure that at our next pediatrician check-up, later this week, the doctor will state otherwise. I read this quote from a blog online that said, "I'd heard a rumor that the age to start solids has changed AGAIN - can anyone confirm? It was 4 months in 2001 and 6 months in 2004. I'd heard that it was now 4.5 months - is that true or just maliciousness of health care professionals trying to keep us in doubt about our ability to parent (OK a bit tongue in cheek there - but it is CRAZY :eek: - the babies haven't changed, just the advice)". I think I might be able to agree with that statement. Either way, we gave Brady a bit of a break on his solids and he has been "successful" once again.

There have been quite a few changes in our household. Little Brady probably has no idea what is really going on around him. He doesn't cry as much when he's hungry. I believe he knows we will feed him and he is not as stressed about eating as he used to be. He actually will cuddle when Kyle holds him now. He's learned to grip us when we carry him. Our little man has found his squeaky voice and practices gleefully screaming and playing with consonants. He seems to adjust with schedule changes pretty well and is more mature when it comes to family outings. I feel that he trusts we will take care of him, and we, as parents, are learning to trust our abilities. While I am glad that Brady is a healthy boy, I can see how parents get an "empty-nest syndrome" when their kids go off to college. I know I can't really compare moving from his bassinet to his crib to a teenager going off to college, but a move across the house will undoubtedly take a bit of adjustment--for me.

Learning to Live by the Boy Scouts Motto

Whoever said that a new baby will bring nothing but pure joy and sunshine to a relationship was obviously delusional. I'm not saying that I don't love my child or that I don't enjoy the new life in my family; I do. I cherish the ground he has yet to learn to walk on. What I'm saying is that no one ever really explains how trying a new baby can be on a young couple... especially with the very first child.

Before the birth of our first child we were both number one in each other’s eyes. Now that number one is the bouncing baby boy that we prayed so hard to have. This is not a complaint, I'm merely just stating that there is a huge adjustment. First, being the mom, I sacrificed so much sleep. I've learned to function on just three hours of consecutive sleep in the very beginning. Luckily, that short-stint of sleeplessness only lasted about three months. Now, I'm very spoiled and can sleep for seven to eight hours like every other normal human being on the earth. I can't very well say that Dad has felt the sacrifice as I had in the sleep department, but he also went to work every day while I stayed home. It's something we had to do just to make sure money kept coming into our home.

Speaking of money, no one tells you that it gets so tight. Well, it's said in passing, but I never really grasped how things would be when we went from two decent incomes to just one. We did not want to put a newborn in daycare and worked hard to find a way for me to stay at home with Brady. Groceries are still paid for and the bills are on time, but there is not much for discretionary spending that we had become accustomed to having our first five years of marriage. We have been perpetually cash-strapped for three months straight now. We did save some money for any unforeseen hard times we might come upon before Brady was born... and we are officially starting to tap into that savings. I guess it's good we were prepared. It's also such a good thing that I was offered a great job to work part time and bring the baby to work with me. That should help to really supplement our income. I'm truly grateful for that opportunity and look forward to starting that job soon.

The new definitions of roles are very fuzzy in the very beginning. Not only was I sleep deprived, I felt a little out of sorts. I had no real idea what my role should be. I felt guilty using the TV and having the computer on at the same time. It's a bit irrational, but I felt that if I used too much electricity then I was not helping out our household. I felt like I had to do the dishes, the laundry, and clean, then cook dinner, take care of the dog. All of this on top of being on Brady's beck-and-call. It was a very awkward time for me. I had been working since I was fifteen. It took a little while, but now I'm pretty used to being at home and realize my main job is to be here for my growing baby. All the rest of the chores come secondary. Going back to work part time will really help me to feel like I'm contributing to our household. Being a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom) has its glamorous connotations, but without friends who are in the same situation, it can seem very lonely. I know, cry a river.

One of the changing parts of having a new family is the fact that every morning the baby gets a warm smile and a kiss first. Kyle says hello to Brady when he gets home from a long day of work before he acknowledges me. Sometimes I think even our dog, Monkey, gets a greeting first. I know that I am not the best at welcoming Kyle home, especially if I just got the baby down for a nap. Our son has swiftly become the center of our world. I know that Monkey feels the pinch in his attention-getting as well. No finger pointing here, just realizing that our child brings so much joy, we will do anything to receive a toothless grin.

Sometimes it feels like having a new baby creates difficulties in doing things we want to do. It's not that we necessarily miss going out on the town and partying like it's 1999, but just everyday things can turn into major events. We really have to plan to do anything with a baby. He needs a nap every two hours, at least, and it's difficult to plan around those naps right now. Anyone who claims that life with a new baby is easy, and that they have to follow the parents' schedules, must not have had a baby in the past year, or are superhuman. I try my best to do things with Brady and try to be as prepared as possible. I've come to realize when push comes to shove, a tired baby needs a nap when he needs it, and there is nothing you can do to console him in public. I guess that just comes with parenthood.

I felt compelled to acknowledge the changes in our lives because I never really seem to hear from fellow moms about how the family dynamics evolve after a baby is born. Mom and Dad each need to be acknowledged for more than just being the breadwinner and the homemaker. I think it's important to remember that even though we love our babies, sometimes to a point of pure narcissism, we need to remember that it took two people to make the new family. As my sister quoted to me, "In love, both parties need to give at least 70% of themselves. If both are giving 70%, both are putting the other first, and both are getting their fair share of 100% attention". All we can do is try to do better every day. Babies truly bring bliss and happiness to a home. Everything is new and fascinating with a newborn. Sometimes we just need a knock on the head to remember that a baby can adjust to different environments with practice. Life as we knew it doesn't have to end, just move forward. I guess a little more planning ahead really never hurt anyone anyway.

"Be prepared for life - to live happily and without regret, knowing that you have done your best. That's what the Scout motto means."

The Fit's Gonna Hit the Shan

Tiny's hair is finally starting to grow back in. He had a full head of hair when he was born (the heartburn during pregnancy paid off), but it all fell out after just a couple of weeks. It's still got the charm of "old man" hair in the back and reminds me of Frank from the TV show "Everybody Loves Raymond". Part of me wants to just shave off the bottom part of his baldness, but realize I shouldn't. It will grow back... and it is... slowly...

His eyebrows are starting to darken and his eyes are changing, slightly, to a more brown/hazel appearance. Our hopes for a blue-eyed baby boy are fading with each day. Neither Kyle nor I have blue eyes, we just thought maybe our family genes would skip us and give him the dazzling sparklers. Oh well, he's just as cute with darker eyes.

Our little man is teetering on the brink of learning how to laugh. He smiles broadly at us and does a "huh-uh" sound. It's high-pitched and sounds like the start of a giggle. He just hasn't learned the follow-through. I am so excited at the prospect of his learning this wonderful baby skill. Baby giggles are the best! I tickle him at every chance I can, in hopes that he will bust an adorable gut.

He's rocking and trying to roll now, too. We will lay him on his back and he will rock himself from side to side. Tiny's little body will get most of the way rolled over, but his noggin will hold him back. I suppose it is larger than his body right now, so maybe it's heavy. We try to inspire his developing rolling abilities by placing Tiny on his stomach as often as we can. He is not too fond of the tummy time on the floor and would prefer to do that while laying on top of our stomachs and cooing at us. He just turned 14 weeks this past Friday, so I'm not in too much of a hurry to get him rolling. According to a child development book I skim, only half of babies can roll over by four months. So there is no need to push him, I only encourage.

This past week has been a really great week for Brady's maturation. He met his Uncle Jake for the first time and I was able to leave him with Jake for an hour or so at a time. He did not seem to care if neither of his parents were with him. It is refreshing to know that he is a calm baby even for people outside his immediate circle.

Tiny has recently learned to fall asleep on his own for naps in his crib in his own bedroom. We used to rock him to sleep in his bouncer with a pacifier when he needed a nap. Now, I've officially learned to watch him for signs of being tired. His threshold for alertness is 1 & 1/2 to 2 hours max. He is growing more able to stay awake for the longer stretches and sleeping for shorter spans. This is great for me. He officially seems to know that day is for play and night is for sleep. He can sleep eight hours at a time at night. He gets the bulk of his feedings early in the day and will eat every couple of hours before bedtime. I have learned to lay him down while he is still awake and happy. I notice if he blinks really slow and know that's a first signal of tiredness. If he starts to grab at his ears or ball his fists near his eyes, I know it's time to lay him down. He will usually also let out a little whimper. Especially if it coincides with the two-hour mark. He's been a tremendous sleeper for naps. His fussy time is shorter than ever. He fusses for maybe fifteen minutes a day. He's growing up so fast, I can hardly believe it.

Tiny is officially fitting into six month onesies. He seemed to totally skip over the three month sized clothes and he's only three and a half months old. I never really realized how fast babies really grow. There are some outfits that he never even got to wear. He just grew too fast! If our second baby is a boy, then it will be nice to still have new outfits for him. If the second little one is a girl, then the poor thing will be instant "tomboy", with or without her consent.

Our Brady is an active baby boy, bouncing in his chair and able to hold himself up for more time while he sits. His head is significantly less wobbly and he's so alert and communicative. He loves to "oooouuuuu" and "aaaah" and cough to get our attention. He does "super-fast-baby-kicks" with the help of his daddy and I have a feeling that will induce baby giggles in no time. I can not believe he has been a part of our family now for fourteen weeks. Sometimes it feels like he's been here forever and others it feels like just yesterday he was born. I still can't believe that someday in the future Brady will be on TV waving "Hi MOM", and that will be me. It is really quite an honor to have this role.

Rays and Getting more ZZZZs

My teeny tiny little boy is now officially a three month old. He's not as "breakable" to me anymore. I'm a bit more secure in the things I do with him: bath time not as slippery; feedings are quicker; diaper changing is something I can do in my sleep, and have done. He's developing a personality. I can sense when he's starting to get really tired and can seem to get him to sleep before he starts to get upset. He is getting better and better at Tummy Time and doesn't get mad about it after only a minute or two. We have "cuddle time" (to prevent flat head syndrome I've been warned about) and he is starting to be able to hold himself upright on his own more and more. His head is less "Ray Charles" and more steady on his neck. He's growing so fast. He's already moving into size 3 diapers. This means he's over 15 pounds already. It's so strange how we are running out of the size 2 diapers and with only four left, they suddenly seem like Cabbage Patch doll diapers. It seems instantly he's outgrown them.

The past week or so Brady has begun sleeping through the night. I have heard that anything over five hours of sleep at night is considered sleeping through. He slept almost eight hours last night. Of course, I stayed up to watch "The Notebook" on TV for the 80th time in my life. I got five hours of consecutive sleep because of that. Even that amount of sleep feels like an eternity to me! I remember my first couple of nights that he started sleeping through. I would wake up around five or six in the morning and search my nightstand desperately. I wondered if there was an empty bottle and maybe I just don't remember feeding him. Sometimes I would glance over to see if there was a still-full bottle from waking to feed him and falling asleep waiting for him to fully awake. Every time I had a mini panic attack, I realized he didn't wake up during the night, and no, I did not sleep through a hungry cry. A few mid morning freak outs and I was over worrying that he wasn't getting his 3AM feedings. While I am so relieved the "hard part" of sleepless nights is about over, I am a little sad too. My newborn baby is not so new anymore. He's maturing more and more every day. Some days we wake up to see a totally different baby. I swear he changes every night.

This past weekend we took Brady to his first ever MLB game. He got to see the Rays play at the Tropicana Field in St. Petersburg, FL. We were so excited to take him to his first baseball game. I think it was definitely more thrilling to us to take him than it was to him. He was truly mesmerized and enthralled by the domed stadium. The lights were so bright. The cowbells in the audience were so invigorating. The announcers and the music was so much louder than we remembered... or we are now parents and notice those things. I think it is the latter. Our 12 week old boy made it six innings before he was just too upset to handle it anymore. He wailed for just a minute or two during the sixth inning and I got myself some pretty nasty looks from the rows in front of us. Must've been so horrible of me to have my baby there to them. He was there for six innings, people. It's not like I just brought him in and he became devastated instantly. The more I looked around, though, the more I did see lots of little babies. It really is great to be able to take a baby with you to a game. They don't need their own seat until they are two. Seat or no seat, I took a wiped-out Brady to the cafe where they have TVs and a bit less commotion for the poor baby. He swiftly fell asleep in my lap. Luckily, I could see the game and I didn't have to make Kyle and our friend leave the game early. In the end, it was a victory: for the Rays (beat the Marlins 7 to 3) and for our boy. He was such a great baby. He could have been a crying mess the whole time, but he wasn't. I am so glad we are starting him off early. He will be a pro at going to baseball games before he's a year old!

The boy is napping, and that is how I had the time to write. Better go do something else productive while I have the time!!

Bugs & Poo

Well the little one is fast asleep. He ate his usual two ounce snack of formula and had a fresh diaper before I understood what all of his wailing about. He's almost seven weeks old and I'm still learning what he needs. I think I'm getting pretty good at it. It's all a process of elimination.

On the subject of "elimination", you would think that since he cries over just a teeny bit of pee in his diaper that he would have been beyond upset last night. We were watching one of our favorite T.V. shows while Brady was smiling away in his bouncer. That thing is a true godsend (when nothing else can soothe him, that's our go-to). I leaned over to talk to Hubs and noticed a strong, foul odor rising from my tiny child. I looked at him and asked, as if he could reply, "did you poop?" Of course, he just smiled and cooed at me. So I did what any red blooded mom would do: I pulled the frills of the diaper by his leg to peak at the goods. Oh my goodness. Heavens to Betsey (insert any other exclamatory phrases in here). I have never seen so much poo in my life. Well, I have, but from a little human, it was incredible! It was oozing out of his diaper... it was like he had a mini bean bag coming out of his butt... and he was just smiling away, having a grand old time. I have no idea why this amount of poo did not bother him. I immediately pulled him from the bouncer only to find the poo had escaped and gotten on the cloth bouncer. Kyle was put on bouncer duty. Speaking of "duty", it even escaped on to his clothes. So I stripped that little boy and went to cleaning up his handiwork. He must've been proud of himself. That is the only explanation I have as to why he wasn't hysterical at the full diaper. If it wasn't so grotesque, I had even thought of taking a picture for future evidence.

I have been at home now, away from work, since Brady was born. I had no idea how this would be for me. I thought I would be bored. I guess I really just don't have much time to feel that way. Between trying to squeeze in naps when the baby is asleep, to cleaning the house, to the dishes, the laundry, getting dinner set up... all besides what I do for the baby: diapers, diapers, diapers, outfit change, feeding, soothing, etc. I just had always thought that if I stayed at home I would have nothing to do. Boy, was I wrong. I just can't seem to fit enough in my day. And this is all without leaving the house. When Kyle gets home from work, I venture out and "escape" then to Sam's Club and Wally World for groceries. It's not much excitement to shop for groceries, but I get out of the house for a couple of hours. We find ourselves learning to "live poor". Two incomes down to just one is quite the adjustment. We just don't do the things we used to. We don't go out for midweek dinners, I don't eat out for lunch, I don't use much gas in the truck, haven't done much for fun shopping. I've just been learning to figure what we actually need, instead of just what we want. When it comes right down to it, we don't really need much. I actually cleaned out my closet and had five bags of clothes to give away. These are things I have kept over the years that I haven't worn much in a while. That just shows me that I wasted money. Now, my goal is to try to buy traditional clothes, no trends. I will try harder to not buy on a whim.

Speaking of clothes, I am still bummed to find that I am much bigger than I pictured myself. I keep hoping that I will fit in my pre-maternity clothes. They are so small on me. I just can't believe how much I've grown. My hips are wider, my legs seem bigger. I know on the scale I have fifteen to twenty pounds to lose to get to my weight before I got pregnant, but I just don't see myself in the XL sizes I have to try on at the store. It could have been the particular stores I was at, or the brands I was trying, but L and XL have never really been in my clothing collection. Needless to say, I was completely dismayed after a shopping trip. I needed to get some capris and/or shorts to help with the summer heat approaching. Maternity clothes are falling off of me, and I can't fit in my pre-baby clothes. This transition really just sucks. I know that it will take a while to get back to normal and that I shouldn't be so upset. I did lose twenty five pounds since delivery, but 8 1/2 of that was Brady. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not whining, I'm changing things. I drink more water, I eat more vegetables, we are limiting fast food intake. Kyle was even so inspired with how upset I was at my weight that he jumped online to look for a treadmill. God must've been on our side, because immediately upon signing on Craigslist, he found a free treadmill. Kyle emailed the poster and got a quick response. Within two or so hours we had a treadmill in our garage. Thank goodness for an empathetic husband.

Another thing my husband is good for: killing bugs. He's very good at many, many things. Like taking the baby after he's been at work all day so I can have a mini break. He knows when I just need to get out of the house and will insist I go out and get groceries (I know that doesn't sound fun to most, but to a housebound mom, it's wonderful). In summary, my husband is a really great man and he's wonderful in many ways. There's just this bug-killing thing that he does that makes me appreciate him. And I do. Until the other night, I was brushing my teeth and he walks up to me with some news. He makes sure I'm listening and says, "there was a bug on your toothbrush, but don't worry I killed it." Now, do I continue brushing or throw the toothbrush away? This is how I know I've been around boys too long... I brushed anyway and thought to myself that it was extra protein. Does a body good.

Huggies for a Year Program

HUGGIES is giving away 4 one-year supplies of their new Pure and Natural Diapers exclusively to Ellen fans between now and May 29th! The diapers include natural materials like organic cotton, and all you have to do to win is click here and enter! To learn more, please visit www.HuggiesPureAndNatural.com.

In addition, HUGGIES is providing 5 bonus rewards points for Ellen viewers that can be used to win more fun prizes! Simply go to www.enjoytheriderewards.com and enter code BGZQZ-JCXFC-HZPGB.
Here are some more codes that I have found that will give points:

BBWBH-SDHFQ-CJPGB
ZQQGS-FLRLM-XBPGB
WPBXZ - RDDNS - PPPGB
TKHNF-RLPLS-TRPGB
rszng tjnph dhpgb
BBMRG-BFQGS-FBPGB

How to earn more points for Huggies:
http://sweetmama.ca/Huggies

http://community.babycenter.com/photoclubs/a6652875/adventures_in_parenting

http://www.facebook.com/login.php?v=1.0&api_key=25a1e39226da30cbcebb9d6dc591d1e1&next=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.circleofmoms.com%2Fzone.php%3Fentity_id%3D3%26entity_type%3DS&canvas

http://www.cafemom.com/group/102757

https://enjoytheriderewards.com/Default.aspx?page=earn&tab=poll&bhcp=1

https://enjoytheriderewards.com/Default.aspx?page=earn&tab=video&bhcp=1

https://enjoytheriderewards.com/Default.aspx?page=earn&tab=video&bhcp=1



Here is a site I found with lots of links to great coupons for formula and diapers:
http://familyfinances.suite101.com/article.cfm/baby_formula_coupons

I Go (Sleep)Walking After Midnight

I haven't had a full night's rest in months. I think I should be delirious and delusional by now. Brady has only been here for five weeks, so it's not all from midnight feedings. I could hardly sleep at all in my ninth month of pregnancy. That doesn't make my lack of sleep any easier to accept.

Speaking of "midnight feedings"... what a lie. They are more like, 1 A.M., 4 A.M., 6 or 7 A.M. feedings. I think we are slowly teaching him that nighttime is for sleeping and daytime is for play. We try to get him to "talk" to us and to smile and play during the day. He gets tired easily and overstimulated quick. He's young. We just aren't expecting too much from a 5 week old baby. Just taking it one day, er night, at a time.

I try so hard to get him to take his last feeding around eleven o'clock at night so that I MIGHT get to sleep until 2 A.M. It never seems to happen. He will take a half ounce here, two ounces there, until around 10:30 P.M. He seems to know my ploy, and he's not having it. Crafty little bugger.

It's going on a couple of months of little sleep and I am strangely finding it bearable. It's really not as difficult as it initially was the first couple of days. That could also be the missing R.E.M. talking. Brady likes to wake me around four in the morning, screaming like he hasn't eaten in weeks. I groggily get the usual 4 ounce bottle and he guzzles about two ounces. I burp him and offer the last half. Now that he's learned to smile on his own, that's when he shows off his dimples. He pushes out his bottom lip and sometimes even spits raspberries at me to show his lack of interest in more food. I have even resorted to turning on the lights and actually loudly speaking to him, "wake up, Brady". All to no avail. Five weeks of this, and last night I finally had an epiphany. Yup, I'm going to make only two ounces at the four o'clock feeding from now on. He will get more if he wants it. For some reason the lack of sleep makes me a bit slow on the uptake. But I'm getting there.

There are some articles I've read that this gets easier every month. Then I read babies don't sleep through the night until six months, or even up to a year. If I have to go through this for a year, I MIGHT go insane. No promises, I might already be there and in denial.

In the Motha' Hood

Motherhood has blown into my town in a flurried blur. I have officially been a mom for almost a month now. I want to say that things have been a sparkly journey and that things are great and full of flowers and sunshine. I can't really say that is true. There are a lot of things about being a mother that I was not really prepared for. Sure, I've read books and I go online to forums and chat sites. Sure, I pick the brains of my new-mom friends. I just have found that no matter how much I prepared for this role in my life, I was not really quite as informed as I believed.

Nowhere in the books does it say that you may possibly go through four diapers just to get your child into a clean and fresh one. This morning, as an example, I heard a big "explosion" in Brady's diaper. I figured, a good mom would not let that sit on his butt. The acid in the poo can hurt his behind and I didn't want him to get a diaper rash. So I started changing his diaper. (Kyle calls this green/blue/black poo "mortar poop". He claims that this stuff can hold together the Empire State building.) While changing Brady, the air sparked a "fountain experience" and not only was Brady covered in poo (he likes to kick his feet into it), it rained pee all over him. Luckily, I didn't have a new diaper on him yet. He likes to hum a very specific "Poo Song". I know this from getting to know him in the past month. It's very different from his content hum that he likes to do while he sleeps. This "Poo Song" is very deliberate and performed at a lower decibel. Usually while I'm cleaning him up from his first mess, he will begin a soft-serve-effect-poo during his "Poo Song". I waited for this song to be over. And diapered him. Three diapers later, I learned he likes to perform encores. Several minutes in between.

I learned that being a new mom can be so exciting and so new, while at the same time, really hurt. In more ways than one. I learned this when I decided to breastfeed Brady. From the beginning of my pregnancy I was fairly certain that I would not be breastfeeding. I figured since I was a formula-fed baby and so were my siblings, that it was perfectly fine to use a bottle. Even my mom was formula-fed. I liked the idea of getting help to feed the baby as well. I hate to admit this, and have admitted to a very non-judgmental friend, that I found breastfeeding really unappealing. Not to seem barbaric and ignorant, it just kind of weirded me out. I know it's a natural process and it's so good and wonderful. I just didn't think that it was the right thing for me. Until Brady was born. I immediately wanted to try breastfeeding. It just felt so natural. So I did it. And he was latching properly and he seemed content and I felt that I had finally found the perfect role for myself. Mom. I felt so empowered and enabled. It thrilled me that I could provide all things needed for my child.

Well, that feeling was short lived after my stay at the hospital. I was on a lot of prescriptions to help ease my pain. I guess it must've numbed my nipples as well. I had third degree tears in and out of my perineum from Brady's delivery. I couldn't even sit to urinate. I had hemorrhoids the size of a cluster of grapes. I know this for sure, because I witnessed them first-hand when I requested a mirror during the birth. I was physically tortured from top to bottom. Cracking nipples and all, I was determined to keep feeding my baby the natural way.

Then we had a check up at his pediatrician a couple of days later, and she said he lost an alarming amount of weight. We needed to supplement him. I know that most breastfed babies lose some weight (safely up to ten percent of birth weight) first before the milk comes in. He lost more than 8.8 ounces. I was just so hurt. My feelings of inadequacy and the hormonal "dumps" had me feeling especially sad. I was not only physically in a tremendous amount of pain, but I was unable to do what I thought was so magical and important for my child. I feared family and friends would say that my giving up on breastfeeding was just because of laziness or lack of perseverance. I know that if I continued to breastfeed I would have spiraled to a sort of depression. Being unable to sit and also having pieces of flesh sticking to my bra from soreness and tearing was going to make me feel worse emotionally as well. I truly believed that if I hadn't been sore in the perineum and bum that I could have muddled through the initial stages of breastfeeding. The pediatrician even admitted that some women are just unable to provide what is needed for their child. The milk just does not come in as quick as it needs to. So we switched Brady completely to formula. I felt that I did more than I planned to, as long as he got the colostrum, he got a lot from me. After struggling through much guilt and disappointment in myself, I decided to be satisfied with that.

Another part of motherhood that evolved, that I was unprepared for, is how mortal I feel now. I don't believe that I felt immortal before I had Brady... I just feel even more aware of how human I am. I am hyper aware of everyone while driving and with everything that I do now. I noticed that I stopped at a yellow light instead of blowing through it like I used to do. I'm aware that it's not just my life in the truck anymore. I have to protect Brady as well. I think I'm especially paranoid because I never really felt like I was needed before. Now I realize that Brady needs his mom. I also have a nagging fear in the back of my mind that I might drop him. Not sure if this is normal, but I find myself watching my footing at all times. Just to be sure that the pathway is clear. He's just so fragile. While I don't want to wish away his "baby" time, I do look forward to when he can hold up his head and feel a little less "new" in that way. He's just so tiny and defenseless. I have to be extra protective of him.

There are some things I worry about as far as being a mom. I worry that my identity will be lost. That I will be confused in the midst of dirty diapers and bottles. I hope to retain myself in this transition from just wife and daughter to mother. I want to offer Brady all that I have. I hope that he never wants for anything. That we can provide for him. Not only physical things like clothing and food, but love and support. I hope that Brady knows how much we love him. Now I know how my parents felt when they raised my siblings and me. The saying is true that you never know how your parents feel until you are a parent yourself. Now I know that my parents would do anything for me. That they love and worry about me. I know that is a feeling that will never disappear.

My heart has changed. It loves deeper than it ever has. I worry more than I ever have. I try not to let the worry consume me, I just accept it, and have faith that I will be the best I can be for my son. I know that I will not be the most perfect mother in the world, I do know that I will be the best mother that I can be for Brady. I'm okay with not being perfect. I hope to teach my son the same.

It's a FeBreezy Morning

I hate to admit this, but I just Febreezed my sheets this morning before I made the bed. I usually would not do that, but Brady managed to get a little sprinkle of pee on it last night during a foggy-eyed diaper changing. I usually would toss the sheets in the washer, but I had already washed the bedding twice in just the past weekend. I figure a teeny bit of pee never hurt anyone, right? Yup, I'm officially a gross mom who can justify using Febreeze on my sheets.

Brady is here!

A quick note to let you know that our son, Brady, was born on Friday, April 3, 2009 at 10:40AM. He was 8 pounds, 8 ounces and 22 1/4 inches long. I plan to sit down with some details soon!!

Hoppin' Around and Ready for Brady

My latest doctor appointment was just a couple of days ago. I had a late appointment, so I could leave work early and have the rest of the day off afterward. I was so excited to go to this appointment. While technically I was 37 weeks and 6 days, I rounded up to 38 weeks. Doctors said I could start to get "checked" around 38 weeks.

My blood pressure was back to my normal range, which is good. Last week, it was a bit high for me. Not necessarily a scary number, but unusual for my usually low rate. I usually have such low blood pressure they check my pulse to make sure that I am actually breathing. Protein levels were good and I only gained a pound since the last weekly visit. Which is right no cue. I'm still below the "Deuce Plus Club" mark, which completely satisfies me. Doctor says my weight gain was perfectly healthy and consistent.

After the usual checkup of stats, Kyle and I were escorted to the examination room. The nurse asked if I wanted to be checked for dilation. I said, "heck yeah". I undressed waste down. Poor Kyle; one of the gross parts of being this far in the pregnancy, that I have noticed, is that my feet sweat. And they sweat a lot. I was wearing leather flip flops and they must've really kicked in the foot juice. I took those things off, and WHOO! He found some aerosol and sprayed it near my feet to hopefully kick the crap out of the killer stench. I blame it on carrying a boy. Boys stink in general. Of course, he felt it was necessary to pick on me throughout the rest of the visit.

So the doctor comes in and right away I had to apologize for my feet. She claimed to have teenage boys and that the smell of stale foot does not phase her. Okay, well I'm sure that she has seen it all. So I leave it at that. She does notice that my feet are swollen, but doesn't make a note of it because they are not extreme, medically, speaking.

After using her measuring tape and measuring the outside of my belly from pelvis to top of the uterus, she found Brady is measuring exact to the day. So much for my hopes that maybe he was measuring large so they would have to do an ultrasound to see him again. Oh well, I guess I would rather push out an average baby than a large one. Brady's heartbeat was in a great range of 140 beats. He sounded like a healthy boy. She could tell his head was down but pushing in my stomach. He's ready to go!

Next, I asked Kyle to stand by my head and avoid the "business end" while the doctor inserted her gloved hand. I gotta say, that is a feeling I had never felt before. It was rather uncomfortable with a lot of pressure. She noted that I was one centimeter dilated and 50% effaced. It could mean he will be here on time, or sooner, or later... The measurement really didn't do much because it's so early for measuring that there is no telling. I have read a lot of women do their preliminary laboring quietly and don't even notice when they dilate to 3 or 4 cms. The doctor basically stated that if I did not have my baby during the next week, I will be back on the following Friday for another check up.

I asked the doctor what is the latest she would "allow" me to stay pregnant. I really didn't want to hear two weeks past due date. She said only a week. So my absolute latest date to be pregnant would be April 18th. That was a relief. Just one extra week if Brady needed it. I still don't want to be pregnant for three more weeks, but if that's what it will take, I will do it. Better to let him do all his cooking inside than to be fussy outside.

Kyle wanted to know who would deliver our baby. The doctor said they have "on call" days that rotate. She usually does all weekends and if we do go past our due date, we would basically be able to choose which doctor from our practice we would prefer to deliver our baby. That's something to look forward to! If I have to go past my due date, the silver lining is I could choose my favorite doctor. There really only is one doctor I would prefer not to deliver my baby. He has the personality of a dried sponge. I figure that, with my luck, I will get Dr. "stalemate" for the delivery.

So, things are going pretty smooth so far. Kyle and I went to Wally World and Sam's Club to stock up on more baby supplies and easy foods for our house. We "nested" and basically got all things we could see ourselves running out of while the baby is new and we wouldn't have any energy to go out and replace. I feel so relieved and ready for baby now. We even got an 80 count diaper package from Wally World. Our buddy has already given us a package of 40 Huggies diapers made with space for the umbilical cord to heal without irritation. We thought of going Bulk Size from Sam's Club, but many people warned that every baby is different and it was best to not buy bulk until we knew for sure what to get.

We also got some bottles. We were so clueless in BabysRUs, that we thanked the heavenly stars that a saleslady walked by us. I asked how many bottles should we start with and what would work best to store breastmilk if I was so inclined to use a pump. We were looking at Playtex bottles, as recommended by a friend (the nipples worked well for her new baby), and considered getting the drop-ins. I am really concerned with colic, gas and other stomach problems that might upset our baby. The drop-ins are convenient for cleanup and the bags prevent air getting in the belly. The saleslady said to avoid the Playtex pump if I did decide to breastfeed, and to use something else. We will probably rent one from the hospital. She said we could pour the milk directly into the drop-ins and store it in the fridge for up to 48 hours. That's nice information right there. We purchased 6 bottles and found that we had three others at home mailed directly from the manufacturer. I feel confident we have a healthy start now.

I've been pretty crafty and have been requesting samples from manufacturers, as well. I have three cans of Similac formula, and Wally World brand. We have two $5.00 checks toward any purchase of Similac, and also received at $15.00 check toward Nestle Good Start formula. We took the $15 check to BabysRUs and purchased a can that had an additional 30% more in it for $20.62. We only ended up paying $5.62 for it. It feels so good to have additional formula in our cabinets for our boy. My friend has informed me that her pediatrician told her that "nipple confusion" is a myth and that bottle feeding will not "confuse" the baby from breastfeeding. This makes sense to me, because how else would you feed your baby pumped milk? I have also been reading up on breast/formula feeding and have learned that you can switch from formula brand to another fairly simply. As long as they are all milk based, it shouldn't cause any problems. Most formulas are made the same and have the same ingredients. We will stay as consistent as possible, but not freak out about staying devoted to a certain brand. That is reassuring to me as well.

The carseat is now officially installed in the back of our truck. The bassinet will have to move into our bedroom soon. We have most of his clothes and blankets washed and ready-to-use. He has diapers, wipes and Butt Paste (thanks to a great friend). I found a Boppy play mat at Marshall's yesterday for half the price of usual stores and picked it up. He has bottles, and pacifiers specific for 0+Month olds. I think we are ready. Well, probably not that ready, but I feel that he at least has stuff needed for his first few weeks of life. I think we are ready. Now, if only he would get ready. Let's hope he doesn't push me past Easter weekend... I would really like some wine with my Easter ham!

Unscheduled Delivery

Based on emails I receive weekly from a plethora of baby-making sites, Brady is getting locked-and-loaded, and ready to come into the world. I think I am ready for him to arrive. Part of me is ready to see my feet again and to feel like myself again. Another part of me is kind of afraid of what it will be like to not carry a baby. He's been a part of me for so long now. While I have been counting down the whole duration of my pregnancy, I think a part of me was in denial the day would actually come.

Brady is a full-term baby now. He can survive outside the womb anytime he decides to join us in the breathing world. It still baffles me that he went from the size of a needle tip to a full fledged little human. He will go from breathing liquid to inhaling air, only to never be able to breathe liquid again. It amazes me. I know I should know all of this stuff from Biology class, but it never really sinks in until it happens to you. Kinda like how our parents wanted to bestow their hard earned knowledge of life on us, only to have us make our own mistakes and learn on our own. I just won't believe anything until I see it for myself.

People ask me if I'm ready for the baby. Then they mention that I look like I'm going to pop. Yup, I used to say that to pregnant women too. It's really gross to think that people see me and think of me exploding. It really eeks me out. There are some times where I really feel like I will pop, though.. My skin feels so tight and I tell myself that it's okay, I can't possibly grow anymore. Then I do. I am due for a weigh in on Friday. I'm sure if I haven't reached 200 yet, that I will soon. I just really wanted to stay below the Deuce plus club. Oh well. I've only gained about 40 pounds so far. I guess I am okay with that. As long as it brings me a healthy baby, I'll gain three hundred pounds for him if I have to.

I think that we are ready for Brady, by way of actual things. I think. We still don't have any bottles or pacifiers. We don't have a lot of play time things. We don't have a high chair or even a diaper bag. But then I tell myself that a lot of those things won't really be needed for a while. He won't be able to do more than eat, pee, poop and sleep for a while. He won't need toys or a highchair for a little bit. So, I think that since we have clothes for him and a place to lay his sweet head, we have what we basically need. Right? Yeah, I'm probably wrong. I've learned that a lot with this pregnancy. Just when I think I know what I'm talking about, I'm proven just how clueless I am. I don't know why I even try to fake it.

I wonder how I will do when it comes time for delivery. I'm really in denial about how that will happen. I haven't taken any classes. I watch a lot of "Baby Story" on TLC. I basically believe that I just gotta go with the flow on this. I don't know what to expect and I have to remind myself that people have been giving birth for thousands of years. It's a relatively simple procedure for hospitals nowadays. I tell myself that it will all be a blur to me. I will go through the motions and then it will be over and done with. I figure that is why there is really no need to stress about the "what ifs". Although, being a natural born worrywart, I really doubt my abilities to not freak out. I find myself doubting that we even saw all ten fingers and toes on the last ultrasound we had almost 20 weeks ago. I keep worrying that maybe they missed something. But, I know that our ultrasound tech was very good at looking at everything. She counted all chambers of the heart, saw the stomach, bladder, saw no cleft lip.. counted toes, fingers. She was very thorough. I guess I'm just doing the nervous first time mom thing.

One of my oldest friends told me that when I see Brady for the first time it will feel like I've always known what he looked like. She said that when she saw her baby girl for the first time, she felt that she had always known her and always loved her. It's amazing how that works. How can you go from complete strangers to feeling like you've connected your whole life? I guess that is how soul mates work. Our child will be our soul mate.

Poor Brady. If things go as I think they do, he chose to have us as parents. Poor boy, he really has no idea what he got himself into when he picked us. We're gonna be those parents who embarrass the crap out of their kid just cuz it's so darn funny! He will be loved, no doubt, but he sure is in for it!

Pee for Delivery?

Last night, just before bed, I opened up Kyle's book called "What to Expect While Your Wife is Expanding". I read the labor and delivery chapter and saw that the author mentioned urinating as a sign of impending delivery. He said that if a woman pees every hour, she is still not due for about four weeks. If the urination is more frequent, like every half hour, the baby will arrive in about two weeks. The author joked that if the wife asks if she can just stay in bed and pee, it would be best to head to the hospital. I wonder if this is true? I had never heard that tidbit before.

I'm going to start drinking so much water my stomach will want to burst. I can make myself pee every half hour if I want to.. But that probably doesn't count, does it?

Shh, I'm Growing a 30 Pound Baby

This is the part of pregnancy I never really believed would come. I have been feeling oh-so-cute and cuddly-adorable... until now. I never realized that after nine months of pregnancy I would still have a few more weeks to grow. And grow, I do. It's gross, really. I am almost 37 weeks along, which should equal nine months, if you divide by four weeks, and I still have about three weeks left to grow. Yuck.

Last Friday, I went on my now-weekly doctor appointment and was appalled to view a large number on the scale. I was careful to only have light food before my 1 o'clock appointment; some oatmeal, some yogurt, a banana. I was saving my lunch for after my appointment, to be sure I didn't weigh extra because of it. Well, lo and behold, I saw a rather eery red number on the digital scale. Yup, 190. I am ten pounds shy of 200 pounds. That has to be some sort of cruel joke. I swore the nurses were playing a trick on me. Nope, they weren't. I'm just growing.

I have read in a few books that this is the time frame in pregnancy where the mom will stop growing so much. I guess we just run out of room in our stomachs for food because of the ever-plumping baby. I don't know if that's a fact for me yet, but I do know that breathing has been more of a deliberate event than it was previously. I struggle to gain a full breath and feel a bit asthmatic lately. It's rather uncomfortable. I guess that goes with the territory as well.

Supposedly first-time mommies can feel a "drop" when the baby starts to descend into the pelvic area. I'm still waiting for that. I want to breathe again!! It's really kinda fun to feel every thump (and I do mean thump, there is nothing butterfly-like about Brady's movements now) and know that he could be born and survive. At 37 weeks, he will officially be a full-term baby. I will be 37 weeks this Saturday. Just a few more days. Kyle and I have been walking about with goofy grins on our faces. Every twinge I get, I sit and wait to see if it might be a contraction. I tell him when I feel more pressure on my pelvic floor. If I make any weird sounds in the bathroom, Kyle will inquire if my water broke. Ha! I know it's wishful thinking that Brady will come earlier than later, but I have reason to believe that I am not alone. Most new moms wish and hope that their whale-existence is over after they reach the full-term mark.

Kyle and I tried to reflect on what it was like for me to be around without being so a-round. We can't remember me without a belly. That's how long this pregnancy has seemed. I know it will be over soon, and that gives me great relief. I just wonder when. It feels like Christmas is just around the bend. We don't know what date Santa will drop in to bring our presents, but we do know he is coming and he will have the best gift ever!

So enough of being mushy about our baby. Let's get to the real deal. Pregnancy after nine months is cruel. It's cruel to look forward to being nine months pregnant and still having a few weeks to go until the baby is born. It's mean to feel like this is really never going to end. I count down the days like the date will be unchangeable. I've learned from friends and family that the due date isn't in stone. So to have a countdown to a date that might not be a reality is really just setting myself up for disappointment. I just have a feeling he will come a week late. Just because he is his mother's son.

I don't fit in any of my maternity clothes. I look like a fat girl trying to fit in her little sister's clothes. It's not pretty. People approach me with apprehension that the buttons on my shirt will fly off and cause optical injury. I get the "you look like you're gonna pop" exclamation a bit more than I would like, as I know I look that way. I feel that way. Can my skin get any tighter?? Can my veins be any more pronounced on my belly? It looks like a road map through the Northeast.

Ever since my doctor told me might weight gain has been on par and really good, I regret to admit that I took it as a license to eat. I think my total weight gain has been about 36 pounds or so. Maybe more or less, as I didn't record my starting weight. I think I'm on my way to at least 40 pounds. Which I know isn't a horrible weight gain. I guess I am just tired of gaining weight. I want the baby to come out so I can begin losing weight again. I want to be able to suck in my belly and actually see it go in. I joke that I should go to a gym and request a personal trainer to help with my growing belly that won't go down. Pretend that I don't believe I am pregnant. That should be a hidden camera scenario. Yup. I'm sick in the head.

I had my strep B test (I think that's what it's called?) the other week. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I was more afraid to get naked again, as I hadn't in months since my first prenatal exam. My buddy and I joked that we didn't want the doctor to go to our butt first then our vajajay. So we chanted "no contaminay the vajajay" before my appointment for good measure. Luckily that was painless and quick. I don't believe I have any more tests before the due date. That's just wonderful news. I asked about when they start to measure for dilation and the doctor said they start around 38 weeks. I was kinda hoping he would have started at the 36 week visit so I could be "pleasantly surprised" that I had started dilating. But, again, wishful thinking. I've got to stop that.

I had some Braxton Hicks contractions yesterday morning. They were mildly painful and I did wonder how long they would last. I think the total length of discomfort was about two minutes. I wondered if we would luck out to have a St. Patty's Day baby (wishful thinking). But then, the tightening in my stomach was over about as quick as it began. Part of me was relieved that it was just practice, and another part was a little bummed it wasn't THE day.

If anything, it did inspire me to pack my overnight hospital bag. It's pretty sad that all I have in it so far, is a camcorder with a new DVD, some grannie panties, new spare toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and my camera battery charger. Yeah, I'm not ready. But there are things that I would want to bring that I use on a daily basis. So, that's my practical side saying that I can't get too ready. Besides, I live just ten to fifteen minutes from the hospital. Kyle will have to go home to feed and let out Monkey while we are at the hospital anyway. He can get my mascara then.

So, while my baby probably is planning on being on time or even late, I will sit here and feel sorry for my ever-growing self. I will just plop on any surface than can hold my weight and wish away the end of this pregnancy. I am so excited to meet him, and I am trying to hold back my wishful thinking he will show early. I know that God has a plan and I will just sit back and wait. I will just tell myself that I am growing a thirty pound baby, and that is why I'm gaining so much weight. And I look forward to the new boobs I've been promised since the day I realized that the day God said "breasts", I thought he said "rest", and sat on a curb and waited.

Can No Longer Hover 'Round

Everyday I am more in awe of the fact that I am going to really be a mother. Sitting at my desk right now, I really feel so ordinary. Then I feel a swish of movement above my hips in my belly and I remember, I am making a human. It still blows me away. Sometimes I will tap my stomach and feel a slight tap back. It's so crazy to me. There are even instances where Brady will haul off and kick my hand hard. If that's even his foot. It's so mind boggling.

At this moment, I really feel like just me. I barely notice my belly. I have to touch it sometimes to remember it's there. Other days, my back aches, or I get a Braxton Hicks contraction, and I remember, yup, it's gonna happen. I'm going to have a baby.

Last year, in July, I found out I was pregnant. It's now a quarter of the way through 2009 and I'm still pregnant. I guess when it feels like I've been pregnant forever, the 2008 and 2009 dates make it seem no less.

I am starting to grow out of my maternity clothes. I remember looking at those outfits in Motherhood and Target and thinking, "wow, I will never get that big". Now, my basketball looks a little bit over inflated and bigger shirts are snug and clingy. I only have one pair of jeans that are comfy (the others seem to dig right into my belly). My work pants all still fit, which is great, but I want to be able to lounge in comfort!! So I bought a pair of cargo pants yesterday from Motherhood. I had a leftover gift certificate, so I used it. I glanced at capris with sadness that I probably won't wear a pair again until after Brady is born. Luckily, a friend reassured me she got her ankles back within a day or so after giving birth. I'm trying to keep these puppies hidden as long as I can. It's inhumane to subject strangers to looking at them!

Just a little over four weeks to go and this "practice" event will be a reality. I will have a baby. It's so surreal to me. My "license to eat" should be revoked soon.. But it's so hard. I'm hungry all the time! Then I get heartburn. Must be punishment for indulging in so many McFlurries!

We went to Taco Bell this past weekend for lunch. Taco Bell is my favorite place. Take me there over any five star restaurant and I would be satisfied. Luckily the TBell we went to was not in my town, or I would have had to rethink that thought. We were about two hours north of home, to take a river tour with Kyle's brother Jakey, and Cuz. We stopped at TBell for some lunch. Granted, I wasn't wearing a very form-fitting shirt... but the cashier asked me when I was due. I told her, "in five weeks". She said, "WOW!! YOU'RE BIG!!". You should have seen her face! It was like she was in utter shock and exclaimed like I told her I was growing 8 babies like the infamous Octomom. So, I did what any self-respecting pregger would do, I thanked her. Then I stammered and tried to calm myself before I turned into a beet. Kyle wanted me to tell her that in five weeks I will be skinny again, she will still have a mustache. But I was not "on my feet" at that moment. So we proceeded to find a booth to eat our lunch. Feeling quite chubby, I slid, er, rather, tried to slide, myself in a booth. I crammed my belly into that booth and started to wonder how the heck anyone bigger than average can eat there! Apparently we found the only misshapen booth in the place. It must've been made for little people.. Kyle moved across the way and I followed and felt relieved to find breathing room. Yup, just another example of how wonderful it is to be 35 weeks pregnant and growing.

Another fun fact about the end of pregnancy; well, besides the blueberry-sized hemorrhoids that hang out, of course, is the lack of ability to hover. I can hover no more. I try so hard to hover over a public toilet and fall down. It's not pretty. I'm top-heavy now and wobbly. I've discovered that when I went to pick up something I dropped in the parking garage the other day. I leaned over like any normal person would do and found myself teetering off my hands to push myself back up before I completely spilled out onto the ground. My mission was always to touch as little landscape in a public restroom as possible. Now, I just check to be sure it is clean before I plop down on the seat. I have no choice. Besides, aren't there studies that prove public toilets are cleaner than desk keyboards? That's my defense, and I'm sticking to it!