Five things.

Five things about my pregnancy that I could do without:

5.  Not being able to sleep on my stomach anymore.  I’m still not really showing…but doc says that once you hit 20 weeks no more stomach sleeping.  I’ve been trying this for 2 weeks now and it’s not getting a whole lot easier.  This makes me sad. 

4.  Foods and drinks to avoid.  There have been a few nights when my husband poured himself a glass of wine and I looked at that wine and thought…that would be a great way to unwind.  Or when I really want something carbonated and sweet…but not super sugary and not fake sugary either. 

3.  No Ultimate Frisbee this summer at camp.  I work at a camp for two weeks each summer that advertises itself as a music camp, but really is a closet Ultimate camp.  2 hours every afternoon, grinding it out on a turf field, loving the chance to play with others who can actually throw and catch a disc.  This summer?  Me, on the sidelines, wishing I had a force field superpower that would make the whole phrase “contact sport” go away.

2.  People wondering when I’m going to “pop.”  I’m doing as many things right as I can regarding appetite and such, but this baby wants to hide out and not make it obvious to the world that he exists.  So I continue to be able to wear much of my normal wardrobe to work and around the house, and I love it!  But the comments continue and are becoming more frequent.  “You sure don’t LOOK like you’re pregnant.”  “You must have a really petite baby.”  Or…they forget that I’m pregnant all together and ask me to carry heavy boxes over long distances.  Hmmm.  Gotta refresh on the whole saying no thing.

1.  The touching of the stomach.  As you’ve already heard, my stomach doesn’t exist in colossal display yet, but people still insist on patting it, rubbing it, or just putting their hand there and starting a conversation while their hand stays there.  For a very few people in my life, this is acceptable, but those very few people already have enough common sense to ask ahead of time.  Seriously—if it’s inappropriate to touch somebody’s stomach any other time in their life this should not give you permission to start lovin’ on my abdomen.  Please and thanks.  J

Five things about my pregnancy that are indescribably incredible:

5.  Not having morning sickness.  I can’t believe it!  My mom, aunt, grandma, and basically everybody on my maternal side of the family were all incredibly sick for at least 3 solid months.  I had one day…which was more like an afternoon, where I thought that maybe, just maybe, I’d throw up.  And I didn’t.  I ate normal food for the most part and smells haven’t bothered me in the least.  And now I’m over the first trimester hump and everything still looks great!  I am one lucky girl.

4.  The generosity of friends and family.  This baby is in his fifth month and I have an entire wardrobe of super-cute maternity clothes.  We also have stacks of baby clothes, a bassinet, diaper genie, and more things on the way because people couldn’t resist sharing with us.  Their spirits of giving are such an inspiration and encouragement to our little family.  We are touched by their love!

3.  Technology.  I love technology, always and forever.  The ability to hear this little guy’s heartbeat so early on and consistently at each appointment never ceases to amaze (and relieve) me.  And the way our lab technician took us on a tour of our baby’s developing body at the sonogram floored me and my husband, who is not easily impressed with machinery (unless it’s an iPhone).   We could see the heart, the kidneys, the bones, the head, the feet and hands, basically everything.  That’s a PERSON down there!

2.  Strengthening of a marriage.  I have it good ladies and gentlemen.  I have it real good.  I knew I had it good when I got married.  I knew I had it good two years and three years into our marriage.  Well, let me tell ya…I have it GOOD.  My husband is a rock of consistency, wisdom, and generosity.  When I am tired, he will sit down and talk with me, if that’s what I need, or I may drift off for a brief power nap and awake to find the dishes washed in the kitchen.  He is always willing to go out late at night for a hamburger, if that’s what we so desire.  (I’m pretty sure that’s not a huge sacrifice on his part.)  His excitement at baby’s development and growth and desire to be a part of it all impresses me daily.  I have it GOOD.

1.  Speaking of baby’s development and growth…this kid is turning into a soccer player.  Squirms have turned into solid kicks that have gotten strong enough that I can see my shirt flutter and VWH can feel them too.  (Don’t let this be added fuel for you all to want to touch my stomach…ask first.)  There’s something down there!  And it’s alive and letting his mama know that he’s down there.  And when we went to music camp last week for a visit and spent a half-hour singing glorious praises, he let us know that he either enjoyed it most thoroughly or found it a bit too noisy.  Thump-a-thump-a-thump!  I prefer to think he’s going to be a musical genius. 

This journey has been occasionally overwhelming, yes.  But the joys and perspective it brings to my life easily outweigh any inconveniences or worries.  (Thump-a-thump.)  I plan on soaking in the next few months when, even though I might not be able to sleep on my stomach, I can sleep through the night.  I hope to soak in this time with just me and baby, before he comes to visit all of these loved ones who are so eager to meet him.  And I praise our Creator for entrusting me to carry this little life and take care of him…a responsibility not for the faint of heart methinks. 

Q & A

Q:  What do you do when you aren’t allowed to sleep on your stomach anymore?

A:  Get your hands on a beanbag chair.

Q:  What happens if your brother-in-law’s wedding caterer fails to show up on two separate occasions for pre-wedding planning and the wedding is 8 days away?

A:  Buy cookies from Wegmans and forget about a fancy dinner.

Q:  How was your birthday?

A:  Amazing family and food.  And an iPod touch.  (iPod touch=Angry Birds)

Q:  What do you do when you have to buy a dress in June 5 months pregnant for a different wedding in December when you will have been pregnant-free for 6 weeks?

A:  Don’t eat the cookies at the first wedding reception.

Q:  What fills the time at work when there’s nothing to do?

A:  Blogging.  (And thinking about cookies.)

Q:  Why haven’t you blogged in weeks?

A:  ...Angry Birds???  (Hey—they don’t know my birthday was only 6 days ago…)

Q:  Just exactly how bored are you right now?

A:  Exactly?  Well, if you take the inverse polynomial of 2.148 to the 14^th power and divide that by the quadratic equation, you’ll spend exactly as much time figuring out the answer as I’ve had free time on my hands today.

Q:  What are you thinking about right now?

A:  The baby is currently kicking hard enough that I can feel it on the outside.  That is not boring.  (And more entertaining than Angry Birds and cookies combined.)

I started writing an email and then it turned into a blog...

Pestering you once more with your daily update!  (Emphasis on daily...I'm on a roll!) First off, it is completely and totally perfect outside.  Mid-70s, gentle breeze, sunshine.  And I am stuck in this office.  This morning was torture.  I have just returned from lunch, where I wolfed down something and got outside with VWH for a long walk.  It was GLO-RI-OUS.  If I had my way I would be on a blanket in the backyard with a good book this afternoon.  As it stands, I'm still at work, but the walk helped restore some of my pent up energy and frustration.  Everything made me smile--the smell of cut grass, old people waving hello, bees looking for flowers (there still aren't very many), and the wind messing my hair up.  For a half-hour, I was invincible. Yesterday we had our weekly friend over for dinner (pancakes, bacon, and eggs...we're trying to use up our food so we don't have to pack it).  It was lovely to connect with her once more.  She is officially transferring to another college next fall and I will miss her presence dearly.  So we'll soak her in the next week or so before she leaves for the summer.  Then I had a rehearsal with a delinquent trumpet player...why do these kids think they can start rehearsing a week before their recital when they haven't practiced on their own and assume everything will work out?  It just doesn't and then our titles change from "accompanist" to "hand-holding, guiding you step by step through each measure, praying that you figure it out enough that we don't have to save you every other phrase, babysitter." It's supposed to rain later in the afternoon, so I don't expect to be able to return to the great outdoors after work wraps up.  My plan tonight is to go shopping, grab some cleaning supplies, and tackle the upstairs of the house.  VWH has commitments all night so I don't expect to see him until late (which really just means tomorrow).  This means I can blast whatever guilty pleasure music I desire (something very unclassical with a backbeat and guitars...) and dance around, sing at the top of my lungs, and make some PROGRESS.  Our bathroom is absolutely disgusting.  Knowing that we were moving soon made me put off giving it a good scrubbing until I knew we were leaving.  Well, the time is now and it's going to be fun.  VWH has made me promise not to do any spray cleaners/anything too chemical-ly.  So I'll be sticking to the basics and wearing rubber gloves.  Baby is going to get his/her first lesson in the joys of cleaning.  I fully expect to fall into bed completely exhausted, yet completely satisfied.

And now I must leave you for now.  There are a few small things to accomplish this afternoon before I head out for my evening of fun.  That walk was was 3 hours ago now, but I still feel great.  As a friend of mine once said, "15 minutes of sunshine a day keeps the schizophrenia away!"  I think there is some truth to that.

Too big? Too small? I just wanna be just right!

As mentioned below, VWH and I are in quite a few weddings this year.  We are thrilled for each of our brothers as they marry and settle down to what we consider to be quite a wonderful time of life.  And while the tux rentals and dress purchases are definitely outweighing our entire clothing budget for the year, they are investments we are happy to make.  Plus, we don’t anticipate four family weddings in the span of 12 months really ever to happen again in our lifetime.  No, the stress hasn’t been financial.  It’s been much more related to “how do I buy a dress for (fill-in-the-month) when I have no idea what I’ll look like then?”

Wedding number one is in 3 weeks and I ordered the dress before I even knew about the baby.  So when it arrived I prayed it wouldn’t be too small.  I don’t know what happened, but miraculously, it was too big.  So I think I’m OK for May.  Only adjustment needed is to think flats over heels for shoe-wear.

Wedding #2 is in July.  This is the tough one, especially since the bride found the dress online and we weren’t able to try it on ahead of time.  Thankfully, she chose something inexpensive enough that I opted to order two different sizes of the same dress to avoid catastrophe.  I’m still uneasy about the fit and how it’s all going to work out, but hopefully I’ve covered (literally) my rear.  It arrived in the mail yesterday and I’ll get it tomorrow, so I’m about to get some answers.

Wedding #3 is in December.  Baby will have arrived by that point, but of course I need to buy the dress well before then.  So…how close to my old form will I be 7 weeks after having my first child?  Your guess is as good as mine.  I’m hoping I don’t gain zillions of pounds and am being fastidious about eating a balanced, nutritious diet…most of the time.

I’m starting to get the sense that bridal store employees, who, correct me if I’m wrong, deal with this kind of thing ALL THE TIME, look at me and sigh heavy sighs when I enter their premises.  I can’t help it and I’m not trying to make their lives more difficult.  Honestly and truly.  I mean, I’m probably making them MORE MONEY with alterations and such.  But I still feel like the one they’re going to vote off the island next.

All of that to say, it’s been an adventure.  One I hope to never have to go through again.  But one that will be well worth it.

Heartbeats, lentils, and cowboys.

Yeah for two entries in a row (not counting the weekend/time off from work for Easter)!  OK, so it’s been like half a week, but that’s still a big improvement compared to the space between the last two entries.

So, first off.  Update from last week.  We went to see Invasive Woman.  VWH made a bold attempt to stay in the waiting room when I was called back but we made him come.  (As the PA said, “It’s his kid too, right?”)  This turned out to be a good move as Invasive Woman was posing as her normal street name, Dr. OBGYN.  Nothing scary or nightmarish.  And we heard the most beautiful little rhythmic, swishy sound emerging from somewhere around my bladder.  I’m going to take a stab and say it wasn’t lunch or alien invasion.  Hearing that steady sound independent from ME as a person…it was crazy in a totally speechless kind of way.  VWH listened to the tempo of the beat as the doctor declared it “perfect” and explained how it will decrease slowly over the next months.  (Or as VWH said, “We’ve gotta get it down from prestissimo to the Ravel Piano Concerto.”)  It was pretty incredible.  I can’t wait to hear it again—something to look forward to.

I guess that since Baby’s presence was officially overheard he decided to play some tricks on his mommy (when Baby is mischievous he’s a boy).  A day or so later I experienced that wondrous experience common to most moms-to-be, but has somehow dodged me.  I call it, “I don’t know what that smell is but I might ralph all over you if I smell it any more-itis.”  The offending odor?  Lentil soup, which is one of VWH’s most favorite foods.  I thought it would be good to make, being chock full of healthy veggies and lentils.  Well, after it banished me out of the house, I decided I may never look a lentil in the eye ever again.  Still, I will gladly take one isolated experience of Pukeitis over the daily routine my mom and her mom lived through with their kids.

I have much to be thankful for.  Yesterday was Easter Sunday, which meant my life was committed to several church services, but they were beautiful services.  Lots of flowers and little girls in beautiful dresses and joyful singing and “Khristós Anésti! Alithós Anésti!” and really good food.  There’s something so incredibly happy about Easter that can’t be matched by any other holiday.  This is, of course, largely due to the incredible hope we have been given as a result of the events of Easter morn so many years ago.  But I think it’s also partly because we go to church and celebrate with our church family AS WELL as our relatives.  The joy is spread all through your community.  Woe to the cynic who avoids it. 

In reality TV news, Jet and Cord were eliminated last night on The Amazing Race.  I am devastated in that I’ve-thought-about it-once-or-twice-today kind of way.  VWH was indifferent, per usual.  At least those cowboys can be satisfied with the fact that they lost because all the other teams ganged up on them.  They were perceived as a threat, which they were.  Still, the show has lost one of its funniest, sweetest, and most inspiring teams.  It won’t be the same from this point through the end of the season.  No more awesome cowboy/Coplandey theme when they come around the bend!  New pick to win it all (even though it’s too late to win the coveted Starbucks gift card): Zev and Justin.  Next team to be eliminated: Kent and Vyxsin.  (I’ve been picking them since week 1 to go home though…I think it’s more a wish than a real analytical decision.  Kent’s obnoxious.)

New things!

Dear Blog,

I have been a bum.  Seriously and truly.  Over a month since my last post.  <hangs head in shame>  This is not remaining true to my resolution.  I hereby resolve to do better.  Because it’s not fair to you, sweet faithful blog--you never hide from me or disappear for weeks at a time.  You deserve better than this.

The truth is, there has been a lot going on.  Some of which I didn’t feel I could share with you right away.  But now I can.  You see…I’m really hoping I’m not “Too Old,” because there is going to be an increase in our family.  And I couldn’t tell anyone for the LONGEST time, but it was consuming the vast majority of my thoughts.  So I couldn’t write, because I had nothing else to write about.  But now our news is known by most, and I want you to know too faithful friend.  There are many new topics to explore whilst passing the time at work waiting for 5PM to roll around.

Like what kind of puppy chow is best?  Or should we get the collar with the rhinestones or just a rich, royal blue?

Just kidding.  It’s a little more serious (and permanent) than that.  We’ve decided to skip right over Marley and Me and head straight for the big leagues.

Today I can leave earlier than 5PM, which is why I started this entry early.  Tomorrow is Good Friday so we get some extra time to “vacate” for the holiday weekend.  (Which for musicians means, “Organize truckloads of music, figure out which church you’re supposed to be at where, wake up on Easter Sunday before the birds, and hope the choir doesn’t consume too many mimosas between services.”)  I am taking advantage of the extra time today to head over to my new friend, Dr. OBGYN (I prefer to refer to her as her superhero name, “Invasive Woman”).  Today she gets to stick this wand on my stomach, move it around, and those weird alien noises you hear in movies will magically emerge from me.  And supposedly we will hear a sound that we haven’t heard there before.  A fast, steady fluttering of a tiny heart that is inexplicably tiny and hidden.  The first real sign that there is something in there that is alive and real (other than a few random bouts of insomnia, occasional unsettled stomach, and a slight tightening of my pants…all of which could be chalked up to too much chicken wing dip). 

I am making VWH go with me this time.  VWH is of the mindset that Ricky Ricardo had it right: waiting rooms are GREAT for fathers-to-be.  He would far prefer to bury his nose in Chesterton than enter Invasive Woman’s territory (I can’t say I blame him there).  Oh, when the baby actually arrives he will be the first one in line to play with it and give it lots of love.  But the idea of being in a delivery room is approximately equivalent in his mind to handing a poisonous snake.  I say it’s good for him and an educational experience…one that I shouldn’t have to experience alone.  After all—he had a pretty hefty contribution in bringing this whole thing about.  You get what you paid for.

So I will leave you today, faithful blog, with this exciting news.  Topics for future discussion include:

1.        The joys of buying three bridesmaid dresses for three different weddings this year, with me anticipating being a different size for each.

2.       Moving to our new abode (this happens in about a week) and adjusting to life without a dishwasher.

3.        Why do department stores apparently need to save their most hideous clothes and brand them as “maternity?”

Overheard from a substitute teacher...

Student: “I can imitate any animal!  Ask me for any animal sound!”

Teacher: “How about a giraffe in space”

Student: “I can combine breeds too!  Ask me about any two dogs!”

Teacher: “A poodle and a lab mix in space.”

Student: “Why do you love space so much?”

Teacher: “There are no children there.”

“I  ran out of things to do with my 2^nd grade class so I taught them Ubbi Dubbi (Turkey Talk).  They thought it was the coolest thing ever and managed to acquire a rough working knowledge of it before the end of the day.  Now it’s spread throughout the school and I get dirty looks from various staff members when I show up to sub.  Also, it somehow has turned from Ubbi Dubbi into Hobby Wobby.”

Teacher to me via text message: “Quick!  What’s x3y2z9/x5y2z3? 

Me: “Umm.  54xyz/30xyz.  Or 9/5.

Teacher to me: “No!  The numbers were exponents!  Help—I’m in class and I have no clue what to do!”

Me: <Puts head down on desk and laughs.>

 “I once subbed for a fifth grade English class.  Their assignment was to work quietly writing a paragraph about some topic…I don’t remember what it was about.  Anyway, kids these days all have hand-held spell checkers.  The class worked relatively quietly, with the only noise being the computerized, monotone voice of their spell checkers pronouncing words.  “Coun-ty…”  “Cha-rac-ter…”  “Boob…”  “Boob.”  “Boob.  Boob.  Boob. Boob.  Boob…”  Needless to say, the class was gone for the rest of the period.