BADA-BING! BABY-BOOM!

Starting around 2pm yesterday, I began drinking.  Heavily.

Two glasses of grape juice, two 20oz bottles of water and some random coconut water.  I was trying to fill my bladder so that the view of the Spitfire would be clearer.

Based on the positioning of the uterus and baby, some women need not torture themselves for an ultra sound.  I am not one of them.

So, having filled my proverbial tank, I parked (for the first time!) in Expectant Mother Parking at the hospital and (as smoothly as possible) walked to my appointment.

My Observations
1.  Ultra sound gel is gross.  It's like having a large man sneeze on your belly.  Over and over.
2.  The pressure exerted on a full bladder for prolonged measurements and viewing must rank up there with water boarding or skin removal with a carrot peeler.
3.  If you are having a spitfire, your measurements will take considerably longer than most because the baby will NOT stay still enough.  This baby was NOT having any of that shit.  It refused to give a profile look - instead looking angrily into the source of the pressure.  Smart.  And scary.
4.  When you are finally allowed to evacuate your bladder, you can't because you've been holding it back so long that your muscles are frozen with a mixture of fear and loathing.  Right.

Everything is where it should be.  The gender is known.  You get to know.  Eventually.
Did I mention the gender reveal party this Sunday (the 2nd) at 4pm?  I didn't?
Now you know.  Bring a dish and your own booze.  It'll be fun.  But, only if you RSVP.
. . . trust me.  It's not really baby-centric.  I just want an excuse to get together - eat, drink and jaw-jack.

OH WHAT A FEELING. . . WHAT FEELING?

Into the 20th week, I have arrived.  And, I'm still hoping for a regular reminder that there is something in what appears to be a large sack of heavy air in my belly.  A couple times this past weekend, I was able to put a little pressure on certain places and feel something move.  One moment in particular, I felt something push back against my fingers.  Does gas do that?  How about a stubborn turd?  No?

I have also noted in the past week or so that the swell in my loins (really??) tends to move about.  For about four days last week, the swell leaned to the right.  Then, Saturday night, I noted that it had shifted and was leaning to the left.  Some of my well informed already-parent friends informed me that it could be a butt.  It was comforting.  Kind of.

This afternoon, the Hub and I are driving to the OB.  Again.  This time, we will be meeting with the Ultrasound folks and watching on an over-sized screen as they measure, photo and predict our Spitfire's future. 

Yes.  If it is doable, we will be finding out what we are having.  I'm personally hoping for a puppy.  Maggie needs a playmate.

Seriously.  Look a her face.  She's lonely.  She needs a cohort to help her chew up plastic water bottles that have been stuffed into giraffe puppets.  Yeah.

Sunday the 2nd at 4pm will play host to a very laid-back gender reveal party.  It is really just an elaborate excuse for people to potluck and drink.  I'm pretty sure we didn't did an excuse for that in the past.  Perhaps this Spitfire really is changing us!

DRANK LIST

At almost the half-way point, I can tell you that the thing I miss most of all is not cold-cut sandwiches, not whitewater rafting and most certainly not seafood.  I miss THE DRINK.

How many of you have a long day at work and come home to immediately crack open a beautifully ice cold can of beer?  How about celebrations?  A nice glass of wine or champagne?  Or dessert?  A warming miniature glass of Port?

These past five months (Yeah.  That's 20 weeks, people.  We'll talk about how Pregnancy is really 10 months at some point.) I have been dry.  Drier than the campus of Bringham Young University.  DRIER THAN A MUMMY'S MOUTH.  DRIER THAN . . . WHATEVER IS REALLY DRY.

I haven't been dry this long since. . prior to March 26, 1999.  Yeah. 

In honor of my 5 month dryness and subsequent sobriety, I give you the DRANK LIST.  A wonderfully comprised group of the first drinks I will have upon releasing my uterine hold on this new life. . . (These are in no specific order)

1.  Bud Select.  In a Can.  Cold.  I want to crack it open myself.

2.  Jameson.  Chilled.  I would go "straight outta the bottle" but I fear that my toothbrush gag-reflexes might reject it.  I have to ease my way back into this life.

3.  Port.  After an enormous steak dinner with all of the accoutrement, I want a 20 year Port.  Seriously.  You want it, too.

4.  Mojito.  I mean a real mojito.  Not some mix crap you get from the grocery.  I want Luis from San Juan to fly in and muddle my mint.  I want to feel the buzz begin when I inhale over the glass.

5.  Dessert Wine.  I have two VERY GOOD Moscatos in my collection.  They are both begging to be opened and served with a glazed fruit tart.

6.  Bailey's on ice.  Seriously.  I drank a large bottle one night last winter and had the best cry of my life.  Sweet soul release!

. . . I am sure I will think of more.  For now, I'll leave you with a challenge:

DRINK THESE FOR ME!

COUNTING

How many children do you have?  Do you plan to have more?  Why?

No, really.  WHY?

When told that I only plan to have this child, I get some pretty specific responses.  The most popular of which is:  "But, you have to have more than one.  Your child needs a brother or sister."

Tell me, How do they know that??  Is my child going to need a transplant that will only come with the existence of a sibling?  If my child doesn't get a brother, will it be a bully?  If my child doesn't get a sister, will it be a socio-pathic rapist?

I am sure these friends are not telling me that I should replenish the Earth with my kind.  But, what in the world is wrong with just one?

I don't think that "only" children are lacking in any other way than having an actual sibling.  Believe me when I say that this child will be socialized.  There is no way it won't be.  There are plenty of friends with children and even a cousin or two to help out.  I firmly believe that a child learns what you are willing to teach.  If you don't take the time to teach them to share, the child will NOT share.  If you don't take the time to explore and exemplify compassion, the child will NOT have any.

If you think that I will spoil my child, you have another thing coming.  Just because I can doesn't mean that I will.  I heard "no" as a child.  I was aware when there were financial constraints.  Eventually, I was even privy to the decision making process.  This was developmentally important for my parents to give me.  I will not spoil my child.

In my life, my friends are my family.  I have sisters and brothers and more sisters and brothers.  I see no reason that my child needs to have things differently.  Keep in mind that I do have a younger brother.

Barring the extremes, I think that the Hub and I will be perfectly capable and successful in raising a congenial only child.  I'm not just for Zero Population Growth.  I like to negatively affect the growth.  And, I don't want 18 kids I cannot afford to raise well.  Note that I said "well" - not "comfortably" 

But, am I missing something?  Perhaps I haven't thought this all of the way through?

SHARP LIKE A KNIFE

I'm not stupid.  Neither are you.  But everyone else most definitely is.

In honor of our not-to-be-found stupidity, I have created a list of T-Shirt designs that I must create for myself.

1.  NAH.  I'M JUST FAT.

2.  DON'T TOUCH MY BELLY.  REALLY.
     Also available in the "Wish Creed Motif":  I WISH YOU *WOULD* TOUCH MY BELLY.
     Or, the minimalist design which features a crossed-out hand outline and the words:  I WILL CUT YOU.

3.  FIRST ONE WHO SMELLED IT - DEALT IT.

4.  MOO.

5.  WHERE'S THE BATHROOM?
     Available in several languages!

6.  A FACEHUGGER GOT ME.

In only have 20 more weeks to enjoy my own snark before I have to put a limit on it for child safety. . .

BREATHING THROUGH THE PAIN

This morning, I got up when the dog was running circles on the bed - as per usual - trying to wake-up the Hub.  Usually, I sleep through this knowing that I have another hour to luxuriate in my nest of pillows and memory foam.  Today, however, I was on a mission.

In the past three days, the Gestational Carpal Tunnel has gotten worse.  In the mornings, it is PAINFUL to hold my toothbrush.  I can't seem to extend my fingers past the Quasimodo position. . .

So, rather than sacrifice my usually beautiful dental devices, I visited my friendly, albeit quirky Ortho Guy.

The Carpal Tunnel Syndrome in my right hand (also my dominant hand) is so much worse than my left that the doctor commented that I have near zero strength.  I suppose this helps explain the difficulties gripping lately.  He prescribed some exercises and two GIANT SHOTS OF CORTISONE.

Yes.  One in each wrist.  Holy Moly, Roly Poly.  I don't know if you have ever had Cortisone shots (anywhere) but they HURT!  I'll be honest here.  My eyes misted up.  It feels like dying, stabbing, burning.  BREATHE, SUPID!!!  OMGWTFBBQ!?!??!!?  But, it's worth it.  Really.  Like the baby.  Cortisone shots make the bad stuff go away - whether it be hives, inflammation, hurtiness. .

After the doctor and his assistant finished, I was left with two DOT band-aids (one on each wrist) and a small risk of infection.  Yes.  I look like the victim of the world's tiniest suicide attempt.  Times two.

I am happy, however, to say that there is only slight numbness left in my right fingertips.  The pain seems to have melted away. . through the pain.  I can almost make a fist again.  Almost.  I hope this lasts the 2 to 3 months as expected.  I can't see doing this every month.

A IS FOR ANSWERS

After a long day at work, I met the Hub at our 18 week OB appointment.  As mentioned on Friday, I had a boatload of questions that desperately needed answers. . . we'll get to that in a moment.

Right now, I need to make a statement for the betterment of public safety.  Today, this second Monday in August turned out to be "take your whole fucking family to the OB GYN" day.  Upon arrival, I found my Hub surrounded in the waiting area by seeming hoards of people.  There were even a couple MMs (Moron Mothers) who parked their brats in front of the doors.  Seriously.  Leave your family at home.  Or, set them in the hallway until you get your name called.  The chairs are for the actual clients - not their entire extended family.  Remember, I'm not above opening the door a little too fast, people.  You have been warned.
Okay.  Back to the answers. . .

1.  Inversion positions in yoga, handstands and inversion tables are acceptable.  Thankfully, back pain has not been my main complaint as of late.

2.  Chances are one of the reasons I am waking up is because I am on my back.  No worries.  Better news?  I am allowed a WHOLE Unisom for insomnia.  Sweet sleepy pills of joy!  I'm on it.

3.  There isn't a whole lot to be done for the round ligament pain.  But, it was gently suggested that I stop moving so fast. . . Right.

4.  The bad news was concentrated.  I have gestational carpal tunnel syndrome.  This accounts for the swelling, the pins and needles, the numbness, the pain and the ARRGH! I feel in the morning.  I have a referral to "a hand guy" who happens to be an ortho guy who specializes in hands.  My Doc thinks that since I am already having such a shitty time, I am going to get worse.  I think we all see the Cortisone shots in my future.  I'll gladly suffer the burning Hell that is Cortisone if it will do away with my hurty hands.

So. . . as per usual, I got to pee in a cup and write my name on said cup with my own Sharpie.  (It cuts down on user germs.)  Then, there was the life-affirming Doppler check.  The Spitfire's heart rate is around 155.  Good stuff.

I'll get back to my typical complaining later.  Check!

PENDING

Monday will bring about the 18 week check-in.  It will consist of the same treatment I received the previous several times:  First I'll pee in a cup and deposit it into what looks like a secret wall safe.  Then, I'll be dopplered to make sure that everyone is still alive in there.  Finally, we'll have a Q&A session for any of those ridiculous things I come up with between sessions.

This week, I am coming armed with a list of questions - not unlike the very first appointment.  I hope to bring all of the glorious answers back in a nice, neat report.

1.  Are inverted yoga positions okay?  How about doing handstands or using an inversion table?  Sometimes, I just feel the need to stretch myself out, momentarily, like a cat before and after a nap.  I feel like my lacking in the upside-down department has caused serious droopages.

2.  Holy 80 year old woman syndrome!  When I wake up, my hands feel like they have been cramped all night - gripping my pillow a little too tightly (Enter Sandman, Wha?)  If I try too early in the day, I can't even grip a pen without feeling hurty.  Popping my knuckles seems to alleviate some of the pain but it just turns it down to a dull roar throughout the day.  What can I do?  Continue to ice my hands when they feel like little blood sausages?  Is this doing damage?

3.  Sleeping is horrendous.  And, don't give me some shit about "your body is preparing you for the lack of sleep you will get when the baby arrives"  It is a popular line of thinking but I think that whomever thought up that shit is a sadist.  My list of safe medications says that I can take 1/2 a pill of Unisom for morning sickness.  So, my intent is to take 1/2 a pill of Unisom for its real purpose.  Is this okay?  How often can I do this?

4.  I can't sleep on my back worth a shit.  I saw once that sharks will go into some kind of peristalsis if flipped onto their backs.  Maybe I share more than just my predatory nature with them.  The Snoogle makes me feel really crowded right now, so I have decided to shelve it until I need more body support.  In the meantime, I suppose I will keep waking up every few hours to find that I am slowly killing my baby by sleeping on my back?  What are my other options?  Sleeping upright with pillows?  At what angle is safe?

5.  Round ligament pain makes me want to stab myself in my abdomen with some shears and snip the ligament in half.  Anyone?  So, what are some other things I can do to help with this?

6.  Last night, I woke up sleeping on my right side.  Everything was alright.  I'm pretty sure I didn't even need to pee - which is a miracle in and of itself.  BUT. . my left hand was asleep and totally hurty.  Some of the crazies online suggest that this is because I was laying on my liver and major circulatory business.  Others think it is because of where the baby is pressing against my spinal column.  I'm not sure I believe either entirely.  If I am sleeping on my right side, why is my LEFT hand going all crazy?  Right.

Early next week, I should have some answers.

NOT A GUMBY GIRL

Recently, I have started to experience some discomfort.  It feels like there is a string that runs from my pubic bone to behind my bellybutton.  And, some asshole is plucking it like a sad, loud acoustic version of Comfortably Numb.  And, OH!, how I wish I was.

That little bastard in the red circle is what is causing all of the horror.  It's just another part of this process that doesn't get talked about enough.  THIS SHIT HURTS.

So, what is there to do about it?

Some suggest resting when the pain is felt.  Other suggest "flexing your knees towards your abdomen to get some relief". . . Umm, doesn't that found like the fetal position?  What if I'm already there?

Is there any stretching that will help lengthen this ligament?  I feel like that would be the proactive way to help myself.

Anyone?

MOOOOO.

Contrary to popular belief, being 100% Korean does in fact have a few draw-backs.  I know.  But, some of us can't drink alcohol.  My brother's ears and puff up and his face turns bright red after a few sips of a Captain and Coke.  More of us, however, are Lactose Intolerant.  Think about it.  Other than Yak milk, just how many dairy cows are there in Asia?  (This is not based on any fact.  Only funny.  So, yuk it up, punk.)

Knowing that the monster in my belly needs Calcium, I have kicked my intake into high gear.  Despite the gassy effects, I have been eating Broccoli by the barrel.  I am a huge Soy fan, so that has been easy.  But, imagine - to my surprise, I have been craving dairy.

Dairy products are foods and drinks comprised of the baby food produced by and meant for another SPECIES, people.  Consuming them is like feeding your breast milk to your cat.  Or, worse, feeding cheese made from your breast milk to your dog to assist with its daily allergy medications.  Yuck!

Regardless, I have been craving them.  Being Lactose Intolerant is not helpful.  Today, I ate a 1/4 of a block of Colby.  It was delicious and went well with my fiber select crackers. 

And now, I have heartburn.  And I feel like someone cut me open and put a small boulder in my stomach before sewing me back up. 

I think I'll stick to my special yogurts and flatulence producing veggies.  Moo.

REVIEW:  Dairy products.  Heartburn.  Boulder.

GOING ON A BEAR HUNT

The Hub and I went out today.  We had a mission.  A fact finding mission.

Despite having what seem like 800 friends with some 17,000 children who can offer advice, we wanted to find the products and answers that fit our lifestyle and our needs.

First off.  This shit is expensive.  Looking at all of the crap that people buy for their kids, I found myself saying aloud that there were plenty of items that our child would be doing without.  Cheap?  No.  I'm practical.  No two month old needs 180 different kinds of baby toys.  No yearling child needs that much shit.  Yearling.  Because my baby is going to be a horse.

Speaking of cost, I am just hoping that all of the baby gifts the Hub and I have purchased through the years are going to pay off.  Seriously.  We bought crazy baby supplies for friends when we were young and didn't have the scratch.  I think we should be rewarded for waiting until our people could afford such ridiculousness.  Right.

We have narrowed the new furniture down to a few items.  There's the convertible crib (crib-toddler-full size bed), 

the dresser/changing table combo



and the bassinet.  They are simple and classic.  The bassinet will only be used for a few months - and really, only because it will be easier to step across my own bedroom for those middle of the night feedings.  I hope I can sell that bad boy soon after.  Knowing that we will be moving into a bigger home in a couple years, we can use the crib converted to a full size bed for a guest room if the kid doesn't want it.  Pragmatic.

Baby car seats are crazy.  You have the first drop in carrier (which with the extra base will run you around $250) that lasts maybe a year. 

Then, you move up to a convertible seat that will run you 2 to 3 times the cost of the infant seat - but will last you several years.  I think we found the ones we are interested in. . . primarily because the infant seat is highly rated in safety and satisfaction but also because. . .

. . . it is one of the brands that can be dropped into the BOB strollers.  These things are redonkulous but impressive at the same time. 

The $450 average price brings you some serious perks for something you will get a few years use from.  (I think there is a young age at which a kid should be expected to walk.  Please ask me about the 5 year old I saw stuffed into a stroller at the Missouri Botanical Gardens)  That being said, you have a seriously tight turning radius, plenty of available and included accessories and a really cushy ride.

Other shit that is going to leave your family and friends - AND YOUR - bank accounts empty?

Breast Pumps.  Really?  $300?  Yeah.  This is something you shouldn't get cheap on.  These things get attached to your NIPPLES.  A LOT.  Keep that in mind when you think about buying the cheap ones.  Or, worse - the manual one.  Cows don't milk themselves and neither should you.

High Chairs.  It seems like the smaller the area that it takes up - the more moolah is necessary.  I'm contemplating strapping a contraption to a dining room chair and calling it a day.  I think it's unfair that I have to pay a gillion dollars for another THING that get used for a very finite amount of time - all the while taking up room in the corner of my dining room.  Boo!

We still have a bit of research to do as I think we have only touched the tip of the iceberg.  Some of these items can be found on Amazon for cheaper than their list price at the other places.  However, with the right coupons, they are nearly the same.

When we finally get around to registering, I'll post an extensive list.  (Not really.  We don't plan to be filling our home with baby.)
Big THANK YOU to the folks at Buy Buy Baby who are informed and very friendly.

SLEEP UPDATE

So, the Snoogle arrived on Wednesday, in a box that must have been a challenge for the packers.  Freed from the plastic wrap, the Snoogle leaped into shape.  A big C.  (I know there's a wildly inappropriate joke in there somewhere.)

The Hub and I have a queen sized bed.  We both know that due to my obnoxious sleeping maneuvers, we will likely adopt a king sized bed when we eventually move into a bigger home.  For now, he has his 1/3 and I have the rest.

When I put the Snoogle on the bed, I noted that if not careful, it would take up the whole bed.  I think we already have a 14 pound Miniature Schnauzer that does that particular job.

Anyway. . . Wednesday night, I tried it out.  I slipped one curved end over my right shoulder and under my head.  The other curved end, I ran between my knees.  This left the long part to fit snug against my back.

Here are a few things I noted:

1.  Yes.  It keeps me from rolling over onto my back.  (Did you know that if you are sufficiently stuffy with hormones, you can indeed snore while sleeping on your side?  I'm still in denial.)

2.  When I woke up a few times during the night, I found that my right arm was asleep.  And throbbing.  This is not the way I like to wake up.  But, for now, it is better than waking up because my bladder is about to explode onto the duvet.

3.  If you really try. . . and I mean, put some serious gut-busting effort into moving, you can, in fact, roll up and over the edge of the Snoogle to some glorious back-sleeping comfort.  Of course, then you feel guilty and settle back into the nest you have purchased for yourself.

I have used the Snoogle two nights now.  I dislike sleeping on my side, so I have to remind myself that it's not the Snoogle's fault.  It does make comfy the horrible new sleeping position.  Even if it's just for a little while.

The Verdict?:  Yes.  Go get one.  If for no other purpose than to make awesome nestling caverns for your puppy.