Are My Cheeks Red?

I've always been a pretty modest person. Growing up words like n-a-k-e-d and s-e-x made my face turn pink and I would start to giggle uncontrollably. I refused to let my mom tell me about my ever impending doom - puberty - until one day, around 10 or 11 years old, she forced me to sit down on her bed and hear what she had to say whether I liked it or not. I only wanted information on a need-to-know basis and apparently I needed to know. I sat there with my back turned to her as she described what was going to happen. It was the only way I could listen without dying from embarrassment. When my dad walked in mid-conversation I nearly had a cow. Panic welled up inside of me. Oh no! He can't know about these things! Too much! Can't take it.... GET OUT!! Poor Dad. That'll teach him to walk into his own bedroom without knocking.

Thankfully, I have since grown out of that sort of intense embarrassment and as an adult I am able to talk calmly about things that are medically necessary. However, I still get embarrassed easily when it comes to the more personal, non-medical aspects of my life. When my parents came to help us move, my dad unpacked a box of our bathroom items. He was showing me where he put everything, including an extra pregnancy test. My little girl instinct was to run and hide or scream "get out!!" like an insane ten year old, but then I realized... DUH!! He knows you've taken pregnancy tests, you're pregnant!! Apparently I like people to think I've been living as a nun for the past five years. Oh and this baby belly. Immaculate conception. Yep. That's what it is. As a logical adult I understand how ridiculous this is and usually I'm able to tell myself to grow up and I do. Still, I like to think that my private life is exactly that, private. I understand that some people have a looser definition of the word "private" so I'm not bothered by others discussing the intimate details of their lives, but you can stay out of the intimate details of mine, thankyouverymuch.

My version of "privacy" was unfortunately shot to pieces today, when a woman from church came to help unpack some of our boxes. We moved 3-4 weeks ago and because of the bed rest still have a lot of unpacking to do. When she offered to help I was extremely hesitant to let her see the contents of our boxes. I expressed my concern to Husband last night and he claimed that he had already unpacked the items that I might be uncomfortable with so I went ahead and showed her the boxes. Who cares if she see my shoes and jewelry, right? Really, we don't even own anything worth being embarrassed about, right? WRONG!!! If I could go back in time and stop what happened next I would. I think my face is still red.

As I sat on my bed she began to pull items out of the box. With each item I would direct her where to place them. At first it was pretty innocuous. Shoes, more shoes, hats, jewelry boxes... the most embarrassing thing was actually the way the boxes had been packed. Sadly, Husband was in charge of packing and we'll just say he's not the most meticulous packer around. Fortunately this was easily brushed off and we both had a good laugh about men - can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em - Ha. Ha. Ha. Then it happened... "Oh, this bin got turned over, here let me pick up it all up." NOOOOOO! There, in a sea of nail polish and makeup, was a box of expired c-o-n-d-o-m-s. Holy crap! I didn't even realize we still had those!! Why weren't those thrown away??? WHY??? (Because we're both apparently pack rats! That why!!) And here, my nice 65 year old church lady friend was scooping them out of the box. I tried desperately to stop it. I said we could just move on to the next box, but she wasn't having any of it.

As if that wasn't enough humiliation for one morning, what was underneath the bin of embarrassment just made it all worse. Lingerie. Husband packed lingerie in there too. OMG, kill me now. "Well this is pretty, where does it go?" Wide-eyed and shame faced, I manage to squeak out, "top drawer..." One piece after another after another. I sink lower and lower into my bed. Finally she pulls out the piece that just about kills me, a pink lacy garter belt with matching thong. "What is this?" Silence. "I mean, do you wear it on your top?" She holds it up to her own top as if trying to figure it out. She looks to me for answers. I can't take it anymore. My face is red. The giggling has started. Must. Pull. Self. Together. I finally get a grip on my last shred of dignity and with as straight a face as I can manage I tell her what it is. "Oh! Do they still make those?" Umm... "It's not actually functional, per se..." The woman looks amused. "Oh, I see... more of a Victoria's Secret kind of thing." *wink wink* If I could melt into a pool of water and disappear under my bed I would. She continues to unpack, only to pull out some black stockings, "Oh yay! These must go with the garter belt!" At that point all I could do was laugh. Luckily she's not "that kind" of church lady, in fact she's been known to crack a few naughty jokes here and there, but still... privacy! Hello?? Reminder, must kill Husband when he comes home.

Oh the joys of being on bed rest... Needless to say I think I will be forcing Husband to finish the unpacking this weekend before anymore debacles happen with unsuspecting church people.

Hungry Hungry Hippo

I am starving, ravenous, famished, insatiable... in short, I am hungry and nothing I have done has worked to ease that hunger. It must be a growth day for little baby blue. Every time I have these intense hunger pangs I imagine him all snuggled up inside my uterus, eyes closed, mouth slightly open (much like a baby bird), gently tugging on his umbilical cord saying, "Service please!" He's like a young debonair Cary Grant pulling the service cord to alert the servants he and his guests would like to be served. Except my little man is a bit more greedy than the beloved Cary Grant. Cary Grant shows a little self-control. He gently tugs on the rope once and waits patiently for the food to arrive. Once it arrives, he dines elegantly, never greedy and never making demands. Clearly, the little pee monster has a thing or two learn from such a great man.

Of course, as I wait for my son to learn about patience and subtlety, my rear end will continue to expand. Today I have eaten the following:

• Special K cereal (a big bowl)
• cottage cheese with pineapple (again, another big bowl)
• leftovers from dinner - orange beef stir fry with fried rice
• two pita pockets with hummus ( a lot of it!)
  

And I'm not done yet! Right now I'm considering my options for yet another snack. Will it be peanut butter and honey on a rice cake? Or maybe more cottage cheese? Or maybe both! Then of course there will be dinner, followed by a late snack. Seriously, who needs this much food?? I don't believe for a second that he's taking all the nutrients in. If he is, he's going to be a 20lb baby (God no!). Let's just say I won't be surprised if there's another 9lb weight gain at my next doctors appointment. :(

Oh well, at least there's always Cary Grant! He may not be able to fix my fat patooty, but he certainly is fun to watch (maybe with a bowl of chocolate ice cream). For the Cary Grant lovers - a favorite scene from Bringing Up Baby (also starring the beautiful Katherine Hepburn):



*side note: there are an awful lot of odd video montages on youtube dedicated to Cary Grant and his many kissing scenes. Weird.

The 3-Hour Glucose Test - Part III - Results!

The results are in...


I PASSED I PASSED I PASSED I PASSED!!!!!!!!

All of my numbers looked good, in fact I passed with flying colors. Now that's more like it! If I could jump up and down I would!

Bed rest party at my house!

Beads, Beads, Beads!

I've always loved shopping for beads. Much like organization stores, bead stored provide an endless amount of entertainment for me. All the possibilities. Pink beads, red beads, yellow beads, purple beads, rainbow beads. Beads that sparkle, beads that shine. Wooden beads, glass beads, ceramic beads. Beads galore! Over the years my stash of beads has grown. I now need a special container just to hold them all. It's glorious. Oh the plans I have! I always envision myself making beautiful pieces of jewelry like this:


My love for beads and desire to buy and store them is exactly where the glory ends. The few time I have actually completed a beading project, I have always been grossly disappointed. The "necklaces" always look like the work of a Kindergartner. A simple string of small beads in some sort of pathetic pattern to liven it up and that's it. The project ultimately ends up being tossed aside and never looked at again. This is why, when my mom asked if I wanted to go to a craft day at a friends house to learn to do beading I jumped at the chance to finally learn how to do something a little more complex than a simple string of beads. And, it's an activity I can do while staying seated! Yay! Something to do while on bed rest!

Since I am on modified bed rest my mom came and picked me up. Once we arrived we both tore open our new beading project boxes (a set of beads sold together to make specific projects- what a novel idea!). The actual tearing into the boxes took us both a while as the packages had been sealed so tightly that when you attempted to open it with any amount of force the tiny beads would go flying across the room. Finally we released our beds from their captors and began our respective projects. I chose a relatively simple necklace design that looks far more complicated than it actually is. About half way through the project my energy plummeted and my contractions started up again, but I was determined to finish. Finally after what felt like forever, I ended up with this:

Not too shabby! I think I'll actually wear this one. It may not be as fancy as the stuff I always imagined myself making, but it's a start. My mom also made two very pretty pairs of earring. I was impressed with both of our completed projects.

After quite the beading extravaganza I have since retired to my new-to-me reclining bed rest chair. (Thanks Mom and Dad!) It's oh so comfy and just what I needed after a long day of hardcore beading.

28 Week survey

How far along: 28 weeks exactly

Total weight gain/loss: +18lbs, at first I feeling pretty crappy about that but then I did the math, and if I did it correctly that only works out to 1.5 lbs per week. Not too shabby.

Maternity clothes: Yes, definitely. husband was successful in his quest for maternity tanks last week and I now live in them.

Stretch marks: Not yet. I have plenty for my growth spurt in my teen years, but nothing on the belly so far.

Sleep: the combination of trips to the bathroom, intense back pain, round ligament pain, and contractions doesn't make for a very restful night.

Best moment this week: It's a toss up between being told my fetal fibronectin test was negative and Husband taking me for a quick trip to Pizza My Heart and then sitting by the pool all day.

Movement: Yes, and lots of it. He's quite the little spaz.

Food cravings: Nope. None.

Gender: Boy

Labor Signs: Unfortunately, many contractions, all the freaking time. Thus, the bed rest.

Belly Button in or out: Still in. I wonder how long that will last?

What I miss: Ha! Where to start? Going to the store, oddly enough going to work, cleaning, seeing the light of day, just generally my freedom.

What I am looking forward to: My mom is coming for a visit tomorrow and we are apparently going to do some beading. Also she's bringing me a recliner! who doesn't love to recline?

Other Updates: None.

The 3-Hour Glucose Test - Part II

Friday morning I woke up at 7:00am with Husband and I was starving! So what did I do? Eat a big breakfast of eggs, sausage, hash browns and OJ? Nope. Not only would that breakfast probably lead me to an early grave, but food was not allowed on that particular morning. After pulling on my sweats and kissing Husband goodbye, I got ready for my 3-hour glucose test at the hospital lab. As I pulled together every piece of portable electronic entertainment devices I could find, the void in my stomach continued to grow. So far, the morning was not going well. Seeing as how I would not be allowed to eat for at least another three hours I had no choice but to suck it up, take my laptop, ipod, phone, books, magazines and warm socks, and make the short drive over to the lab for the second time.

Hour 1: I arrived at the lab and was thankfully taken right away. Before giving me the disgusting lemon-lime syrup to drink, they took my blood so they could have a baseline sample. Then they gave me the good stuff. This time they made me drink it in front of them, as if I were some sort of cheating liar who might run into the bathroom and dump it down the sink then return the empty bottle. Really, do people do this? If so, critical thinking must not be their strong suit. Of course, like a good girl, I complied and attempted to down the drink as quickly as possible. I got at least half the bottle down in the first big gulp. After a few more hearty chugs I was done. They gave me a timer and off I went to sit, sit, sit in the lobby. Not much to really talk about there. Games were played on the laptop and movies were watched on the ipod. This hour was probably the worst out of all of them. A slight woozy feeling, nausea, dizziness, etc. Finally the alarm sounded and back I went for the second blood draw.

Hour 2: As I was having my second blood draw done I noticed another pregnant woman standing in the hall. Everything about her screamed high maintenance. Heavy blond highlights, designer jeans, cute but casual top, ballet flats with big fake jewels on the toes and a Coach bag. She was adorable. Next to me in my grey sweats from 2000, my white tank top and flip flops, she looked like a superstar. The only thing that saved my outfit was my black hoodie with the words "Santorini Greece" printed on it with sparkly silver jewels, and that's not saying much. Seeing as how I was in the lab with nothing else to look at except for the "specimen" refrigerator in front of me, I chose to watch the cute pregnant lady attempt to down her 1-hour glucose drink. It is worth mentioning that the 1-hour drink is half the strength of of the 3-hour drink and honestly not that bad. I wouldn't request it at a restaurant or anything, but really not terrible.

Apparently the high maintenance woman disagreed with me. Watching her choke it down was a lot like what I imagine myself looking like when I had to choke down tuna casserole as a kid (sorry Mom). I would sit there hating every minute of it. For some reason I couldn't make the connection between swallowing and not having to taste the food anymore. So the food would just sit there in my mouth, I would begin to gag and choke, I would break out into a cold sweat and whimper like a sad puppy. You would think my own plight as a child would have given me some sympathy for this poor pregnant woman, but no I quite enjoyed the whole picture. I refrained from laughing and telling her to just suck it up, literally. Instead I sat, quietly amused and wondering if perhaps this was the way my parents felt watching me trying to choke down the tuna casserole. Probably.

Hour 3: The waiting room time during hour two was once again uneventful. High maintenance pregnant lady and I exchanged a few pleasantries - how far along, what are you having, wasn't that drink gross (she was unaware that there would be a 3-hour test if she failed, she looked scared), etc. etc.. Then we both plugged in to our own electronic devices and went about our business. By the time I went for my third blood draw, I was feeling better and although I was completely ravenous the nurse showed no sympathy. I suspect she was having a cranky day because despite my attempts to engage her in some lighthearted conversation I was completely rebuffed. Well excuse me for trying to make these three hours of torture a little less miserable! Geez!

After my third time of being stabbed I returned to lobby, excited about my eminent freedom. As I was pulling out my iPod (at that point my laptop had died and there was nowhere to plug it in) a woman with short cropped hair (it looked like someone took a weed whacker to it), no makeup and dressed in army fatigues marched in. No really, she marched. She marched straight over to the lab counter, slammed her lab order down, got her 1-hour drink and slammed that down too. It was amazing, no fuss, nothing. The drink was gone in what appeared to be one giant gulp. She sat down and did not look up until her hour was through. Fascinating.

Freedom: Finally my time had come. I had watched countless patients come and go and now it was my turn. I returned to the lab one more time. Upon my arrival another cranky nurse said, "Is she still here?" *scowl scowl* What the heck? Do I smell or something?? I showered I swear! Whatever, nothing could take away from the fact that I was going to leave and the cranky nurses all had to stay! They stabbed me again for a fourth and final time and I was off! I returned home, where I made the mistake of trying to hold a coherent conversation with my mom over the phone, only to realize that a pregnant lady running on nothing but a concentrated sugar drink is probably like talking to a normal person who has gone two days without food. We both gave up and after eating everything in the kitchen and then taking a two hour nap I was back to my achy, bed ridden pregnant self.

* A quick note: The results from this test should be available Monday. Also, my fetal fibronectin test was negative which means I should not go in to labor within the next two weeks. Yay!

The 3-Hour Glucose Test - Part I

Oh joy! Just found out the 3-hour test is even better than I thought. Not only will I have to drink the disgusting lime flavored syrup drink and then sit there for three hours, but apparently they will be taking blood when I first get there and then once every hour after that. Love it.

From a good friend of mine:

"They drew my blood before the test. Made me drink two bottles and then at the end of three hours drew it again to compare results. I couldn't eat or dink all morning or during the test. It made me super sick! But it was normal. Some women throw up. Keep it down or you have to do it again."

Another friend said she wasn't allowed to pee either. OMG, it just keeps getting better and better!

Ooooh! Needles, blood, sugar coma, vomiting, bladder spasms... how could it get any better?? If you could see me now I'd be rolling around on the floor laughing hysterically. Well not really, because I'm not allowed what with being on bed rest and all, but still, you get the idea. I can't wait until tomorrow morning. Stay tuned...

A Disappointing Test Result

Let me start by saying that everything is fine with the baby. I had a follow-up appointment with my OB today and the baby is looking great! Good strong hear rate (140-145), head down (good boy!), and just as active as ever. Also, my cervix hasn't had any changes since the last appointment which is great news and the doctor did another fetal fibronectin test just to make sure I won't deliver within the next two weeks. I'm still waiting on the result of that test.

That brings me to the disappointing test results. When it comes to tests/grades/scores I can be a little competitive. In school nothing thrilled me more than peaking over at a neighbor's returned test/paper/project and seeing that I did better. I know, I'm sick. If it makes you feel any better I always felt a little guilty about my joy.

So, you can imagine my disappointment when I went to my appointment today only to find out that I had failed a very important test. What?? How is that possible? The doctor basically assured me that I was going to ace it, and instead I failed? FAILED! I don't fail!!! WTF?!?! Luckily (or not so luckily) this test has a do-over policy. Unfortunately when you retake the test it's a little more intense.

What is this test you ask? It's a glucose test to make sure you don't have gestational diabetes. The first test involves drinking a sickeningly sweet drink and then sitting for an hour before having blood drawn. This is the test I failed. (WTF?!?!?!) Now I have to go back in asap, drink the same nasty drink and sit there again. Only this time it's not for an hour. Oh no, nothing easy like that. It's for three. Three freaking hours of my life sucked up at the hospital lab. Waiting. waiting. waiting. All I can say is I better pass this freaking test or else! >:(

Or else what? Or else I not only have an irritable uterus, I have gestational diabetes too. Crap.

A Day In The Life With My Irritated Ute

Let's talk about it, shall we? I know you want to hear all about it, so I thought I would share. The official term for it is an irritable uterus, although my doctor called it a hyper uterus. I'm not really sure which mental image I prefer. One conjures up the image of a brownish-red blob with angry eyebrows and a mean face and the other makes me picture the same blob with arms and legs bouncing around with this crazy grin on its face. Either way, both images are somewhat disturbing.

So what is this Irritable Uterus thing anyway? Good freaking question. For the most part no one really knows. It's not quite Braxton Hicks, but it's also not quite pre-term labor contractions. That really clears it up doesn't it? An excerpt from www.iritable-uterus.com (yes that's a real website!):

Irritable Uterus, in and of itself, may not cause a woman to deliver a premature baby. We, however, believe that an irritable uterus can and often DOES, in some mysterious way, trigger a woman’s uterus to start preterm labor, which can cause preterm birth.

Clearer? No? Yeah, me neither. All I know is I have contractions all day. Some are painful some aren't. Some last only a few seconds, some last more than a minute. When they are painful, I feel cramping first then slowly my stomach begins to harden. Sometimes it hardens starting at the bottom and moving up to the top and sometimes it starts at the top and moves down. They happen when I'm up and moving, when I'm sitting and when I'm lying down. They happen when I have to pee and when I don't and they happen when I'm hungry and when I'm not. Long story short. No rhyme or reason, just contractions galore. One thing's for sure, my uterus is very irritated, in fact I think it's down right angry. The question is, who/what made it so angry? I don't know, but you better be careful around me, because you might make it more angry.

Just to give you an idea, here's a day in the form of contraction counts from yesterday. Enjoy!

(woke up at 9:30- woo!)

9:59 am
10:06

(got distracted, stopped timing)

11:33
11:39
12:06 pm
12:11

(visitors)

1:55
2:08
2:16
2:28
2:43
2:50
3:05

(break)

4:36
4:43
4:57

(dinner)

7:37
8:01
8:11
8:20
8:27
8:33
8:46
8:52
8:56
9:05

At that point I was mentally and physically exhausted so I stopped timing them. Today has been better, only three contractions in the last 2 hours. I'm expecting they'll pick up later. We shall see what the doctor says tomorrow. Hopefully they are still just a product of my irritate ute and not actual pre-term labor!

Making A List

I probably won't be checking it twice though. As with most things/projects I plan, they usually only get about half way done, I think this might be hereditary. Just because I'm on bed rest doesn't mean my habits and overall personality are going to change, but it's worth a shot.

I've decided to start a list of things to do on bed rest, so that when I'm sitting around complaining to Mr. Chatner (that's our cat - pronounced Mr. Shatner) about how I have nothing to do, I will have some sort of proof that I am in fact lying to myself and to poor Mr. Chatner.

So here it is, The Grand Bed Rest List:

1. Start any of the three knitting projects I have planned (baby sweater, baby hat, and socks for me).
2. Read any/all of the baby/labor/delivery/breastfeeding books on my shelves.
3. Subscribe to netflix and rent movies, movies, movies!
4. Read all the Jane Austen novels
5. Send Husband to the library for new books to read (feel free to make suggestions in the comments section - I'm out of ideas when it comes to good books).
6. Order baby items online (I'm looking at some super cute wall decals on etsy).
7. Play and master World of Warcraft
8. Go get my prenatal massage - not sure if this will be ok, must check with OB
9. And... I'm out of ideas. Crap! Feel free to make suggestions. Hopefully I will feel more creative later and will add to the list on my own.

As you can see my list is pretty sad. 3 out of 8 of my items involve reading, so really that's just cheating and I only have 6 items. If you think that list was sad though, let's check out Husband's list of things for me to do:

1. File for State Disability Insurance - fun...
2. Figure out our investments and how to diversify - Party!
   
3. Do the filing - OMG it can't get any more exciting than that!!
4. Read old Russian literature - zzzzz
   
5. Study Calvinism - ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

I'm thinking I may be giving birth to a little weirdo in three months. A World of Warcraft playing, Civil War reenacting, worry wart, book worm. Welcome to the world my little man!

A Survey of Sorts

How far along: 27 weeks exactly

Total weight gain/loss: ummm... +16lbs according to the doctor. I had a massive 9lb weight gain between 20 and 24 weeks, but since then I haven't gained anything.

Maternity clothes: Yes, definitely. I am sending the husband off to buy me more maternity tanks since they have now become a staple in my bed rest wardrobe. I have confidence that with clear enough instructions he can do it!

Stretch marks: Not yet.

Sleep: See "Adventures in Sleeping" post below. Today I actually slept in until 9:22, woohoo! Yesterday I was excited about sleeping until 8:30.

Best moment this week: Making it to today. Yay for 27 weeks, which according to many online sources is the beginning of the 3rd trimester. Some say it's 28 weeks but I'm going with 27.

Movement: Yes, and lots of it. He has very distinct movements too. He does a rolling move where it feels like he's turning his entire body over. Then there are the quick karate chops, very jerky and usually comes in two's or three's - chop chop! There are also the hiccups, which are very rhythmical taps. And then there's my favorite, the crazy flailing all over, kind of like he's doing some sort of dance. I imagine it looks something like Elaine's dance on Seinfeld only much faster (I actually strongly dislike that show, but that particular episode was funny). Finally, he has a more slow and steady movement, like he's just adjusting to get comfy.

Food cravings: Usually I don't have them, but this week I did desperately want a bowl of chili and an ice cold glass of lemonade. I didn't get it.

Gender: Boy

Labor Signs: Unfortunately, many contractions, all the freaking time. Thus, the bed rest.

Belly Button in or out: Still in. I wonder how long that will last.

What I miss: Ha! Where to start? Going to the store, oddly enough going to work, cleaning, seeing the light of day, just generally my freedom.

What I am looking forward to: 28 weeks. :)

Other Updates: None really. All is well in bed rest land. I'm still having a lot of contractions, but since they haven't changed it looks like the bed rest might be doing the trick. As long as Baby B is safe and sound that's all that matters.

For your viewing pleasure, Elaine dancing on Seinfeld.

I NEED these!

"Window" shopping online has lead me to several new discoveries. I will be needing the following:

Baby converse hightops
Robeez shoes


Pretty much everything for newborn boys at Gymboree, specifically this line of clothing:
http://www.gymboree.com/shop/dept_category.jsp?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306235585&bmUID=1271458653027

and this ridiculously preppy outfit

Bed Rest...

sucks! Just putting it out there. In case there was any confusion about whether or not this is fun. It's not. I get that once the baby comes I will not have any time to myself, but really there might be such a thing as too much time to yourself. When you can't even load the dishwasher without getting contractions, it's not relaxing and fun, it's scary and generally crappy all around. The couch is beginning to have a distinct pregnant lady size dent in it, my legs are sore from sitting all the time, our house has boxes in it that still need to be unpacked, t.v. is beyond boring, my books aren't entertaining me, whahhhhh!!!!

It doesn't help that ridiculous pregnancy hormones lurk around every dark corner. Today I've cried three times and it's not even lunch yet. The first time was while watching A Baby Story, the mom-to-be had lost her first baby and was now preparing for the birth of their second daughter. Why, oh why did I watch?! It was not pretty; tears streaming down my face, tissues littered across the coffee table, and one very concerned cat. No kitty, I'm not dying, I'm just insane.

The second round of tears happened about an hour after the first. A lovely woman from church had offered to come by with lunch and hang out for a bit with her beautiful little girl. Under normal circumstances this visit probably would have made me a bit nervous, as I tend to be somewhat anti-social and I don't know her very well. However, I was actually pretty excited about this visit. Sadly, she called to say that the little boy they had had a play date with yesterday was sick and she didn't want to risk getting me sick too. It was very thoughtful and I completely understood. In fact I appreciate her not wanting to infect me. I hate colds! Bed rest and a cold sounds a bit like my own personal version of Hell. So I was sitting there after the conversation appreciating her thoughtfulness when the tears started again. No lunch, no visitors, another day with nothing to do! Whaaaahhhhhh!!!! Seriously kitty, it's ok, I'm crazy and eventually it will pass. Right?

Then finally, because I didn't learn my lesson, I watched another episode of A Baby Story. *sigh* This time the cat just looked at me and walked away. He learned his lesson apparently. So here I am, almost lunch time with no plans for lunch and having a little pity party for myself. On the plus side I actually slept past 6:30 today. Woohoo!

And, because it makes me a little happy and I seem to be on a Beach Boys kick, here is a tune that always brings joy to my heart:



This video includes both John Stamos and Tom Cruise (pre-jumping the couch). Kind of makes me want to watch Cocktail again.

Adventures in Sleeping

Pretty much since I peed on a stick last November, sleeping has ceased to be an activity that is enjoyable for me. Once upon a time I was an awesome sleeper. In fact, while some children, who will remain nameless, were forcing their eyes to stay open for as long as they possibly could, I was asking to be put to bed. What an odd child I was. In high school getting up before 10:00am was painful. No really, it hurt.

This champion sleeping continued well into my twenties and only within the last few years have I considered "sleeping in" to be anything past 9:00am. So you can imagine how sad I was when my talent was somehow stolen from me by something the size of a blueberry. Seriously, I eat blueberries for breakfast (not really, I actually don't like them very much) and here was one taking over my body?? What the heck!?

That darling little blueberry continued to grow and grow, making its presence all the more known in my life, both waking and sleeping. I went from 0-1 trips to the bathroom a night to 4-7. My body billow became grossly insufficient and was replaced by a Snoogle - a massive C-shaped pillow that now dominates our king size bed. And to top it all off, somehow as I slept less and less, my wonderful husband, who has a history of insomnia, suddenly started sleeping more. Hmmm, weird, no?

Last night was unfortunately all too similar to the previous sleepless nights. Every night I climb into my "nest" which consists of the Snoogle, a full length body pillow, a king size pillow and a regular pillow (don't ask me where they all go, it's far too complicated). Once situated, I pull up the five layers of covers and at this point I hopefully begin to drift off to sleep. This initial process is usually interrupted by the need to blow my nose or to get up to pee. Fortunately last night I was pretty tired so I fell asleep relatively quickly. Yay!

Sadly it was not meant to last.

1:00am - desperate need to pee, strongly suspect pee monster is gnawing on my bladder, try without success to ignore it.

1:15am - realize that resistance is futile, begin process of getting out of bed

1. roll over to left side if not already there - this in itself can be quite difficult considering the massive lump of a baby on my abdomen.
2. wait for irritable uterus to become less irritated (walking with a full bladder + contractions = not fun)
   
3. disentangle self from pillow nest
4. peel back any covers that have not been tossed onto husband during bought of night sweats
5. swing legs over the side of the bed
6. push upper body up with arms - using ab muscles is a thing of the past
7. stumble to bathroom as baby bounces on full bladder

Last night something unusual happened. Somehow the process got held up at step 5. I successfully completed steps 1-5 at approximately 1:20am.

1:40 - wake up to intense bladder pain, a 2lb baby pressing on the Vena Cava and legs dangling over side of bed

My thought process went something like this: Huh? What? What's going on? How did I get here? Didn't I get up to go pee? Did I come back and fall asleep this way? Ow, my bladder hurts. Ow! My back hurts too. *whimper whimper* Why am I on my back? Holy crap! I never got out of bed! I still need to pee! UGH!!!!!!

You would think that after that I would have at least slept well. Nope. Not so. With two more trips to the bathroom (see steps 1-7), the clicking/rattling noise from the heater vent, and general pregnancy pain, sleep was just not meant to be. Once the husband left for work I officially gave up and have now returned to my throne (the couch) for the day. To lift my spirits I will leave you with a favorite youtube video of mine



Seriously! John Stamos in ripped jeans singing about his undying love for me... um, I mean for someone, and little chubby naked babies... I don't think it gets better than that! Plus that bed he's in looks super cozy, like I could sleep for twelve hours straight.

Some thoughts and a word of warning.

As I was lying in bed this morning, not sleeping, it occurred to me that I might be using a few words/phrases in this blog that could potentially make my more sensitive readers feel a tad squeamish. So I am now putting out a warning: If for any reason any of the following words make you feel uncomfortable you may want to reevaluate whether or not this blog is for you.

• pee
• cervix
• uterus
• cramps
• contractions
• anything to do with labor and delivery - these words/phrases can become quite graphic, for example "mucus plug," do not google this if you are eating or have just eaten
  

Is everyone ok so far? I know, very racy words, right? In case you are wondering how I might use some of these words, I have included a few contextual examples below.

• We have nicknamed our little one the "Pee Monster." How did such a sweet term of endearment arise? Is it because he is bound to be a little pee pot like the baby in this commercial:

Although we are aware our little monster will doubtlessly put on a few spectacular shows of his own, this is not actually the origin of his pet name. (Side note: check out this fabulously ridiculous product aptly named the Pee-pee Teepee). From early on in the pregnancy I found myself making several trip a day to the bathroom. Most pregnancy sites you look at suggest this feeling of urgency (another pee related word!) will subside some time after the first trimester.

Lies! The not so pleasant sensation of needing to pee every ten minutes has only been compounded by the fact that the little one is now strong enough to bounce on/kick/punch my bladder (oops another slightly taboo word, oh my!). Thus, we have dubbed our sweet little boy, the Pee Monster. I imagine he looks something like this:

• One more example before we part. As I previously stated, this morning I was lying in bed not sleeping. Anyone who knows me knows that I enjoy my sleep. So, why would I be awake at the ungodly hour of 6:30? Well, after one of my many trips to the bathroom, our little monster decided he would try to escape by punching his way through my cervix. Good times. (note: this word may also be used in the more medical sense, i.e., "I went to the doctor today and my cervix was [insert medical terminology for status of cervix]."
  

With that mental image, I leave you with one final thought. While I suspect that most people will be strong enough to withstand words like "pee" and "cervix" I figured it might warrant a small warning as I know there are people out there who turn green from the word "moist." It takes all kinds.

Let the bed rest begin!

With 95 days to go until the official due date of our little Baby Blue/Pee Monster/Little Man, I have been officially been put on bed rest. Woohoo! Party!

As a quick recap of the last few days I will cut and paste my updates from Facebook, because although I have a seemingly endless amount of time ahead of me with nothing to do, that does not make me any less lazy. So here we go:


April 8, 2010

I'm resting at home after 4 hours at labor and delivery. I was having contractions every 2-3 minutes and am 50% effaced. The baby is fine and hopefully the contractions will stay under control with my medication.

After a second trip to labor and deliver last night the contractions seem to be under control. It looks like bed rest may be in my future.

April 10, 2010

Back from round three at the hospital after a terrible, no-good reaction to my medication. Still contracting some, but the baby looks good and is safe and sound.

April 13, 2010

It's official, I'm on modified bed rest. No work, only very light activity with the majority of my time spent resting. It's going to be a loooong 14 weeks. So, who wants to entertain me?

That pretty much brings us up to date. If you could see a picture of me now it would be... well, not very pretty. Somewhat disheveled, sprawled out on the couch with a big fluffy pink electric blanket and one large fat cat sleeping at my feet (which are incidentally covered in pink fuzzy socks, notice a theme?) If I continue to sit here in this blue tank top and maternity sweats for much longer I strongly suspect that not only will my darling husband gently suggest I take a shower, but I may begin to develop bed sores and my brain might actually begin to ooze out of my ears. Because, let's face it, there's only so much Dr. Phil a person can take. What will hopefully follow in the coming weeks will be my quest to find adventures in my own living room, to fully enjoy being pregnant with a beautiful baby boy and to not go completely crazy. Enjoy!