productionMaven part deux

I've addressed 100 birth announcements and they're going out tomorrow. I am a super mom. I've been agonizing over getting this done and lo and behold, it's done. It's like holiday cards. It has to be timely, but it takes for friggin ever. Now I just have to write our return address on the envelopes and it's gone, baby!

(if you want one, ring in on the comments, below, and be sure to e-mail me your address - my e-mail is jennb33 [at] gmail [dot] com)

I know I haven't posted anything lately. I have been beyond busy. I never thought that another 8 pound (he's now 14 lbs at 8 weeks old) creature in my life would throw things into such a tailspin. Orson is a great baby, even if he isn't doing so well in the sleeping-at-night department. It will come. It's just a phase. I've been back at work for 3 weeks (in the office 2 days a week) and it's a lot to juggle. Orson was coming with me, but I've asked G if he can manage him for one of the days, because I can't get much done when he's here with me. Parker's adjusting to life as a big sister fairly well - she's vocalizing when she needs "mommy time". It's hard, having a baby and a small child, but I keep reminding myself that it's just a phase, it will pass. G and I have taken to living life one minute at a time. I guess that means we're in recovery from parenthood.

I hope I'll get back to posting on a more routine basis. Maybe when both kids are in daycare and I'm not cramming 5 days of work into 2 days into the office.

Hope you're all having a nice summer!

I'm still here. I realize it's been almost a month since I last posted.... life with 2 kids, even when one is in school 4 days a week and the other is sleeping for most of the day, is tough. Harder than I imagined it would be. P was sick a couple of weeks ago with an early-summer cold, which she then gave to G, me and then O.... and O had a fever for a few nights. When your kid is sick, that's alarming. When it's a tiny 3-week old baby with a fever, it can be a little panic-inducing. G and I took him to the doctors, where they decided it was just virus, but we had to have blood drawn, just to make sure it wasn't a bacterial infection. There's nothing like watching a phelbotomist draw blood with the teeniest needle possible from your baby, then decide they need more, and trying it again three different times, in three different spots. P was home for 5-1/2 days of togetherness, and I just have to say that I am not at all cut out to be a stay-at-home mom.... I am just not that entertaining. When Monday came earlier in the week, we were all very excited for her to go back to school.

So we've kept busy, to say the least. (And, no, it wasn't bacterial, so we just had to wait the fever out. It is now gone). I've been working from home, and I learned that work won't credit me the 20+ hours per week that I've been working the last few weeks, so next week I'm taking a full week of vacation. We're headed to my parents on Thursday for the holiday weekend.

We've been doing a lot of "stuff" - going out to dinner, going to see friends, chamber mixers, strawberry picking, summer concert attending. G's birthday was Tuesday (he's toeing the line of 40! Yikes!) and he and my dad played in a golf tournament, then came home to dinner with some friends and my mom and I. I made an awesome chocolate mousse pie - per his request - that was really to die for. Last night, along with my parents, we met up with some friends and went to the VSO's summer concert kick-off. It had to be held inside due to some sopping wet fields, but it was really a lot of fun and there were fireworks thisclose after, in the fields outside. A wonderful way to kick off the official start of summer. Next week, we will enjoy 4 days on the lake, along with family, fireworks, my favorite parade in the entire state of Vermont, long walks in the cooler evening temperatures, and I'm sure an ice cream or six. I'll be forgetting about work for 4 whole days, and will start to prep for it on Sunday night.

Do tell: what are your plans for the Fourth?

I'm sure you've guessed by now that my absence last week was due to the arrival - finally - of the baby, and here he is:



(by the way, Photobucket keeps crashing on me whenever I try to resize things, so my apologies for the hugeness. Anyone know of any other photo website like photobucket with less bullshit associated with it??)

On Thursday, 29 May, early-early in the morning, I thought I was in labor, so G and I headed off to the hospital at 2:30 in the morning. We were allowed into a room where a night nurse with the stubbiest fingers EVER checked my cervix (not the most comfortable sensation, let me share that with you) and found me to be 2cm dilated. They told me they would give me a couple more hours, and would check again. We were both able to sleep, and in a couple of hours - telltale sign, here: we were able to sleep - I was checked again and told that there was no change, so I could proceed home. In other words, we were sent home. O, the horror!! How embarassing!

The next day, I went to my OB appointment and was checked again. Cervix still at 2cm, and "soft", but nada. We decided to get me on the schedule for induction on June 11, in case he wasn't born by then - the birthing center has been insanely busy and the options were either June 3 or 11. I wanted to avoid being induced as much as I could, because of the complications that could arise from being induced - long, hard labors that often result in a c-section, from what I've gathered from friends. Also, pitocin? No thanks, if I can avoid it. I went home again, not as pouty but wishing that I had been at least 4 cm and told to report to the hospital immediately if not sooner.

Saturday morning - around 2:30 - I woke up with pains that seemed to be regular and increasing in intensity. However, I wasn't going to go to the hospital again to be told that I needed to turn around because it was false labor again, so I waited and timed and waited and waited and watched the clock. At one point I called the hospital and they told me that because the start-to-start time of the pains was kind of all over the place (3 minutes, 5 minutes, 1 minute, 2 minutes), that I needed to wait until they were mostly consistent, then to come in. Our friend M arrived at 9 to watch P until my parents could come, and off we went to the hospital again, and this time I was sure that this was really labor. I bet G that I was around 5cm dialated, when we got to the hospital. We were escorted into one of the last available rooms - huge! Private bathrooms! Big windows! Labor & delivery is all in the same room! - and when I was checked, this time by a nurse with mercifully long fingers - I was, indeed, 5cm dilated. The heavens opened up and we were admitted.

I asked for the pain meds - there was no way I wasn't going to have hospital-regulated morphine, no way no day!! - and they were administered by 11:35. I was told that they would have maximum effect for 2 hours.... and I did say a little prayer: "please let this baby be born by 1:30!!" so that I wouldn't have to worry about the meds wearing off. At one point, when I was around 8cm, a nurse walked in and couldn't believe that G and I were just in the room, reading our books. I told her that I was saving the drama for another time - I wasn't worried about getting to the pushing point. Just worried about the pushing duration, because with P I pushed for 4 hours. Ouch.

By about quarter to 1, I felt like I was about ready to push. The doctor came in, had a feel around, and declared that I was fully dilated and whenever I wanted to push, I could go for it. They got my legs into position, gave me some little handles to hold onto and bear down on, and the race was on!!! I pushed for 20 minutes, and out the baby came, at 1:15pm. There was minimal tearing, compared to P's birth where I was torn from front to back in a most unpleasant manner, and I only required a couple of stitches. The best part, by far, was holding our new baby. His name is Orson Auldus Tuttle Brown - Orson because G likes the name, Auldus for my dad and grandfather, Tuttle for my mom and her father, and Brown because it's our last name.

I will say that I did have to have my bladder cathatarized which was highly unpleasant and required several nurses and tries to get that done - since I didn't pee on my own after the pain meds, they had to make sure that everything bladder-wise was ok and that required a long scary tube in a painful place. I don't wish to go through that again. Orson is feeding well, though, and thriving in many ways. I realize this is not a glowing write-up, but it's the end of a long day and I have to go upstairs and do the one tennant I have been told NEVER to do: WAKE A SLEEPING BABY but it's time to feed him again.

I will say this: having 2 kids is challenging as all hell, but so worth every moment. They are awesome together, and I feel like our family is complete.

Last night, after a nice day and a free dinner at our town's elementary school of spaghetti and bread and salad, I put my feet up, watched a little TV, then we went to bed at 9:30 to read. I felt like there was some contraction action, so around 10 we started to time them. Start-to-start, they were 3 minutes apart. That's good. They seemed to be getting stronger and stronger as time progressed, so we called the hospital and, after timing them for a while, I called my parents. They hopped in the car to get down here to be here for P, and at 2 we took off for the hospital.

We were checked in, I peed in the cup, changed into a gown, hopped into the bed, and got strapped up to the monitor. 20 minutes went by, the heartbeat was good, the contractions were regular. They checked "under the hood" - about 2 cm dialated. I was told they would check me again in a couple of hours, so G got into his temporary bed, and I stayed in mine, and we got an hour or so of sleep. When they checked again, I had just woken up, the contractions had slowed, and I was still only 2cm dialated.

So the hospital bounced us.... home we came at 5:30am, tails between our legs. It's a little embarassing to admit that I didn't know what was going on with my body, but it's hard to tell. Contractions and cramps are all painful, and they just get more so as they progress. Does it hurt now? Yes. Does it still hurt? Yes.

We got home, and went back to bed. My mother-in-law called us at 7:15, announcing that she was at the hospital. Where we were not. So we're having a little family reunion this morning. My mom's making pancakes, G is trying to finish up some work, my dad took P to get some bacon, my mother-in-law's chatting with my mom about all of their grandbabies. And me? I am doing what I've been doing: waiting, feeling contractions (some strong, some not), and I will wait until the baby is crowning, probably, before heading up to the hospital again.

Baby update: nothing.
It's been a full week since I lost the 'plug, though, so I expect to be slammed into labor any moment now. It's a little alarming, I must say.

Stay tuned!

Today is week 40 of this pregnancy. Day 280. To say I'm ready for this baby to be born is a slight understatement. I've had weeks of Braxton-Hicks contractions (basically my abdomen becomes a steel ball for anywhere from 5-10 minutes), all just my uterus getting ready. Last Wednesday, after a day-long off-site retreat for work, I rid myself of my "plug" which is a good indication that labor is imminent (for the uninitiated: the plug is the mucus that covers the opening of the cervix, and keeps it extra safe from bacteria and the like durning pregnancy). When P was born, I lost it on Sunday around dinner time at our friend's house; by 12:02 the next morning I was having regular contractions and she was born Monday morning at 11:18. Well, let's just say that the plug's been missing for 5 days, and there's no definitive signs of labor commencing any time soon.

My doctor's appointment on Friday was somewhat helpful, and entirely frustrating. Yes, my cervix is softening - meaning it's getting ready to open. Yes, it's "short" - meaning it's moving into the position that it needs to be in, to facilitate the baby moving down the birth canal. But.... they don't have any way of telling when it will happen. I'm still having the Braxton-Hicks contractions (I know they're not real contractions because they're not coming on any kind of regular basis), but aside from that, there hasn't been any signs of real labor. It's killing me because I know that it's going to be soon, I just don't know when. You know that Christmas is always on December 25th - there's no guess-work involved. It's just a matter of counting down to that day. You know what day your birthday is, or when you're going on vacation, or when you're getting married. Sure, there's a lot of anticipation, but you can cross off days on a calendar and count down the hours until the plane leaves or the Wedding March starts, down to the second. Having babies is more like hoodoo guru; you don't know when, exactly, it will happen. You get an arbitrary date according to your cycle, and all eyes focus on that date.... but if the date comes and goes, it's a shrug of the shoulders, and then everything that comes out of your body is suspect. Every internal move begs the question: "Is this it? Is this it?" It's a constant questioning of when, when, when???

Needless to say, for someone who is schedule-driven, as I am, this can be hugely frustrating.

So we're in the waiting pattern. We've been doing things around the house, which is great, like putting in the garden (very modest this year - mostly flowers and pumpkins and a couple of tomato plants), and laundry and yardwork. We've had an amazing holiday weekend, with beautiful weather, so we've been outdoors. We've been sleeping in. We've socialized on a limited basis (gas is, still, $3.89/gallon so we're not doing much driving around), but have had early nights. And we're waiting.

Here are some belly-shots taken last week at work. I'm done working in the office, there's a little too much question as to "when" and the last thing I want to do is go into labor at work. Since work is 40 miles and 60 minutes away from home, I'll be working from home until the kid is born.





So, here's to hoping there's no Preg Week 41 update, and instead an entry about our new child, what he's like, who he looks like, what his birth-stats were, and how awesome it is to hold a new baby again, for next week.

Joining my other two favorite pregnancy symptoms (that would be massive swelling of EVERYTHING - ankles, carpal tunnel, boobs, belly, etc and the sciatica that I'm having so much fun with lately), the "hemmer-row" has joined the party just in time to enjoy the last 10 days (or, hell, maybe 20 days, if this kid extends his stay like P did) of this pregnancy.

We call it the hemmer-row because even the OB was impressed with my growth after P was born. I won't go into great detail - it's no fun for any of us, really - but I will say that there will a laying-in and application of massive amounts of Preparation H going forward. TMI? So sorry.

Since we're meeting our deductible this year, in addition to me scheduling weekly chiropractic appointments and a date with a dermatologist to get my skin reviewed closely, and G going in for the snippy-snip at the end of the year, I guess I'll be looking up a proctologist to remove the 'row. And it won't cost me one fucking red cent. By the by - who on earth would ever want to be a proctologist? Who wakes up one morning and says "I think I want to go to medical school to study assholes, polyps and hemmeroids"? God bless 'em, whoever they are.

Have a nice weekend, all.

We're getting down to the wire on this new baby thing. I packed my bag last weekend, and with the exception of throwing my glasses and deoderant and moisturizer in the bag, I think we're ready. I washed the car seat cover, too. G has to install the car seats next, then I'm calling us "ready as we'll ever be".

With time comes contemplation, though. I have 2 weeks and 2 days of work to get through, to finish things that I'd like to have buttoned up before the kid gets here. Of course, I don't know if he'll be accomodating and understanding enough about my dates at work to wait until 5/29 or beyond to make his arrival. The house keeps getting clean on Saturday, and a few days later there are little dust bunnies and scraps of paper floating around, along with toys lightly scattered hither and yon, laundry that needs doing, bathrooms that need cleaning. The house can never be clean enough for me. This is going to continue to be my challenge after this new baby comes, and grows into a member of our family, and then starts to make his own messes. I can only hope that P will have outgrown the mess-making stage by the time he hits it, as she has become potty-trained well before I have a newborn's diapers to monitor and change, so that I'm only cleaning up after one kid at a time.

And just today my friend M asked me how I was feeling, and I realize I'm feeling a little aprehensive. I'm not worried about the labor (not looking forward to it or the aftermath - let's be clear - but not feeling scared about it); instead I'm wondering how this little boy will fit into our lives. How will he grow into being a member of our family? Will he fit in? How will the dynamic change? You can lay in as many diapers and wipes and clean onsies and car seats with freshly-laundered covers as you want. You can buy new nipples for the bottles that will be used later, sterilize the breast pump's pieces and parts, have new bedding and some new pictures to hang on the wall, fill the dresser with less pink and girly and more blues and greens with puppies and jungle animal appliques. One question that can not be answered is, how exactly is this all going to work? What role will he play in my life?

I'm looking forward to meeting him, and seeing his little face and counting his fingers and toes. I look forward to his wonderment at this world that we live in. But I'm a little scared to rock the boat of something that is pretty damn good. I have a wonderful, clever, darling, tempermental daughter; a loving, moody, willing, helpful husband, great dogs and cats that are comfortable in the house. How will a new baby fit in? What will he like? Will he be colicky? A good eater? A good sleeper? An easy baby or one that will throw a wrench into all things that I know about parenting?

This, along with the when will he be here, are two things that I absolutely have no answer to. I have no crystal ball to peer into, no one who has "been there and done that" that I can ask their advice of. Of course there are plenty of people out there who have two children - and more - so this isn't unique. I'm not the first mother to have these questions. But since each experience is different, just as each child is different, it's a path that I'll have to forge on my own. I'll be sure to report back on my findings.

Not me, my co-worker N. She was due on 6/11, and instead she had her little boy today via c-section a little earlier than she expected.

CONGRATULATIONS, N, J and little J!

In my news, I'm status quo. Three weeks to go. Yo yo yo yo.

I have a list of what needs to be packed. Here it is:

- video camera (which will in no way ever be pointed at my cooch for the delivery shot)
- regular digital camera
- nursing bras
- clothes for the baby
- phone list
- music (but, do we bring in the little portable stereo? do we get a dock for the iPod, which I have wanted for ever-so-long? does that mean I have to make up a playlist? one for labor and one for "after"? too many questions)
- clothes for me
- toiletries for me. the baby won't be wearing deoderent just yet.
- the car seat

Am I missing anything? I looked online and this is what popped out at me. Maybe I'll bring something to read, if I'm in the midst of a good book. And I'll bring a notebook to write things about the boy after he makes his premier. But... I feel like I'm missing SOMETHING.

I don't know. All will be revealed in time. In the meantime, I've got THREE WHOLE WEEKS TO GO! That's like forever, right?

I've reached the "I've had it" stage of pregnancy.

Paired with a new and improved headcold (now with ExtraPhlegm(tm)), my waddling body, swollen cankles, and restless nights of sleep are leaving me as quite a prize for all who surround me.

The maternity policy at work leaves quite a bit to be desired. I'll have some time off, but I can't and won't walk away from my job. I still have to come back to it when I do return, so I'd rather not leave it a mess and have it get messier.

I've started thinking about labor. I'm not afraid of it, but it's the not the same as, say looking forward to a 2-week vacation in a tropical locale with free fruity rum-laced drinks, if you get my drift.

I'm lactating. My boobs are killing me. I can't sleep on my stomach. My hands are all pins-and-needles. My ass/sciatic area hurts.

Right now as I write this my baby is bonking around. I can't bend in half. I grunt when I bend over.

Sleep is intermittent and filled with bizarre dreams of things that HAVE TO GET DONE so I wake up all charged and check-list oriented.

My house is kind of a mess. But that's always the case toward the end of the week.... cleaning on Saturday will wipe me out, I'm sure.

Last night I went home after almost falling asleep while driving, I went up to bed, and slept from about 6:30 to 6:45 this morning - albeit with plenty of interruptions.

We don't have a name for this kid yet. His room is ready. I need to buy picture frames for some decoration.

Are we there yet?
Is he here yet?

This past weekend I was to go up to my mom's house and help her out with a shower for her neighbor and long-time friend's daughter who, at 37 or so, is expecting her first child in July. I thought that having a shower in April for a July baby was early, then I remembered that my shower for Parker, who was due in late-December, was in September, so who was I to judge? I also thought it strange that my mom wanted me to help her put this shower on for someone that I haven't seen since my sophmore year in high school, but she told me she needed my help cooking so I stopped asking questions and G and I went up on Friday. Both of our moms helped out with Parker last week while we were daycare-less, and P had a sleepover on Thursday night at Gramma & TaTa's, one that went off without a hitch.

Friday night we're sitting around in my parent's living room, watching the Red Sox game, and the doorbell rings. At 9:00. What has to be explained here is that my parents live in a pretty remote area, and no one that would be coming to their house that late at night would be ringing the doorbell (i.e. it might just be their friend from down the street stopping by, and she's so close she would just walk in without even knocking). My mom went downstairs, and my dad made an off-hand comment, like "boy, UPS sure does deliver at all hours of the night". I thought nothing of it, and a moment later I turned my head and saw my best friend from college, who now lives in Boston, standing in their hallway with a huge package in her hand and a shit-eating grin on her face. I haven't seen S. since last summer, when we went to Boston for another friend's baby shower and we hung out with her and her husband. S had been my matron-of-honor, had planned my first baby shower, and is one of those rock-solid people in my life who never ceases to amaze me. Seeing her standing in the entry-way just about blew my mind.

Turns out, there was no shower the next day - it's actually going to be on 21 June, for the neighbor's daughter. My mom and S had collaborated and been talking in private and they were going to be taking me to a spa for the next day, for a pedicure (very much needed), a facial, and a massage (also totally needed), then we would do lunch and my mom would take me to a good used-clothing store for some duds for the kid. I was floored: no one - not G, not my dad, and certainly not my mom or S - had said word-one to me about this. I'm glad I didn't fall over - I tend to collapse when I get surprised. It's a nice trait that I have.

The next morning, we eat breakfast, shower, and were out the door on time. We were getting our marching orders at the spa on where to change, what to do with our stuff, what to wear, etc, when my best friend locally, M, strolls around the corner and says "Hey, Jenn!" Honestly, my first thought was, "wow, was a coincidence that M is here too, on the same day as me! Funny she didn't mention anything about it when we spoke this week". Well, ha-ha, she was in on it too. She didn't say ANYTHING when we drove to book club on Thursday night.... How do these people keep such great secrets?? I can if I'm really hard-pressed to do so, but it would be so nerve-wracking to stay quiet and not explode with such effervescent, juicy information.

Thus commenced one of the most relaxing Saturdays that I've enjoyed in quite some time. I had been asking my mom if there was going to be a shower for me, because people have been asking, and she kept saying that it was unnecessary for 2nd babies, so no shower. And, honestly, this was better.... I don't need all the swag that comes with showers, as much as it would be appreciated, we have all the "gear" that we need for this kid. I got a chance to spend some good quality time with strong women that I love and respect, and got the day off from being mom. I got a wonderful massage that addressed my carpal tunnel and sciatic pains, I got a delicious lunch, I got a bunch of laughter and an opportunity to just hang out and not feel rushed, I got some "Catherine the Grape"-colored toenails and some adorable outfits for the new baby. I got the new bedding set from my parents for the baby, and a beautiful hand-made quilt from S (but I didn't get glittered; it's only taken me 18 years but I don't open things from Sue with reckless abandonment for fear of glitter going everywhere because it's ALWAYS in the package or envelope SOMEWHERE), I got some me-time. That's the best gift anyone could give a mother-to-be who has a kid on the ground.

Thank you, mom, S and M for making Saturday so wonderful!!! I don't know what I could do to pay you back for your surprises, and I want you to know that you've made me a happy, relaxed puddle of pregnancy. One that still needs to pack a bag for the hospital, but I have 4 weeks to go, so I'm going to bask in the glow from the weekend for as long as I can.

I know I didn't post last Monday to mark week 34. Something came up and I don't remember what it was but it felt like it was of highest priority at the time and I just didn't do it. Sorry.

So here we are, rolling into counting down on a single hand how many more weeks I have until my due date. Curiously, in 3 weeks I'll be at "term" - meaning, despite the wonders of science, OBs still can't give you an exact date of when the kid was conceived or will be born, so there's wiggle room of about 4 weeks (yes, you heard right: FOUR WEEKS) between "term": 38 weeks and "offically overdue": 42 weeks. Rarely will a doctor allow for the mother to go past 42 weeks, because that could be very dangerous if she wants to deliver "naturally", meaning through her vag. Dangerous meaning that the kid will pop out full-grown and smoking a butt. All that oxygen in the delivery room, you know. I do have several friends who were at least 2 weeks late, and one was 3 weeks late. If that happens to me, I might have to drink a bottle of castor oil in one sitting to get the kid stimulated and greased up to COME THE FUCK OUT.

So I'm at 35 weeks. P was 10 days late - she was born at 41 weeks and 3 days, on the day that I was scheduled to be induced. I'm placing my bets on this kid coming on 2 June, which would be fine with me because I have a terrible amount of work to do at the end of May - of course. Isn't that always the way things roll?

Here are some fun symptoms I'm experiencing, in varying degrees of enjoyment:
- my fingers are swollen like little sausages
- I'm waddling, which is H-O-T-T
- the application for my ankles to become cankles has been unanimously accepted and they have swollen appropriately. The left one, in particular, is having a jolly time reaching "elephantine" status pretty much the moment I put my feet on the floor in the morning. The only shoes that fit are my 3-sizes-too-large danskos and flip flops.
- none of my clothes fit. Everything is too low, too tight, too revealing of camel-toe.
- I am enjoying copious amounts of ice cream nightly.
- the urge to nest is making me manic and exhausted. Yesterday we did yard work, there is plenty more to do, and I am fervently wishing for a staff to clean my house! clean my yard! plant my garden! brush my dogs! do my laundry! cook dinner! clean up after dinner! G gets a medal for putting up with me lately.
- the crying at various, unrelated, unsentimental things continues
- I'm alternately freezing then burning up. Early menopause, it sure is nice to experience you again.
- the child continues to lean and push on my bladder. Full or not, I feel the need to pee all the damn time.
- for some curious, unsexual, painful reason the very tops of the insides of my thighs are aching and killing me
- the hands continue to fall asleep and get all pins-and-needle-y, requiring that I wave my hands around like a maniac trying to catch some air
- i'm walking at a senior citizen's pace (while, of course, waddling)
- groaning when I bend down to get something
- my ass seems to have spread so that no chairs at the office are comfortable
- napping would be desireable, but when I do fall asleep I'm restless and can't get comfortable

So. Only five - or six - weeks more of this! Nothing, right! Not a problem at all!!

A co-worker of mine, who is also expecting her second, is shocked that I haven't yet packed my bag for the hospital. What can I say? I'm feeling like I need to throw caution to the wind. Ha!! Because that is just so like me! (Truthfully - I can't for the life of me think about what needs to go into said bag. I know clothing, but what else? Need to research this further, soon).

I'm kind of glad this is my last pregnancy. Although, talk to me in 3 years when this kid is all independent and autonomous and I'm craving another baby. It has been cute reviewing all of the little teeny tiny baby clothes and folding them up.

Actually, don't talk to me, talk me out of it.

This not only broke my heart in multiple places, it also reduced me to dripping tears at my desk and reminded me, like a 2x4 upside the head, how fortunate I am, in so many ways in my life. It's horrible that this is what it takes to be reminded of how good things are, but I'll take the lesson and hug my child as close to me as I can this afternoon before she wriggles away and runs off to be her own glorious self.

I may have stresses, and I may have anxiety, but this is not one of them. And for that, I have gratitude.

We had an ultrasound last Friday, and it was revealed that all is going - and growing - well on the inside. The baby is still a boy, and his heartbeat, head- and abdominal circumference measurements are right where they should be. My doctor thinks that he's about 5 lbs 3 oz based on the measurements she was able to get, and that he'll be around 8 lbs 14 oz or so when he's born. I'm sure looking forward to feeling that!!!!

We had to cut the ultrasound short because I started feeling lightheaded and hot - not sure if it's because it had been 4 hours since I had eaten, resulting in low blood sugar, or if it's because I was lying on my back, which can restrict blood-flow to the mother. At any rate, all is fine. And I would post a picture but photobucket.com is being a shit and won't upload the image.

So, yeah. Healthy baby. Big baby. Boy baby. He was a punk like his sister was and had his arm in front of his face. I'm glad he has arms.