Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Twenty Eight Weeks

It's the third trimester, baby! Bring on the sciatica and the swollen ankles! Wooohooo! Honestly, I'm excited/scared/anxious/conflicted/panicked/elated to be getting so close. We still have so much to do to prepare for Avery's arrival. The nursery isn't painted, we haven't bought a dresser yet, the glider hasn't been reupholstered, and I haven't washed one stitch of her clothes. By this point in my pregnancy with Will, everything was set up perfectly in his room, and I was just waiting around for him to get here. You learn from your mistakes. If I learned anything from my first pregnancy, it's that the longest part of the pregnancy is the third trimester. It's a whole lot of hurry up and wait. Once you pass the threshold of 37 weeks and you're considered full term, it seems like things come to a complete halt. You want the baby out and you want them out now. I have resolved to be more patient this time around in that regard, so I'm figuring if I have a few loads of laundry to do, that might take my mind off of the delivery a bit. Patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue....say it with me.

I went for my checkup yesterday and she is doing just fine in there. As soon as my midwife put the doppler on my stomach to check for her heartbeat, she proceeded to try and kick it off repeatedly. I think my midwife's exact words were, "Wow, your baby has an attitude already." Rob was delighted to hear this news.

And here's the email for week 28....

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

Here they go again with these uber specific vegetables. Chinese caggage. Ewwww! Not a fan of cabbage in any form. My granny used to cook it from time to time and I would come in the house holding my nose because of that rancid smell.

I also have a new belly picture for this week. I'm starting to feel REALLY big and I've still got 12 weeks to go. I only want to gain 15 more pounds (if that) and I've got all the yummy holiday food to plow through. God help me.


Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Twenty Seven Weeks

Today marks the beginning of week 27 of my pregnancy, and I decided to start it off with a bang by getting a terrible, miserable, nasty cold. Kleenex is my BFF right now as I'm blowing my nose about 216 times a day. I met with this great pharmacist today too who pretty much told me that the only suggestion that she had for me was to keep taking the medicine that I'm already taking. I wondered for a minute if they taught any common sense in pharmacy school, because why on earth would I be at the drugstore seeking out a different medication if the one I'm already taking is working out??? Just sayin'.

The sickness doesn't seem to be effecting Avery too much. She's in there beating around just like she always has. She kicks so hard sometimes, that I about jump out of my seat. Rob just looks at me like I'm crazy, at which point I try to explain to him the feeling of being goosed from the inside directly in the bladder.

Here's what the little Ms. is up to this week according to the gurus.

This week, your baby weighs almost 2 pounds (like a head of cauliflower) and is about 14 1/2 inches long with her legs extended. She's sleeping and waking at regular intervals, opening and closing her eyes, and perhaps even sucking her fingers. With more brain tissue developing, your baby's brain is very active now. While her lungs are still immature, they would be capable of functioning — with a lot of medical help — if she were to be born now. Chalk up any tiny rhythmic movements you may be feeling to a case of baby hiccups, which may be common from now on. Each episode usually lasts only a few moments, and they don't bother her, so just relax and enjoy the tickle.

Since reading this, cauliflower is sounding really good. I have a head at home that I've been planning on mashing. Has anyone ever tried mashed cauliflower? I hear that it's a great substitute to mashed potatoes without all those pesky carbs and calories. I'll let you know if it tastes like cardboard.

And on the next episode of this crazy sitcom known as my life....
Molar Hell and the Toddler who Can't Sleep.

Stay tuned,

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

The Great Name Debate

After several agonizing months of back and forth between Rob and I over the name of our new addition, we have finally come to an agreement.

And we shall call her....

Avery Wynn

The End.

P.S. If you hate it, please keep it to yourself. Thank you for your cooperation.

Twenty Six Weeks

I'm 26 weeks along in this pregnancy, which means that I'm into the double digits of the countdown. I now have 97 days until my due date. When you put it that way, it doesn't seem like long at all. I'm excited, and at the same time, it makes me want to panic just a little bit. We finally get to start on the nursery this weekend, because the bedding arrived and I bought a glider. Things are starting to come together, and I haven't even had to hurt Rob yet. Score!

Here is the email about our baby girl this week.

How Your Baby is Growing:
The network of nerves in your baby's ears is better developed and more sensitive than before. He may now be able to hear both your voice and your partner's as you chat with each other. He's inhaling and exhaling small amounts of amniotic fluid, which is essential for the development of his lungs. These so-called breathing movements are also good practice for when he's born and takes that first gulp of air. And he's continuing to put on baby fat. He now weighs about a pound and two-thirds and measures 14 inches (an English hothouse cucumber) from head to heel. If you're having a boy, his testicles are beginning to descend into his scrotum — a trip that will take about two to three days.

An English hothouse cucumber, huh? Not just any regular ol' cucumber, an English hothouse one! I told you they were going to start running out of vegetables to compare this kid to.

Till next time,

Friday, October 9, 2009


We all have those mornings in which absolutely everything goes wrong. The ones that slap you out of sleep and declare, "Hello there, I'm just here to make your day miserable. Now let's get this party started." The mornings when you step out of bed and immediately stub your toe on the nightstand. Then you slip and fall in the shower, your hair dryer stops working and all of your clothes shrunk a size hanging in your closet overnight. You know those mornings, right? We've all been cursed by them, and unfortunately there is no way to escape them. Having those mornings from time to time is just the sacrifice that we make for being granted another day.

I had one on Wednesday. It was so bad, in fact, it's taken me two days to gain the strength to write about it. I woke up 10 minutes late with a splitting headache. Strike one. When Will woke up, he apparently had decided that this was a day to just rage. He whined and cried about everything. EVERY.SINGLE.THING. He had a full blown meltdown when I told him it was time to get in the shower. Screaming, sobbing, thrashing around on the carpet while I attempted to remove his pajamas. Let me just tell you, trying to get a kid's pajamas off of their body while they are convulsing all over the floor is no easy task. I finally got him undressed and in the shower, but he cried "I CAN'T TAKE A SHOWER!!!" the entire time. Strike two. Getting him dried off and getting his clothes on after the shower was an equally daunting task. By this point, he was so mad that he was fighting everything. He decided between sobs that he wanted toaster muffins for breakfast. I threw them in the toaster and went to get myself dressed. My black shirt had lint all over it, and I couldn't find the lint roller. In between looking high and low for it, I grabbed the muffins out of the toaster, threw them on a plate and took them to Will. Found the lint roller, but realized while rolling that my shirt, (one that I had bought about 2 weeks ago and wore one other time), now had a hole in it. I took some deep breaths and found another shirt. Meanwhile, I could still hear Will whining in the other room. Something about "MY MUFFIN!" and "FIX IT!" Apparently, when I removed his muffins from the toaster, a tiny piece of one of the muffins tore off.

Stop right there. To any normal person, this isn't a huge deal. Who cares that a little piece of the muffin broke off, right? Let me tell you who cares...Will cares! This kid has an abnormal aversion to food that breaks in any way. Granola bars should be banned from our house because of the way they tend to crumble. It's just too much for his little mind to comprehend. He simply can't take it.

I gently tried explaining to him that I couldn't reattach the torn piece back onto the muffin. You would have thought that I had said to him, "All of the toys in the world will be destroyed and you will never again be allowed to play," because another meltdown of gargantuan proportions ensued. He decides that he doesn't want the muffins at all then. I take them away and go to put on my shoes. OKAY, WHERE ARE MY SHOES?? I search and can't find them while listening to Will whine, "I want my muffins!" I ignored him. I remembered that the shoes I was looking for were in the car.

I threw our lunch into a bag and told Will it was time to go. (At this point, we're already 5 minutes late leaving the house.) He cries that he wants me to carry him out to the car. I grab Will up, snap at Rob and he snaps back.

Strike 3.

Tears. Tears and tears and more tears. I cried for torn muffins, and new shirts with holes in them, and headaches that wake you up in the morning, and kids that don't want to take showers. I cried for couples who snap at each other when things don't go right. Mostly though, I cried because of doubt. Doubt in my ability to be a mom to two kids, when look at me, I can't even do it with one! All these feelings of inadequacy just came washing over me, and I started to question if I can really make it work when I have two kids screaming instead of one. I found myself saying out loud, "I can't do this," which made me cry harder. Now, I thought, I'm a mom who can't hold it together and is crying in front of her kid. Will was silent and concerned as I strapped him into his car seat, and let the tears just roll down my cheeks. I got in the car, dried my face, and told myself that I am going to be a wonderful mother to both of my children. I told myself that people do it every single day, and make it work, and I'll be no exception. I told myself that it's normal to have these days and tomorrow would be better. I told myself all of that, but deep down, I thought I was lying. But you know what, the next day was better. Will was an angel, my shirt didn't have a hole in it, my shoes were in my closet, and there were no broken muffins. These are the kinds of days that make all the other ones worthwhile.

Happy weekend,

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Twenty Five Weeks

I'm 25 weeks now and it feels as though my progress with this pregnancy has come to a stop. Time was going really quickly in the beginning, and now it seems to be trudging along very slowly. I'm sure that once the holidays come, it will fly right past me though, so I'm going to just enjoy this time while I can.

This past week in my pregnancy has been fairly uneventful. The heartburn has calmed down a bit (knock on wood), I've been sleeping well and I really don't have any complaints at all. I even found a way to stop stressing over the stupid bedding. I just found something I love and bought it. That should put an end to the madness. I can't wait for it to come in so that we can match a paint color and start on the nursery. (I.E. So that we can match a paint color and ROB can start painting the nursery.)

Here's what's going on with the gal this week.

How Your Baby's Growing
Head to heels, your baby now measures about 13 1/2 inches. Her weight — a pound and a half — isn't much more than an average rutabaga, but she's beginning to exchange her long, lean look for some baby fat. As she does, her wrinkled skin will begin to smooth out and she'll start to look more and more like a newborn. She's also growing more hair — and if you could see it, you'd now be able to discern its color and texture.

A rutabaga? I can honestly say, I've never had one in my life. I don't think I had ever even seen a rutabaga before. What does it taste like? Maybe I'm missing out on something special here? Let me know.

Oh, and here's a 25 week belly shot. I finally have that undeniable baby belly...I hope!


Thursday, October 1, 2009

Strike a Pose

Will is a fairly agreeable guy. 97% of the time, he does what he is being asked and doesn't put up too much of a fight. The other 3%, he's a raving maniac also known as "toddler." That being said, he's never been much of a fan of getting his picture taken. I pull out my camera and he's all "NO, Mommy! STOP!" So, I have a lot of pictures of the kid's hand up in front of his face. Thank God for digital technology, so that I can delete the 27 terrible pictures of him frowning and keep that one good one that he wasn't aware I was snapping.

Knowing all of this, when his preschool sent home a note saying that they would be getting their pictures taken, I kind of giggled under my breath and thought, "Yeah, good luck with that." Imagine my surprise when we got the pictures back and not only is he smiling, he's posing like he's been doing this for years.

This one is the most (read: only) normal one of the bunch. He's smiling. He's happy. He's just a kid at preschool getting his picture taken.

This next one had me laughing so hard, I was crying. So natural. HA!

Oh, and this last one. What can I say. It's a crisp, fall day, and he's sitting outside leaned against a park bench just pondering the meaning of life. You know, because he sits just like this ALL the time at home with his hands in the grandma clasped position.

Disclaimer: If you are my family and would like any of these lovely glamour shots, let me know. I will have to order them directly from the company, so that they won't hunt me down and jail me for reproduction infringement. Thank you for your cooperation.