Thursday, March 28, 2013

The Down Low with a Fetus

We went to a movie yesterday. This isn't something we usually do, but we wanted to see this particular movie on the big screen in 3D (it was The Great and Powerful OZ, by the way, and we both liked it a lot - suck on that Rolling Stone movie critic). Also, we've sort of been planning to see more movies before the baby comes, since most of our preferred past times are too physically draining/difficult for me to participate in. **Cue sad music**

Well, it turns out that I will not be seeing many movies on the big screen before the baby comes. In fact, I think I might take a pass all together. Why you ask? Because the sound in the movie theater is just too much. And the baby hates it.

I could tell there were going to be problems from the beginning "Don't Forget Your Popcorn and Turn Off Your Damn Cell Phone" mini-movie. By the time we got through the previews, I was starting to get concerned. The bass, you know, the kind you can feel just as much as you can hear?, would bellow and the baby would start kicking the shit out of me. Seriously, I literally jumped and squeaked on more than one occasion (sorry fellow movie goers).

The movie, though very good, was difficult to sit through and by the time it was over, I literally went to the bathroom and inspected my belly, expecting to find bruises. Spoiler: there were no bruises...that are visible; they are probably on the inside. Then I started worrying about how I traumatized the poor baby. Later that night, I started to worry that the baby had maybe enjoyed the loud, low vibrations, since he was STILL kicking me. Maybe those sounds had jump started a career in breakdancing - it certainly felt like he was practicing his soon-to-be-signature windmill move. For hours. Non-stop.

Either way, I am not going to risk going to another movie during the third trimester. I don't think I have the physical fortitude.


He's allowed to do this once he's out. And we have wrapped the sharp edges of the furniture in styrofoam. Until then, I'm not doing anything to encourage it.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Making a Baby: Week 27 and 28

I'm not going to apologize for cramming 2 weeks into a single post because I did it intentionally. I really didn't have enough to say about Week 27.

Week 27: Baby continues to grow as evinced by ginormous belly. Also, heartburn. The end.

Week 28: Baby is a movin' and a shakin'. Strangers not only ask me when I'm due but pull alarmed faces when they realize how much further I have to go. (Note to self: Eye lasers not yet effective in exploding strangers heads - need to work on that.) I suddenly feel very heavy and my belly bumps into everything. Also, heartburn.

You may not be able to tell from these pictures, but I am carrying all out in I am told by every woman who has ever had a baby. There's just no where else for him to go. On the bright side, most of my pregnancy weight is in my belly and bra, so not too much growth through the hips, ass, face, arms, etc. Notice I said too much and not no, that's an important distinction. My friend went on and on a few days ago about how you can't even tell I'm pregnant from behind. I'll take it. At this point, I'll take anything that remotely makes it sound like I'm not completely humongous.

On that note, I'm completely humongous. And I'm short. For the first time in my life, I am jealous of tall women with their lengthy torsos and places to tuck a baby away. I can simultaneously be pummeled in the bladder while having my lungs kicked. Also, the heartburn.

Pregnancy has made me realize so many things about myself. For instance, I am so small that I have to lean across the sink to reach a faucet. This is something I am now conscious of because my belly hits the counter and my fingers aren't quite able to touch the chrome handle unless I get on tiptoes and stretch. Also, apparently I used to hop up to grab things off shelves. You'll see I said used to. Now I call my husband and watch him grin as he hands me a cereal bowl. My pregnancy seems to be doing wonders for his masculine self-image.

But, all the complaints aside, we're getting there. I still enjoy feeling the baby move, and I'm getting very excited about his arrival. I'm organizing ALL THE THINGS, and working on the nursery in earnest. Now, without further delay, pictures of the a-MAZE-ing expanding belly:

Week 27
Week 28

P.S. You guys, there's an actual, for really real little tiny human in there!

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

My Baby

I've heard that you can tell a baby's personality in the womb. Here's what he's shown us so far:

He's strong. He made his presence known early and with vigor. Even with an anterior placenta, you could easily identify his place in the world.

He's stubborn. He knows what he wants. If he wants to lay in a particular position, then that is where he is staying. He defends it, pushing back, refusing to be moved or impinged upon. He defends his space, forcing his tiny body against the bed, R, anything that is applying pressure to him.

He's active. Oh my, is he active! Sometimes it's a pain, literally, as he pushes, and stretches, and jabs me with those spiky little elbows. But it is also endearingly sweet. The other night, in the wee hours of the morning, I lay listening to the slow steady breathing of my husband, and smiled as I felt our baby performing tiny bicycle kicks inside me. I lay my hand gently over him, able to feel his tiny leg, his little heels, as he circled those developing limbs round and round, round and round.

He likes his daddy's voice. When R talks to my belly, our baby will immediately calm, listening. Sometimes he'll even fall asleep (which can be such a relief!). R treasures this connection. I treasure the sweetness of the act, the speaking, the listening.

I can't wait for this little guy to join us in the world. I sometimes get a pang, an emotion I can't identify, when I think of what it must be like to come into the world. A world you know nothing about, did not even suspect was there. I worry for him, yet I can't wait to welcome him home.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Making a Baby: Weeks 25 and 26

Like Week 24, Week 25 was filled with horrendous heartburn. The kind that requires the ingestion of Tums and makes me afraid to sip water when I wake up at night because it leads to a flood of acid pushing its way up my esophagus.
Also, the baby managed to get some serious leverage one day and was intently pushing out. It was a bit like this:
Uncomfortable, to say the least.

I'm happy to report that Week 26 was a vast improvement. Heartburn was minimal. There was less bladder bouncing than usual, which allowed me to better appreciate all those tiny kicks. 

I absolutely LOVE watching him move. Sometimes you can see him shift from one position to another, a bulge that moves slowly across my belly. Other times the kicks cause my skin to tweak and bounce. Amazing. There's an actual little human in there, squirming and getting comfortable. 

Alright, onto the obligatory belly pictures:
Week 25

Week 26

Both of these pictures were taken first thing in the morning, straight from the shower, no makeup, hair product, or dignity. I just wanted to get the damn picture over with and change out of my stupid picture pants into, well, yoga pants. It was Sunday. Don't judge me.

Way more interesting pictures: the paintings I did for the nursery.
R has named him Finneus.

Before anyone gets all crazy, let me say that my art studio is well ventilated and I used low VOC interior wall paint. Plus, I didn't lick my paint brush once. Pinky swear.

Notice that in the cardinal painting, the aspen leaves match the wall color exactly. For those of you who are not Sherlock Holmes, that's because it is the same paint. Also, the white and blue match the nursery ceiling where I painted a sky. I'd show you a picture, but it refuses to be photogenic, so you'll just have to trust me. 

I'm very pleased with how these turned out. Once we get out dresser/changing table (Yes, we finally found one on craigslist. We are supposed to pick it up tonight!), I'll sew the nursery curtains and we'll be set. Probably. Unless we get crazy about something else. You never know, our nesting has really started to kick in. Over the weekend we rearranged our bedroom and the family room and some of the front room. Because babies obviously care about furniture arrangement.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Diapers. That's right. Diapers.

FYI I'm talking about cloth diapers.

I just order what I think will be the last of the diaper stash until the little guy makes an appearance. I know I haven't talked about it a lot, but trust me when I say I've obsessed a bit over the diapers. I've researched, I've compared, I've asked friends, I've read endless (and often contradictory) diaper reviews.

We started buying diapers early, as in 1st trimester early, because it was completely practical to spread the cost over the pregnancy. We (And yes, I mean we. R is totally on board and interested in cloth diapers and thinks they are adorable...admittedly not as interested as I am, but that's probably a good thing.) decided to try a few different types of diapers and a few different brands. We also agreed to a bit of risk and ordered some from Etsy - for the record, the ones from Etsy seem on par to the brand name diapers but I was pretty selective; also, I haven't used them yet.

So today I made the last diaper purchase and it makes me a bit sad. I've still got 3 months to go and no more diapers to buy. How am I going to spend my free time? I guess I'll just go pull out all the diapers and stare at them wistfully, trying to imagine our new baby boy swaddled in poop catching adorableness.

Oh, for those of you who care, birthing class was great. Two couples have already been voted off of friendship island, leaving only 7 couples to fight for the right to be our friends. Also, no one made me say what hopes I had for my birth...I had to write it out in a questionnaire. At least that gave me the ability to choose my wording carefully and not blurt things like "I just don't want scissors near my vag or a scalpel at my belly!" Instead, I said I would like to avoid surgical intervention if at all possible. Doesn't that sound more acceptable?