Biscuit, you're impeached from my belly

Or something.

Clay's dad found me this bad ass t-shirt (of an ass who... was bad) at a yardsale and before my swim today I wrapped up the biscuit in it.

This flattering elevator photo's for you, Steve.

As ya'll can see, she's still cooking. Definitely dropped down, but still snug as a bug and no big changes.

I'm having moments of false labor, where I'll get cramping and squeezing and excited for a half hour or so, but then...all goes quiet again. I've got a feeling this is my destiny for a few more days.

It's okay, though. I'm enjoying parading my big belly around the pool, having lots of last minute lunches and dinners with friends, and daydreaming about our little lady.

I've spent a lot of this pregnancy nervous about the immediate postpartum period (the fatigue, the risk of anxiety and depression, the newness of it all), but it's weird - the closer her birthday gets, the more confident I'm feeling. I know there are bumpy roads ahead, and I know we'll have moments of AH!, but I guess I'm just not scared anymore. It feels good.

Bumpdate: 38 weeks, 2 days

Yes, I'm in my underwear. No, I don't mind.

Hopefully you don't either?

Or Clay?

I think biscuit bubba might be a little lower today. She's definitely pushing some...things out of my body.

I should have titled this post: Getting Too Intimate With Amy.

We'll leave it at that, good people of the world. But hopefully a sign that things are hap-happening!

And now, a bath for my aching back. (Pray I don't eat the bath salts, my new pica obsession.)

Whew.

I was grumpy yesterday.

But I woke up this morning determined to shake it off.

So far, so good.

Snuggled the hubs for a good bit this morning. Took a swim and hot tub at the Y*. Ate a hot fudge sundae for lunch. Bum is now on my fort/couch, ready to queue up my Netflix queue.

Trying not to wish away this quiet, pre-baby time too much. I can't wait to meet her, but...it will happen soon enough. It's still fun to feel her poking out my guts, to see Clay give her a "hug" with his hand, palming her like a basketball.

And it will never again be so easy to get her down for a nap.

*Oh, those poor, feeble, good-intentioned Y lifeguards! I like to hop in the hot tub for a quick soak before we head out and it freaks their s&%t OUT. "Ma'am! It's not recommended that you sit in there! Ma'am!" I smile and say "I'm fine" and watch them scramble and fret and die. Ah, the power.

Crab apple juice

Punch punch kick punch kick.

I want to be alone in a dark room with fancy cable and a Snickers.

Punch punch kick.

And a foot massage.

Head butt!

And my own barista.

Karate chop!

And skinny jeans that fit.

Membrane sweep!

Ready

My due date's still two weeks away, but I'm finally feeling like it's really time to meet our little treat.

I've checked off all (or rather...all that I can think of) the things-to-do boxes (with lots of help), so our nest is feeling clean and cozy and cute. (Oh, bum! I owe you pics! I'll get on that. Swear.) I've got the pediatrician lined up, the car seat locked and loaded, the nursing bras en route. The tiny sweaters washed in Dreft, the bassinet sheet tucked in, diapers and burp cloths in teetering stacks. Papa Bear's landing tonight for good, we're officially into the Aquarius birthday zone (yes, I was holding out for my own astrological sign what of it), and Mom and I have been chatting labor tactics.

All that's left is...Little Miss Biscuit Bum! (That's TM'd.)

I know it sounds ridiculous, but with all the prep and the labor worries and the postpartum planning, sometimes I forget we're actually getting a B-A-B-Y out of all this. Like, a tiny pink blossom baby with fluttery eyelashes and miniature toenails and soft, buttery skin. A little bundle we get to stare at and smooch on and...keep! Bananas. Smushed up, good on cereal, amazing with peanut butter, bananas.

So.

That's all to say.

Come on out, little lady! We're ready.

The latest

Doobie doobie doo.

I've still got a biscuit inside.

She's rising and buttery and delicious.

But she's still cooking.

There have been hill walks and swims and tea parties and pizza dinners and crib setting upping and tiny clothes washing and name withholding (we're going strong, buddy!) and more hill walking. I would love to sit on the couch and stare at my 70's medical dramas on Netflix Instant, but I've gots to move this baby O-U-T, so I try to keep active (with gentle prodding from Clay and not-so-gentle prodding from Mom) for a good chunk of everyday.

I still feel basically good - except for lying down (ow!) and typing (puffy hands!) - and for that, I want to say THANK YOU, trusty body/baby vehicle. No varicose veins or stopped-up intestines or raging hormones. I just feel like me...with an enormous basketball leading the way.

My next biscuit check is Wednesday where I hope to have made some progress. And where my OB is going to - gulp - sweep my membranes. If you don't know what that means, I'll keep you innocent. If you do, then...pray for me.

Clay left this morning and will be back tomorrow - when he'll be back for good and done with traveling! Huzzah! Unless this baby pops out tonight (unlikely), daddy-o will be here without a crazy "WE LEFT KEVIN!" airport scramble. Phew and yay!

And that, dear friends, is the update! Time for brekky and then cleaning the kitchen floor and then yoga at the Y. A real soap opera around here. A real soap opera.

Bumpdate: 37 weeks, 2 days

My belly now looks like this:

  Which makes my mood look like this:

Harumph!

Docta docta

Yesterday, I had my "interview" with the baby docta. I didn't bring a clipboard with lists of questions or anything, just had a few important ones tucked away to ask after he gave his spiel. Since my mom's in town, I brought her along, which was good; it's always nice to have someone else check out the scene and let you know if you're insane. (Like in LA, when she helped me hunt for apartments and kept me from saying yes to...terrifying places with pitbulls and pee-stained carpets and no kitchens.)

I'm definitely sold on the practice and relieved I won't have to do any last minute scrambling. But seriously, folks, the guy is a crack up - a walking personification of California. He's babyfaced - all shiny blue eyes and sparkly teeth ching! - and talks like a Beach Boy. He's got boards (snow or surf, I'm too tired to remember) hanging on his office wall and he's all "dude" and "totally" and "cool" while we're talking Hepatitis B vaccinations.

After the appointment, he asked if we'd had lunch, before walking us across the street and demanding we try these "fantastic" sandwiches while he ordered a latte and chatted with the counter peeps who were all "Noah dude!" Definitely not the guy who'll be making you feel awkward for suggesting anything alternative with the baby or who'll act a conservative control freak. Good things for this little hippie skip.

Plus, he really knows about sandwiches.

The mom dot com

Is landing in three hours! Yes! Someone to do all my cleaning hang with me during the day!

She'll be kickin' it with us in Cali through February, lending an experienced hand so we can start to adjust to being newbie parents. And maybe even take a shower! (Or apply dry shampoo.)

Hopefully biscuit baby arrives sooner rather than later so there aren't too many hours logged of Clay, Mom, and me shooting meaningful, get-out-of-there stares at my belly. Not that that wouldn't be a blast!

Anyone who hung out with me

And my besty pals Stephanie and Shalah between the years 1995-1997 will have been treated to this tune. We were obsessed.

And as the winter rains have finally found San Francisco, it only seems appropriate.



Rip off the roof and stay in bed!

Sharing

***Sappiness Disclaimer: As D-day approaches, I might start getting a little emo up in hurr. Lo siento!***

I've mentioned oh, four or five million times, how much our little butter ball moves. I know I moan a lot, but it is genuinely uncomfortable to have, simultaneously, two feet plowing into your right ribs, a (very cute) bum plowing into your left, and a head repeatedly pounding into your cervix. Over and over and over again.

Clay likes to rest his arm on my belly while we watch content and say,

What is she doing in there?

I can only shake my head and shrug wearily.

But the thing is, I'm really going to miss it. I'm going to miss her bundled up inside of me, safe from the crazy world, from grabby hands and sneezing grumps and pokey needles and all those unsavory "shoulds" people like to throw around. Right now, the biscuit and I are a two-person team. We share secrets, have quiet talks, and try to lull each other to sleep. We mesh without trying and I wonder how I'll deal when she's not all mine.

But then, Clay will whisper his own secret to my belly or pull my hand away when he thinks I'm being too rough with her ("she's a real person now!!") or I think of how homey his neck smells or how much he makes me giggle or how he calms me down like no one else can. And I picture them walking down the street holding hands - eating ice cream and talking about the Cowboys...or maybe princesses - and I know it's time and I'm ready to share.

Da registry

Okay, okay, okay. I'll stop being socially awkward for...two minutes. Max.

A handful of you lovely people have bugged me about this and I keep avoiding it and writing other things hoping you'll forget. But then, because you're all so sweet, you don't. And the cycle continues.

So!

Baby registry.

We do, in fact, have a registry. But we've kept it really small (you'll probably remember this post) and, through very generous generosity, have received most items on it already. I know I could add on more and plump it up with things-I'll-need-in-the-future, but...we just don't have the space.

So!

If you would like to send our baby biscuit a little treat, first of all - no pressure! Second of all, thank you! Third of all, here are a few easy (I'm hoping) ideas:

1) BOOKS. We're big time readers in this house, but so far have...one book (thanks, Trev!) for our future writer/editor/media mogul. Oops! We love all those yummy classics and/or anything that's your favorite!

2) Homemade stuff/Etsy stuff. Can't get enough of it!

3) If you've already had an idea, then by all means roll with it! I'm sure it's perfect.

Did that help? Did I make it more awkward? Can we just drink some cocoa together?

Phew.

And also. I just want to say thank you to all ya'll for following along with us on this crazy little adventure: rooting us on, telling me I look un-scary every Friday, and wishing our buttery biscuit well. It's really meant the world to me. Heart stamp.

Bumpdate: 36 weeks, 2 days

At this point, I don't think there's much new to be said about my gut.

It's large, in charge, and something-something a barge.

Lately, when I talk to people (read: strangers) they boom: "ANY DAY NOW, AY?" Although not always so Canadian. And then I disappoint them - there are heavy sighs - by saying I'm still a few weeks away from my due date. Like, they want this baby born rightthen, as I'm ordering my chai and hiking up my pants.

I've got zero idea when this biscuit is making her arrival, but I'm still putting my bet on making it to February. She hasn't dropped yet and while I'm getting a few more Braxton Hicks contractions here and there, she seems pretty cozy in the tum.

Plus, I really (really) want her daddyo here for the labor/birth without an airport rush involved - and all of that will be completely avoided if we can cruise to February. So! While I know all those January people out there with secret (or not-so-secret) wishes that she come on their birthday mean well, I'mma gonna go ahead and say - don't do it, biscuit!

And c'mon. Isn't it obvious that she's an Aquarius like her mama? Cue Hair soundtrack.

I cannot stop

1) Sniffing tea tree oil. It's been my Pine Sol replacement - something that smelled really strong and quenched the pica cravings, but was natural and organic. I did a ton of reading about it and it's actually recommended that you sniff it to clear out sinuses and infections, because it's a natural anti-fungal/anti-whatever agent.

But I was getting too much happiness from it, I think. Granted, I didn't sit there and sniff for hours. And I never feel any actual effects (like an actual "high") from the sniffing (other than PURE JOY FROM THE SMELL). I would allow myself a few 2-second sniffs from the tiny bottle throughout the day. But when I realized I was doing it on the sly from Clay and...the world? It was probably time to say bye bye.

Down the trash chute it went at 2 AM. I'm missing it desperately.

2) Running into things with my belly. I even have a bruise, in the perfect shape of my bathroom's door frame, to prove it. The thing just keeps getting bigger and bigger and I just can't adjust my body awareness that quickly. Twice in the past week I've parked too close to another car and gotten stuck trying to get back in after shopping. Like, almost-had-to-call-for-help stuck. Then I finally broke free and climbed in the passenger side door. Which could be another whole post in itself.

3) I don't really have a three, but things should always come in threes. Right, Clay? So. Hi! Occupy yourself for a bit while I think of something.

*pulls up gigantic maternity jeans*
*loads the dishwasher*
*takes out ice*
*inhales the whole tray*

Oh right! Ice.

Up next? Mom jeans

Tonight, while driving in circles around Russian Hill looking for a parking space, Bette Midler's perfect-for-fifth-grade-choral-concerts 'From a Distance' came on the radio. And you know what, people? I cried. Like a baby.

I'm not proud.

Important

(from here.)

We all wore silver and puffy shoulder pads

So as you can see, I've got a webcam now. Which is dangerous. I think we were all a little bit safer when all I could do was type to you. Insert evil laugh.

My family started bugging me to get one a couple months ago - so I'd be all hooked up to share the biscuit with everyone as soon as possible, but also because they wanted to throw me a - wait for it - virtual shower.

In the year 2000!

Because everyone - and I mean everyone - lives on the East Coast but us, a traditional baby shower was going to be hard to swing. I'll be having a lovely little tea party out here in a couple weeks, which is just my speed and will make things feel babylicious, but the big ol' cake-made-of-diapers, guess-the-candy-bar-poo type shower wasn't going to happen as easily.

So my family got creative and we had a virtual one instead! What does this mean exactly? Well, my Mom and cousins and aunts and Gram gathered in one location and I, uh, gathered here! And then we signed onto the Internets, they propped my little cyber head next to a crackling fire (so they tell me), and we...showered!

Let me tell you, it was all very Oprah.

There were games and presents - oh, the presents! I will feature some of them soon - and I showed my humongous belly and they had cake and I ate a scone. While being there in real life would have been ideal, obvs, it was still a lot of fun to "see" everyone in one place and have some girly times. Plus, when it was over, I was already in my PJs and could hit the couch with a cup of tea and some cuddles without driving home. And I didn't even have to wear a bra! Now, that's what technology is all about.

(Thanks a bunch, fam damly! You guys are da best. XO.)

This...speaks for itself

Bumpdate: 35 weeks, 3 days

Shirts don't cover my belly anymore. Beware, early preggo people! Garments you once laughed at for being "ENORMOUS"? You will dwarf them.

But really, dude. Is this thing for real? We keep saying it's like a prosthetic belly at this point - it's that big and...separate? I've decided to have a little talk with Mother Nature: How about we unstrap the belly at night and put it in a little growing pod? Then I strap 'er back on in the morning and do the heavy lifting during the daytime. Yes? No? Thoughts?

So the biscuit is still definitely baking furiously. I think she might be a ballet dancer like her mama with all the stretching and turning that goes on in there...ALL DAY LONG. Love her bum to pieces, though, and glad she's having fun with all my...parts.

To think! Just a few more bumpdates and then she's outta there! Muah. We can't wait to meet her.

Heaven

If for some reason this doesn't bore you to tears

Had my last (unless something nutty happens) ultrasound today! No biscuit pics because her face is planted into my lady parts (ow ow OW) and the scan was quick - just some head/belly/leg measurements.

I'm a little bored of typing medical updates, but simply put: today's appointment went really well. My gd GD is way under control (again - no one's even really sure I actually have it?), the lil' lady's in the 75th percentile for growth (still proportional, too, not just her belly - so most likely its genetics and not a blood sugar thing), she's in the right position, and now it's just time to wait! And wait and wait!

They see zero reason to induce and feel comfortable letting me go up to a week past my due date - which is a relief. (Not because I WANT to be pregnant for longer than 40 weeks - I DON'T - but because induction can = long, painful, unfruitful labor ending in a c-section. And no, I don't think a c-section is the end of the world - I just don't want to work my ass/crotch off when my body isn't ready yet and ultimately need surgery. Which hey - I may end up needing anyways, even without induction, because WHO KNOWS when it comes to labor.)

So! There ya go. Really happy that everything is looking so good. But also, admittedly, feeling a little...annoyed at all the hoopla I've gone through during this pregnancy.

(Your placenta might be too low! Resolved. Your cervix might be too short! Nope. Your baby is big because your blood sugar is too high! Prolly not. You might go into pre-term labor! No.)

When really, when you look at it standing back, my body's done just what it's supposed to. Sigh. I guess that's just Western medicine's motto, folks: best be safe than sorry. And since it's our first, I've been more willing to roll with the lots-of-appointment-punches because it's all new to me and I really do want to make sure everything is okay every step of the way. Next round, though, I might be going a more relaxed route. Just sayin'.

And on that note! Time to...not sleep!

This is how my nights go when I'm not drugged

11:30: Take a long shower to heat up and wind down.
12:00: Open the window, turn on the fan, covers.
12:10: Turn on a podcast.
12:40: Fall asleep.
2:30: Wake up. Wide wide awake.
2:45: Insane thoughts.
3:00: Turn on the light. Run naked to kitchen.
3:15: Eat an apple and a little soda bread.
3:20: Run back to bed.
3:30: Turn on another podcast.
4:45: Fall asleep.
7:00: Wake up starving. But still exhausted.
7:15: Run naked to kitchen. Eat a few slices of salami.
7:30: Run back to bed. Read things on my iPod.
7:45: Fall asleep apparently?
7:45-11:00: Dreams about murder.
11:05: Ready to start the day!

35 weeks: the stats

Blood pressure: Happy
Pee: Healthy
Baby's heartbeat: Great
Baby's head: Down
Baby's movements: Unstoppable
Cervix: Closed
Mama's tummy: Right size
Mama's weight: MYOB

No excitement yet! I actually thought I was going to be dilated a little after all those head butts she gives me and how low she hangs, but nope! Weekly appointments starting from here on out, so I'll be back next week. And this Wednesday I've got an ultrasound to check out baby's size - hopefully it's continued to slow down!

For now, I'll leave you with my OB's parting shot.

"Here's hoping you go into labor the day you hit 37 weeks!"

TWO WEEKS from now? Save your prayers, sista, we're holding out for February!

Sunday night

New skillet, new Irish soda bread I baked, new glasses. Bye!

Bumpdate: 34 weeks, 2 days

I basically can't roll over without assistance.

(And please par-don the mess; as I mentioned, we're in the midst of a decorating/organizing overhaul.)

Still feeling pretty good, though sleep can be very hard to come by. I've been popping half a Unisom the past couple nights, which helps me keep my eyes shut - but also makes for a groggy preggo come morning time. Nothing a little caffeine won't fix. Yup, Baby C! You're growing on drugs and caffeine. Yum yum!

With the ringing in of the new month/new year/new decade, it's really hit home how close we are to a biscuit in the basinett. As in...next month. As in...maybe this month if she gets any antsier.

Let the thumb twiddling begin!