THINGS YOU MIGHT WANT TO WARN A PREGNANT LADY ABOUT

So I walk in the door from work. I'm hungry. I have a headache. I need to pee. The typical trinity.

Put on the kettle. Put on my sweatpants. Ponder snack ideas. Head to bathroom.

I do my thing. Flush. Start to wash hands. Happen to glance over at toilet and



?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!

And then I died.

Oh wait, I'm still here!

Actually, I grabbed my nether regions and there wasn't a baby coming out. Which was very good.

But still. !?1?!?!?!!?1?1/1!/!/

And then I remembered they were planning some sort of plumbing check today in our building. So I ran to Clay's bathroom. Bowl was clear and clean. But then I flushed and

BLOODY BLOOD BLOOD HALLOWEEN MASSACRE 2009.

Do you THINK MAYBE they could have left us a friendly note under the door? Like

Hey!

All will look normal with your toilet until you flush for the first time. And then it'll look like you peed out your insides!

Love,

The Plumbers

Excuse me now, while I try and fish my heart out of my mouth.

Things I'm swooning over

These earrings!

Through a Twitters mention, I found this local jewelry maker. And then, after some website perusal, these kick ass (felt!) earrings. I’m not much for bedazzling my person, but something about these said YES to me.

Unfortunately, I cannot for the life of me get one into my right earring hole. Perhaps because I got my ears pierced at 21, forget I even have them, and last wore earrings on my wedding day in 2008? But I will triumph, people.

THIS BOOK.

Jeebus gawd this book is incredible. (I was about to link to a 1981 New York Times article talking about just how awesome, but let’s be honest; no one would dig through the article to find the mention, right?)

I bought it last weekend at the Mystery Bookstore in Noe Valley, a treasure trove of all things good and pure and creepy. It came untouched, covered in a plastic sleeve, and the cover – the cover! I want to read this book in one sitting it’s so delicious, but I also want to slow way down so it’s never over.

And now! Red pen time.

Friday the 13th

Will be my last day of work. That's 13 more actual work days. Zoom time flies.

I feel good about leaving third trimester to baby growing, holiday enjoying, and home readying.

But that doesn't mean I won't miss this job. Or the (kick ass) people that go along with it. I haven't typed much about the past 6 months at the office - because talking about work on the Internets can be a whole mess of trubs - but I've never had a more positive work experience. Super glad to have been there and definitely plan on staying in touch with my new franz.

And what comes after third trimester and baby landing? I'm staying home (such a weird way we all phrase it, no? I do plan on leaving my house) and doing the Mom Thing full time. Mostly for the health insurance and 401k, of course.

So ooo eeeee baby - BJA's about to be a breastfeeding, playdough cooking, Raffi singing full time mama.

And I can't wait.

I have a testimony

Of Ira Glass.

Without whose podcast, charming cadence, and quiet perfection I simply could not live. (Nor continue to earn a paycheck.)

You make work worth working, Mr. Glass. Keep on keeping on.

When you don't have cable

And you've got friends that are pulled together enough to organize real outings, you can get yer man - on football Sunday - to go along on a real field trip.

Here are some pics from our Half Moon Bay brunch-by-the-sea/pumpkin patch excursion. I feel like I really checked the box on FALL today. (Also on sun-my-face-needs-in-one-year.) And if you're wondering, the moccasins held up gah-reat.

Casey (Master Supreme Outing Organizer and Clay's frosh year roommate at Harvard) and me during brunch on the water. We took some without the glasses, but we look cuter here. Plus, my hair looks shiny.

At the pumpkin place, we all raced through a corn maze. For reasons unknown, I felt the best strategy to win was tip toes.

It did help bring us in second.

Group glamour shot, surrounding our trusty rusty tractor.

How lucky are my girl and I, surrounded by a gaggle of such hotties? I'm teaching her young.

Bumpdate: 24 weeks, 2 days

Horizontal stripes, baby!

(Thanks, Christie and you're welcome, Eric for taking this shirt out of your house.)

According to Billy the Doorman, told to Clay the Spouse, it "looks like she's gained 7 pounds since Saturday!" WHAT OF IT, BILLY.

But here's the thing. Extra l-b's or not, I'm feeling good lately. I can eat foods without dying, my roly polyness makes me giggle, and my mood is, at times, bordering on euphoric mania. Oh, hormones. Whattapal!

Oh AND. AND! Guess what came in the mail yesterday? (Last part in a sing-songy voice, please.) These puppies!

Yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum. YUM.

I didn't work today

Last night, a little voice told me to stay home today. Maybe it was the baby. Maybe it was a bird or the wind or a superhero with a crystal ball who saw I'd get sprinkled with H1N1 today. But who'm I to say no to mysterious voices? They always tell the truth about how good pumpkin butter toast will taste in the mornings. And afternoons.

So I took it easy, but I also got some things done: a beef stew in the crockpot, a load of laundry, knocked out a couple SVUs. (Yes, that last one counts.)

I piddled too much on the Internets, though, and started getting worked up about things I have no control over (um, other people). So I forced myself down the elevator and into the park before my brain exploded.

I brought an orange and a magazine and stared at the palm trees. And decided, while licking sticky fingers, to take a break from some of my usual Internets haunts. No one's forcing me to read anything I don't want to - it's up to me to surround myself with smart and uplifting messages. You know, like this.

So that happened.

And now? Now I remove the robot arm and peel some apples for the crisp I'm baking up. You wish you were a nose in my apartment right now.

Until the real one comes

This is our placeholder baby. His name is Grobot.

He watches the balcony all day, alerting the doorman to any intruders.

We love him and his green grass hair and his porcelain heart.

Muah, Grobaby. Muah.

Footbell

Baby girl likes to kick me all the time, but does NOT like to be caught doing it. So while Clay has felt her move several times, it's not consistent and it's never the big ones that make me gasp. He doesn't really seem to mind, but I get obsessed.

"Put your hand here now!"

"But I'm looking at cars?"

So last night, after my cookie and tea (round 3), when she was feeling especially feisty, I ran over to his couch and placed his hand on my tum. But then, of course, nothing. Stopped dead in her tiny tracks. Radio womb silence.

So I scooted to the end of the couch and moped for a second, before I felt his feet on my bare bell. She squirmed a few times under his tread, though never gave a good enough wallop for him to feel. But while daddy and rogirl didn't meet up last night, it still made mama happy.

And look! I still have an innie!

If you want to know what makes me laugh

Maybe harder than anything else, watch



I sit on my couch after work and giggle until I cry. Just me and my belly and my maple cream cookies. If you're a Netflix Instanter like me, there are now a bunch of episodes ready to press play on whenever you're ready to get awesome.

Windshield snap

A purty little rainbow just for me on the drive home.

I was singing this song and loving life.

Bounty

Since we moved into our pad, I've shopped almost exclusively at Whole Foods. It's right down the street, it's got healthy stuff for the bean inside me, and it smells nice. They've got the bestest produce around for all those fruit cravings and a cheese section to kill for and all sorts of lovely loveliness. Which is all well and good. But meh. I'm in a grocery rut.

Yesterday I started making a list for my Sunday grocery run. I paged through some cookbooks and tried to get inspired, but yawn yawn stretch yawn dull.

But then!

The Trader Joe's flyer arrived (direct mail! it works!), I remembered I forgot to remember it was close by, and I actually woke up this morning looking forward to grocery shopping.

?!?!?!??!?!

I sort of made a list, kissed the boo bye, and started throwing cutely packaged cardboard boxes and plastic tubs of

spiced apple bread mix

beer bread mix

pumpkin butter

maple cream cookies

naan

honey nut joe's

sourdough bread

and fruit leather bars and choco-swirled lemon cookies and indian goodies and potato gnocchi and aweireporeoueoid;ldkf

into my cart.

I was running through the aisles like they were meadows full of flowers and open bottles of Pine Sol.

I suppose you could say it's sad that a happy trip to the grocery store makes me feel like a successful human, filled with light and radiance and hope for planet earth, but nom nom nom nom nom I'm too busy eating my weight in cookies to care.

Bumpdate: 23 weeks, 2 days

It's getting hard to tie my shoes, guys. Which is why I made the executive decision to do away with ties and ordered moccasins yesterday. Please don't shame me if by the end, I'm grocery shopping barefoot.

Don't mind me

I'm just over here at my desk, listening to this on repeat, licking up my tears:

In addition to apples

So, people...there's been a new development in the cravings conversation.

It started happening a few days ago, crept up on me slowly, so that I wasn't really sure it was technically a craving until last night. Last night, when it became super overwhelming.

Last night, when all I wanted to do was swim in a pool of Pine Sol.

Um.

You may or may not have heard of pica, the craving for non-food items? Like dirt and oil and toilet paper and, yes, Pine Sol. It's most common in children, but can happen during pregnancy, too. There's no explanation for why we preggos can get it, though there's some reason to believe it could relate to iron deficiency. Which I've never had, by the way, but...maybe? I sure eat a lot of cheeseburgers.

It's semi-impossible to understand until it's suddenly upon you; I know I didn't quite buy it until it started happening to me. It pretty much began out of the blue - I haven't recently smelled Pine Sol or cleaned with it or even seen it on a shelf. I just know that I NEED IT.

And so now, here I sit, munching on my PB&J English muffin, desperately wishing I could chase it with a shot of piney fresh cleaner.

PREGNANCY = INSANE.

Fruity

When people ask me what I’ve been craving during these past 5.5 months, I want to answer “dirt with frosting” or “sardines and jello”, but turns out I’m the least interesting preggo eater ever.

All I want is fruit.

Fruit, FrUiT, fRuIt, FRUIT.

This is particularly strange because in my pre growing-a-baby days, I actively didn’t like fruit. It tasted eh to me, it made my tummy hurt a little, I’d rather eat a brownie. Growing up, I dreaded playing at those kids’ houses where, after a long day at school, the mom handed you a piece of fruit and told you to go play. (I actually still think that’s weird.)

But now. Now! I can’t think of anything tastier.

It was watermelon, plums, peaches, and grapes this summer.

Now it’s apples (Honeycrisp!), apples (Fuji!), apples (Gala!), and some (Valencia!) oranges on the side.

Last night, in the middle of some content-viewing (what up, Mr. Holland’s Opus?) I scurried to the kitchen for some refreshments.

“Want an apple?” I asked Clay.

He paused.

“Sure.”

Now I paused.

“Do you REALLY want an apple?”

“Um...no? It would taste good, but I don’t really care either way.”

I pause again, hand quivering over the refrigerator’s fruit drawer.

“Are you deciding if I deserve an apple?” Clay asks.

“Yes.”

“Wow.”

In the end, he got one.

Because I'm the most giving person I know.

Bumpdate: 22 weeks, 2 days

Please ignore my gaping mouth - I've got a cold and can't breathe otherwise. Of course, I'm always a little shocked at my appearance, too. Let's just say shaving is getting...athletic.

This isn't an early bumpdate

Just a documentation of the bizarre things I put together before I run out the door to copyedit video game manuals with my robot arm.

Those Uggs are bona fide super originals from the first wave of insanity in 2003. I wore them every single day of senior year at BU and yeah, you can tell. I believe I see some pot brownie batter splashed on the back. Kidding. Um.

The dress was 9.99 at Marshalls two years ago for a Goodby trip to Napa. Stretchy!

Thanks to Manj for the leggings, a godsend from Gap maternity.

The sweater, bulging over my ample bosom, is a regular non-maternity Gap cardy. Its days are numbered.

Robot arm is a Walgreens original! Only 19.99 at your local retailer!

A date with a laydee

So I got to visit with our little buddy this morning. (Who, incidentally, is looking less and less like a robot. Sorry, friends.)

Clay's in NYC for work stuff, so he missed the rendezvous - but we've got three or four more ultrasounds, so it wasn't too sad. Although I'm sure he missed making his favorite "When can we take a paternity test?" joke. Badum ching.

The great news is the placenta issue seems to have resolved. Woot! It definitely moved up and away from the naughty place and I'm free to get sexy, fly, and train for that marathon like I was planning. Or just keep watching SVU reruns in sweats with a milkshake. Whatever.

My cervix, the real reason I keep getting all these ultrasounds, is measuring just fine, too. It's good news that it's looking good, but the real test will be when the bug gets chubbier and starts pressing down. Again - not too worried, but very happy I'm getting the extra attention.

But onto the fun stuff!

She was being super shy and stubborn today, not wanting to show us her face one bit. Her position for most of the visit was:

Head to her knees and turned away, arms in front of face, legs crossed. Sort of like she was tucking for a dive. Or stretching after barre. Or saying leave me alone, buttheads. Adorable, yes. (DON'T YOU WANT TO EAT THOSE LEGS FOR LUNCH?!) But I wanted to see her lil facey! After lots of flopping and walking around she finally cooperated a tiny bit toward the end.

But listen. While I find her little face cute as a button, she still kind of looks like a gremlin. And dude, she's a lady. So I won't post gremlin pics. She'll thank me later.

A very unbirthday

Today, my cousin and aunt got on a jet plane and zipped home to Maine.

We had such a fun (and packed) long weekend and I was sad to wave goodbye.

There were long walks and yummy lunches and knitting lessons and baby girl snuggy hand-me-downs and tea parties and autumn sunburns.

For the win!

I'm a terrible picture taker, in that I just don't remember to do it, but they took lots of pics of our adventures that I'll post when I get my hands on 'em.

The only one I walked away with is below, our tea party treat tray. If you want to make the ladies in my family happy, serve us tea and treats.

Soon, it was all gone.

Love you, ladies!

Bumpdate 21 weeks, 2 days

My Buddha belly and Buddha.


-- Posted from my iPhone

I want to set up some kind of challenge

For Clay and me. To accrue as little and spend as little on baby stuff as possible.

Because have you ever seen a baby? They are small. Very small.

They need things - a place to sleep, a place to be changed, a place to hang - but they don't need 12 roomfuls of it.

Because have you ever seen babies in other countries? They be rolling simple, man.

As I've mentioned, my cousin and aunt are in town (yay!), and we've been working on a list of the must-haves for baby's first months. Christie had her third baby last year and is keeping it even more simple than with the first two - using a sling to carry the little lady around, cloth diapers, hasn't even taken the swing out of the box. I love talking with my peeps - they think like I do.

And because so many of those must-haves can be bought secondhand (strollers, clothes, etc) it just isn't my priority to buy spanking new things. Even if they're really purty.

(For those wrinkling their noses right now, let's keep in mind my Mom used to pack my lunches with juice held in old pickle jars. I'm pretty comfy with pre-used items, mmkah?)

So. For the mamas or papas or nannies or any babies that can type (Lucy, I'm looking at you), what were/are your must-haves? If you're preggo, what do you plan on getting? If you're reading this on your Blackberry, sipping a martini and just starting a long night out, well, you probably want to sock me in the eye. Lo siento!

The Yankees are coming the yankees are coming!

In the spirit of their arrival, and perhaps cruelly ignoring last week's nasty news, I'm posting this video because:

1) I can't tell you the number of times I played it on our record player during Massachusetts winters - age 8, 9, 10, 11...infinity.
2) LOOK AT THAT HAT.
3) This arrangement is cooler than the studio version.
4) I live here now and it still kind of thrills me.
5) THE HAT.

This is a picture

To show you what I look like with clothes *over* the belly.

1) Isn't the bump so strange and high?

2) Holy shit, I have a BOOTY.

3) I finally bought cute pants that don't fall off!

4) Look! I folded laundry!

Mover and shaker

The past few days, our little lady is kick kick punch kick punch elbow flip! What before was the occasional and thrilling poke, is now a constant do-see-do, a little dancing sidekick while I grocery shop, watch Netflix, eat trailmix, cook chicken, eat trailmix.

Every time she starts up, I make Clay run over and put his hand on my belly. But dude, she can seriously tell she's being watched (felt?) and clams right up. Kind of like her mama.

She relaxed a little tonight, though, and let her dada feel a couple small pokes after he rushed over at my yell. It's lovely to finally share her with Clay; I've felt a little bit shellfish lately, feeling all the crazies she does, all by my lonesome.

In other news, I'm back obsessed with my slow cooker, a wedding prez from Clay's mom. (Thanks, Cindy!) Once fall arrived, I started thinking about it all the time (admit I'm the most interesting person you know) and even bought a new book o' recipes for it.

Tonight, I whipped up some yummy chicken, later in the week I've got pork chops and sweet potatoes planned. But I'm really excited (again, my coolness is otherworldly) to make Indian Pudding, a New England favorite. Wanna come over and eat some wif me? Just as long as you do the dishes.

Bumpdate: 20 weeks 2 days

Work bathroom! Huge belly! All very sexy!


-- Posted from my iPhone

Sure, I'm a nut

But I've also got a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles thermos.


So life ain't all bad.

A little long, a lot personal

I was just lying in bed, beating myself up for having a super irrational preggo moment, unable to fall asleep. I realized I was writing out my feelings inside my head, as a way to explain them to...myself I guess. So why not just type it out here and hopefully konk out after?

Lots of people make jokes about being "OCD" when they like a clean car or have to be on time somewhere. But actual obsessive compulsive behaviors... suck. (I was going to write "are no laughing matter" but, um, that's creepy.)

When I was little, I used to get obsessed with these thoughts or ideas that wouldn't leave my mind no matter how hard I tried. They were stuck there and I would fixate on them, no matter how insane, until I thought I couldn't stand it anymore. Eventually they'd disappear, but not before stealing hours of sleep and happy thoughts.

The first one I can remember, I was about five. This thought just...came to me that sitting in my attic, just waiting for someone to open the door, was this sinister Sumo wrestler guy. What?! I know. That's it. He just sat there. But I could think of nothing else and I wanted it/him GONE.

These obsessive thoughts were soon joined by certain compulsions, things I had to do. Count to a certain number before leaving my room, brush my teeth a certain way, make a certain facial expression at a certain time. I had to do these things or...I have no idea. Because I never let there be an or.

As I got older and learned some management techniques, a lot of my obsessions and compulsions waned. I still had the desire RIGHTTHERE all the time, but I knew how to fight it and keep going.

Pregnancy has pretty much thrown all that work out the window.

My mind is now pretty much ruled by intrusive thoughts, completely involuntarily, about...22 hours a day? I'm shaving a couple hours off for when I'm really enjoying some pie or watching Columbo or cuddling my cram or peeing. You probably want me to take off some hours for sleeping, but that's when I have all my nightmares and so nope! Can't do that.

Most of my worries, not surprisingly, are about the baby, or me, or Clay, or my family. Is the baby choking on her umbilical cord right now? Will Clay get cancer in the next 3 hours? Did my mom just go on a date with a serial killer? Fun stuff like that.

But there's a slight finesse I like to give my worries. It's this idea of fixating on how everything's okay NOW, but in two or five or ten or one hundred minutes...everything will CHANGE. For the absolute WORST. I'll focus on a song on my iPod and think, "I'll so remember this tune because in a minute I'm going to be hit by a car" or look around me and think, "This building is so nice - I wonder what it'll look like when the earthquake strikes after lunch." This goes on all day.

I went through this particular obsession about 5 or 6 years ago. I think it's because that things-are-good-now-they're-not sort of came true, on two separate occasions. Two separate times I took the time to realize how good and solid and healthy things were in my family. Then two separate times, within 24 hours, they suddenly...weren't. For a good year there, I was convinced every single phone call or email would bring more bad news. Pretty relaxing.

So yeah. Which leads me to tonight. After a whole day of obsessing and fretting and wringing my hands, my whole self was just worn out. I should have just gone to bed and hidden under my pillows. But instead, I latched onto this minute little comment and just blew it up. And I just get so mad at myself when I can't contain it anymore, when it leaks out into other things and other people. Because! Because then I've created a whole new thing, a whole new incident to obsess over tomorrow.

I don't have a pretty ending for this, and bless any of you who are still reading; I just had to get it out. But I do feel a little better and a little bit sleepier. Which is progress. Night, friends.

Knit purl knit purl knit purlae ajeworiueproieueire

Yes!

NO!

Yesterday I was running a mild fever and just felt...off. I went home early from work and took it easy, taking my temperature roughly every 6 minutes and popping Tylenol on schedule. Every single person in the entire world is sick right now and I really don't want to follow suit. Whether it's a cold or the piggy flu, it's just no good getting sick while asthmatic and preggo.

I woke up this a.m. after sleeping hard and decided to stay home for the day. Once afternoon hit, my fever was gone, but I just wanted to really rest up and keep tabs on any changes. I think I'm better.

To pass the day, I picked up my knitting again. I bought some delicious yarn this weekend and decided on a simple pattern for a baby blanket for my baby girl. I wanted a project that would take a bit, but wouldn't stress me out too much. So I started! And it went so well for quite some time.

Until the dreaded dropped stitch. If you're a knitter or have attempted The Knitting, you know how horrifical these can be if caught too late. I think (?!) I can fix the situation, but it will take every ounce of my spatially-challenged gray matter to figure it out.

I pulled out half my hair and brewed a cup of tea with my ear-steam before realizing I needed to put it down, step away, and try again later.

*watches Columbo*

*eats choco-covered nuts from Billy the Doorman*

*pees 12 times*

*drinks cran-grape out of the jug*

....is it later yet?

Frasier Crane had one

And now, so do I.

Clay and I (mostly Clay) have been researching cars for the past few months, ever since we found out a new buddy was joining the family. Our current mobile is a (lovely, zippy) two-door Volkswagen GTI. Ain't gonna cut it with mama's back, yo.

So! The hunt began.

We were mostly deciding between wagons and SUVs, wagons and SUVs. We've got experience with both and like them both - it was just going to come down to comfort, style, price, etc. At times I pushed for the Subaru (a major favorite with my New England fam), but ya know - I drove A LOT of those in my time and I figured it was time for something new.

Because we were most likely trading for something a little parent-y, we wanted to have it semi-fun for Clay to drive. It's just not safe to jump from zippy car straight to minivan.

Anywho.

Clay started reading about the BMW 540i wagon and I fell in love with how it looked. Then we decided we actually preferred the older model to the newer one, which narrowed the search. Then (this is a really fun story, right?) he found a 2001 model that was all purty and affordable and so we drove (an hour zzzzz) and fell in love with the real deal. And so it was done.

We still keep wondering if we're the only people who've actually downgraded their vehicle...

(We currently have both cars, but hope to sell the VW stat. Ben? Interested?)

But I heart my "new" ride to the max.

It's roomy, safe, stylish, lightly worn-in (I say "I like old things" about 10 times a day so this is a plus in our household), comfy, and um - close your ears, Moms - fast. Not that we'll utilize this feature, of course. It's just...there.

Plus, I dunno. I've always drooled over Beemers. Maybe because my TV idol Frasier had one. Maybe because Lelaina from Reality Bites had one. Maybe just because they're bad ass.

Let the judgments commence!

My new steering wheel

Bumpdate: 19 weeks, 2 days *Now with better picture*

*Post-edit: For some reason, last week's picture looks bigger than this week's. Um wrong. I'm suddenly HUGE now, much more than last week so...blame me and my awful iphone skillz. Back me up here, Clay? On second thought - please don't.*

Writing this in a cab so I'm using the "1974" setting on my camera app to lighten up the shadows.

Overslept like woah, but zzz I needed it.

Almost exactly halfway to b-day/d-day, people.

Woot! Or, on the other hand, AH!

A picture of a picture

From left to right: My little bro T, me, cousin Ben, cousin Christie.

Hanging on Gram's porch in Maine. (Sorry you couldn't make it, Sawyer! Another 18 years till you made the first cousin scene.)

This one hangs on my fridge and makes me happy.

Tho a little jealous of all those blondies. Baby lady has a shot, methinks...

Elmo fans, shield your eyes

So our buddy Casey threw his boyfriend (and also our buddy) Steve a surprise birthday party this weekend. At a rollerskating rink on a Saturday morning. Needless to say, it was awesome.

The only bummer? Preggos aren't really supposed to rollerskate. But I cheated a little and took a few laps around the rink before everyone's disapproving glares and Clay's nervous hand gestures made me sit down and sip some Sprite. I felt like Sarah Jessica Parker in Footloose, waiting on Willard. (I tried so hard to find a clip. Boo.) (Also, RIP Chris Penn. You were my first I-want-to-eat-that-boy crush. Whew.)

We somehow didn't get any pictures of me either wearing the big, bad, brown skates or actually skating, but I'm hoping someone else did. I'll keep you posted.

After skating, we moved the party outside, so as to not scare the children beginning to stream in. Then Steve killed Elmo.

It was a beautiful morning.

Bumpdate: 18 weeks, 2 days

Here they be! (In all their terrible-qualitied splendor.) The first one is a tasteful view of what others see as they pass me by and I struggle to stay awake longer than 3 minutes. The second one is, well, a lot of belly.

Off to work!

The baby lady waves hello

Before we get to the feature film, thaaaaank you thank you for all your happy, happy comments! It was so fun to post the reveal and read everyone's reactions. HOW DO YOU NON-FINDER-OUTERS WAIT?!??!

Next order of business: A few comments on these 4D video things. First, I always thought they were a little creepy. Second, I thought something wacky had to be done to get that picture. Third, I thought you had to request that something-wacky.

But there we were yesterday, checking the profile and making the measurements ("we" weren't doing that part, exactly), when the technician suddenly just switched a button on her little machine and with the same wand in the same place, a 4D video of the little lady started dancing around. Nuts! And adorable!

She's really snuggled close to my placenta (terrible word, I apologize), so it was difficult at first to see all her little parts. This one is my favorite, because she's actually waving! Look at that arm go up and down and her han'y open and close! (Apparently, according to the technician, a great sign. Of catching a softball in the Olympics? Clay hopes.)

But the wave and the little legs and her little face all snuggled up and cozy. It's love!

So as I said, the baby looks really great. Heart is "beautiful", she's measuring right where she should at 8 ounces, moving a lot, spine fully closed - all the good stuff. It's just incredible to see how developed she is up there and all the little stuff she does all day - and that she's a she!

Mama's doing pretty good, too. My cervix is measuring great (they're keeping a close eye on it throughout the pregnancy) and the only teeny worrisome thing right now = my placenta is lying a little too close/low to my cervix. The only bum deal with this is, if it stays low until late third trimester, I'll need a c-section and possibly bed rest toward the end.

Since I'm only at 18 weeks, there's a very good chance the placenta will move away from the naughty place as I grow more - so the doctor told me not to sweat it too much. He even made a bet that this particular situation won't bring on a c-section.

But still, he told me to take it easy this next month until I see them again. No running (oh, DAMN) and nothing too strenuous or high-impact.

"Just be...normal," he said.

Clay tried his best not to laugh out loud.

The big reveal...

I'll keep this post short, friends, and follow up with more cuteness later (including a baby VIDEO) because I know you're all dying to hear the news...

So here we go.

It's...

a....

!!GIRL!!

I'm TOTALLY shocked. And honestly...totally psyched. Yahoo!!!

More on the appointment to come soon (baby looks great and healthy and lovely), but wanted to get this up here stat.

My little lady and I are gonna go eat some tacos and watch the tube! Check ya lates!

A word about tomorrow; but first, a picture

This is me. Raising my fist in celebration after Clay agreed to eat at a Sizzler with me.

We were about to head home, after a lovely sunsetty, exploratory drive through a South Bay town, and a quick stop at Target, but then I batted my blue eyes under the moonlight and vamoosh! Soon we were eating steaks and baked potatoes and infinite salad bars at 9 pm with about 100 other people. (Is THIS where everyone disappears to on Sunday nights?) Clay almost cried through the whole thing, but I was in fatty coma heaven. As was Robaby.

Speaking of which! Tomorrow, which will probably be today as you're reading this, we find out boy or girl lalala! The appointment's at 4:00 our time, so heads up - I won't be posting the big news till East Coast nighttime.

Now, let's all collectively cross our fingers and wish/hope/pray that the little jam cakes cooperates and shows us his/her stuff so we can start PLANNING. Numz!

Bumpdate: 17 weeks, 2 days

Be careful!

MY BELLY WILL HYPNOTIZE YOU.

It's the Monk in me that insists on keeping these at __ week, 2 days. I can't stop! Plus, it's sort of a little Friday treat, no? My bigger-and-bigger bumpalump says to you, "Yes! You really DO have room for that extra Pumpkin Spice latte."

To do it, to do it, to do it

My buddy Jordan reminded me of this song today on Twitter. God bless her heart, because it makes me dance in my chair like a loon. Think this came out when I was about five, and it makes me feel just that way.

I lurve you, George.

I heart baby appointments

I love them! I do. I take this two block stroll down the hill, hop on the elevator, pee in a cup, and then chill in the waiting room for a little while. And I really mean little while. This practice is magical and only once in the three years that I've gone there have I waited longer than 15 minutes to see the doctor.

Then I toddle into the room and they congratulate me for gaining weight (!) and I show my tummy and we listen to the heartbeat and I just swoon. It makes me so crazy happy and teary and giggly.

She pointed a few inches below my belly button (which is rapidly disappearing, by the way) and said, "That's where your baby likes to hang out."

Hang out! Just kickin back, sippin a cold one, enjoying the Rice Krispies treats I gobble.

The heartbeat is perfect, apparently, and in the 150's. I don't think I'll ever get over the craziness of putting this little wand on my belly and hearing THAT. Right there, super close all the time, shaking a leg. Man.

Of course, I made the doctor take a guess on the gender.

"You know, I'm pretty good at guessing. I usually get a really strong feeling from the mom, one way or the other. And with you...you could be having either!"

Thanks, lady.

"But, if I HAD to guess...I'd guess boy."

Which is where I'm still landing these days, too. (Sorry, MIL...)

But of course I don't have a clue. And won't until TUESDAY. Tuesday! So close, yet so far away.

SO. Spill, people. Whaddaya think I'm cookin'?

I'm waiting on a cheeseburger

Brought via spouse via scooter. To distract myself from the drooling while I wait, I thought I'd give a quick update.

I get a lot of questions about my tummy. Not the baby part, but the ouchy part. Am I feeling better? Can I eat without crying yet? I'm loathe to talk about it, because I'm always wrong, but I think...maybe...shhhh...maybe...I'm actually better. BUT DON'T TELL ROBABY.

I won't write my Ode to Health for a few more days, just to be sure, but yep, I am feeling human again.

Which means I'm actually able to do things like clean the apartment even after a day on the job. This would have been impossible but two weeks ago, you see. So I put on some Godspell and ran around cleaning and singing and dancing. Which felt a little different as a pregnant lady? My 'Turn Back, O Man' number didn't feel quite so sexy with a bump...But more importantly - Robaby really loves gospel musicals. You're welcome, Clay.

The hand puffies have gotten better, although they're still not back to normal. I think it's probably just the way they're going to be for awhile. I've got my monthly appointment tomorrow (heartbeat! yes!) so I'll ask my paranoid questions then. Note to self: Make note to self to remember what the hell to ask because it's impossible to remember on the table.

What else, what else...

The buddy was really active today! I credit Arizona Green Tea. After a few sips, he/she/ro was really shaking a leg. I lurve it.

I think I hear a key jangle...

Must assume position.

aewori[roiepoar

Oh, I'm sorry. Were you not able to understand my title? It's probably because my hands are swollen and I can'taoepruaoerperf type very well.

This delightful new symptom started up yesterday, when I went for a walk down by the piers with my buddy Manjiri. It was hot - truly hot, not fake San Francisco hot - and our "walking" didn't last very long. We strolled for a bit, but soon my hands were puffy marshmallow mittens and I had to sit down to make it stop.

We chilled in the shade on the cool pavement, and drank lemonades and ate sammies, and chat chat chatted, occasionally stopping to gawk at the local talent. Warm weather brings out the CRAZIES - I'll leave it at that.

(No, I won't. This one dude, not a transvestite, in no other way femme, was wearing a DENIM SKIRT. Just, like, hey! It's really warm, the jean shorts are too stifling, this thing looks comfy, yeah!)

But the hand puffies didn't go away. They stayed with me for the rest of the day and through the night, as I watched Clay play his new Batman game, tried playing it myself, and then made us watch Mad Men instead. (Sidenote: Do you ladies truly find Jon Hamm attractive? Am I missing something? I do not get it. At all.)

And they're still here today. Puff, puff, puff the magic puffies. I'm sure I'm just retaining water like a happy preggo is supposed to, but of course I like to consume myself with frantic Google searches, ranging from early preeclampsia to cancer of the fingernails.

Want to come over? It's fun!

Bumpdate: 16 weeks, 2 days

Ha ho! We'z not kidding around anymore, people.

Bump chicka bump wah.

The other day my (female) worker (I don't think male coworkers like to acknowledge my, um, status) was all:

"Wow! I can SEE it!"

Which is good? I guess?

Note the skirt, making a comeback from the 12 weeks bumpdate. They tell me it's going to be hot today (summer in San Francisco starts in September - didn't you know?), so I'm making Team Buddy Bean comfy.

Which will also be accomplished with the Egg McMuffin I'm about to scarf.

Happy Birthday

To my buddiest buddy guy.

Thanks for being my robot daddy.

I hope our robaby looks just like you.

(But maybe a few more nuts and bolts and stuff.)

I love you. Like woah.

*Yep, that's really Clay.*

Like mother like robot

So I thought I'd give the robot building a little nudge by wearing my own gear. You know, osmosis or something.

But isn't this thing hardcore?

My old snowboarding ouchy plus repetitive stress from typing and writing plus weird pregnancy ligament issues equals PAINZ r us. But the fashion opportunity is cereal worth it.

I'm making it WORK, Tim.


-- Post From My iPhone

*!!!Pow Pow Bam Karate Chop Head Butt!!!*

That fight sequence? That was our little robot making sure I remember he's in there. (Sorry for the lack of equal opp pronouns. I'm completely convinced it's a boy and I'm too lazy to pretend I'm not.) Not with lots of fun kicks (the movements are still tiny and finicky), but with a dayful of nausea and heartburn and crazy mood swings. I'm tired, friends. Just when I get a little cocky, remembering those old first trimester days with a shake of my head and a Mona Lisa smile, I get socked to the ground, with a mouthful of dirt to chew on.

It helps to know I get good days now, too, but it's hard not to feel frustrated and jealous of those "at 13 weeks I felt a switch turn the sick off!" people. Me no get it. Where does it come from, after it's been gone for three or four days in a row? THE FIERY PITS OF HELL. That's where!

I watched Rosemary's Baby last night, to make me feel better. Because, ya know, things may get rough and I may feel exhausted and overwhelmed sometimes. But I'm not carrying Satan's son and that's really pretty awesome.

For the record

Bras for the big chested are not sexy time. I sort of knew this already, but since I've usually fallen into the nicely-endowed, but not hugely-endowed group, I didn't think too much about it. But the past week or so it's become very clear that the ol' undergarments weren't cutting it anymore. You're not supposed to spill out of your cups when you lean over to turn on your computer, turns out.

So tonight, after a nummy sushi dinner with my nummy husband (mostly veggies for me, but I had ONE RAW SCALLOP so help me God), I hit the stores and ordered up some new holder-uppers. And wow. First of all, I'm rocking a size further down the alphabet than I thought was in my future. And second, these, uh, garments are...not going to get me in Playboy. Not that I want to be in Playboy. But if I did. I couldn't. I am STRAPPED IN. I am READY TO PLAY, COACH. Locked AND loaded.

But back to your Friday night already! I'll just be over here, requesting a new zip code for my chest.

Bumpdate: 15 weeks, 2 days

Me and the bug!

Sorry for the weird light in these things. I take them right before I run to work, before I've eaten and my belly gets huger, and I haven't quite gotten down the knack of my lil phone yet.

I can't tell if there's much difference between last week's picture and this week's picture, but believe me when I say, in real life? THERE IS.

Apologies to your eyes for having to look at my only pair of too-big maternity pants. Maybe one day I'll wear something else. Although, it gives a real sense of continuity from one week to the next right? RIGHT?

I think they need a new word for pregnant

Kind of like how they rebranded 'prunes' to 'dried plums'? I just find it so awkward, especially around those of the male persuasion. PREG-nant. PREGGGGNANT. See? Ew. Say it over and over and you'll start to shudder, too. Plus, getting that "Pr" sound out is a lot of work, just ask the 900 speech pathologists I have in my family. And I'm too tired to make difficult sounds.

Sometimes I just say "I'm having a baby", but I think that's bad in a different way. Because while, yes, eventually, this thing is coming out, it ain't coming out RIGHT NOW, while I'm eating my Reuben and fries, thanks. Furry and skinny and eyes-sealed-shut.

Also, is there some sort of hormone that kicks in second trimester that makes you want to EAT YOUR HUSBAND? Because I want to do just that. I want to whip out a spoon and dig in. He smells all delicious and looks all precious and, well, it's a little distracting, frankly. Kiss kiss smooch grab snuggle nuzzle dot com.

15 week bumpdate coming stat!

Hello, I am lame sauce

I am unable to keep our apartment clean. UNABLE. We got it in good shape for our houseguest last week (hi, Matt!), but as soon as he (and his help) were gone? The dishes pile up, the clothes spill out of the hamper (hamper? is that a word?!), the junk mail and bags and jackets bury me in a puddle of mush. Fail.

Also? I get out of breath walking up small hills.

Additionally? Cooking has gone out the window. Bye! Hello, pizza and Thai and cereal and brownies.

Oh, and I forgot to drop the Netflix in the mailbox today. And pay our fruit/veggie delivery bill. And cancel my dentist appointment on time.

My pants fall down when I walk because I bought the wrong size and I'm too tired to get a different pair.

My hair is clean only 50% of the time.

But! I'm REALLY GOOD at eating cheese.

I had a dream last night

That my brother and I - current ages - decided to put on a play in my Mom's bedroom, and invite many people. We both played witches and planned on singing songs about bags. We both bombed, people left in a huff, and then I woke up.

In other news, I wanted to say a few things I am grateful for in this pregnancy (obvs aside from the facts that we conceived easily, have had no scary scares, and my husband rocks - I am grateful for those everyday) since most of the time I complain about my queasies.

1. My skin has not rebelled. It looks exactly the same as it did pre-bean. I have no idea how, since everything else has been wildly affected by my wild hormones. But I'm not asking questions, people. I'm just saying thank you.

2. For the past 5 years, I've had this mysterious insane leg/hip problem that caused me lots and lots of pain and moaning and Advil. For some completely unknown reason, it is GONE. Like, no sign of it for the past 3.5 months. Hey, thanks, leg!

3. Full fat milk in my caffeinated beverages. Because my doctor told me I'm allowed a small cup of coffee a day, sometimes I give in. Especially if I can't close my eyes because they're hurting so much from the PAIN THE PAIN. And when I give in? I get a latte with whole milk. Because I can! Lalalala!

4. Old friends reach out and we have lovely catch-up convos.

5. It's okay to cry really hard at Felicity.

6. ELASTIC WAIST JEANS.

Knock three times on the ceiling if you want me

As I lie here, digesting my third meal of the day at 1:21 pm, and blinking my eyes against a blinding headache, I'm trying hard to focus on the sensations of my belly. See, there's always something gurgling or rumbling or retching or churning down there - but last night something different happened. Last night, after eating a bowl of parmesan cheese with a side of spaghetti, I laid down on the couch, on my right side, and suddenly felt

*tap tap tap*

I stayed perfectly still and waited. And it came again, only this time stronger

*tap tap poke poke tap tap flutter flutter tap*

"I think I just felt the baby move?!" I shouted to Clay, who looked up in surprise.

I quickly sat up and googled "quickening", that medievalish term for feeling baby bean's first movements. Lo and behold, the Interwebs told me a small portion of ladies can feel it as early as 15 weeks. Ah!

And then, it was all I wanted to feel. I flip flopped right to left, poked my belly a little, ate some gummy worms, jogged in place. But that was it. Until this morning, when I felt the tiny flutter again, just a little kick to get my day started and feed my buddy some grub.

This rules.

14.5 week bumpdate

I had a bit of a frenzied morning so I didn't get to do my bumpdate as wanted. So I'm winging it from my new phone instead. Here goes....


-- Post From My iPhone

If you're lucky

You caught my religion post earlier this evening. But it's down for now. Dunno. Thought it would help to put it out there, but it didn't. After I posted it, I sat through dinner (a lovely dinner in the Castro with Casey and Clay and Matt and small plates of goodness) and obsessed over the words I'd posted. I felt weird; like I'd told too much, but also not enough, somehow at the same time.

When it comes down to it, I have some very specific things to say to some very specific people and my blog probably isn't the place to do it.

I'm sure I'll get all worked up again and rework it at some point, but for now? Nah.

But! Bumpdate coming Friday morning. Me promise!

Bumpdate: 13 weeks (and change)

So I'm officially at the stage where you can see I've got a belly under my shirt, but it could still be full of jelly doughnuts or Cheetos, instead of a baby. So I get all these sneaky stares throughout the day, like hmm, she's got such slender limbs - pity about the gut.

Good news and a rant

The good! = We got our results from the blood test that screens for Down syndrome and Edwards syndrome (I live in a crazy state where insurance covers these tests for all ladies, not just the over-35 crowd, which is more typical) and they were negatory.

To be more specific, our baby has a 1/9,500 chance of having Down's. And a less than 1/100,000 chance of having Edward's. Seeing that the average risk for an 18-year-old mama (as low risk as it gets, really) to have a baby with Down's is 1/1,198 and for Edward's is 1/4,668 -- I'll take it!

Anything that lets me breathe a little easier is greatly welcomed, so - huzzah!

The rant! = I am super done with city life right now. Everywhere I turn, I smell urine. And garbage. And more urine. And then I'll see some dude shooting up smack behind an abandoned shopping cart. Or another barefoot, shirtless dude strolling into my bagel joint, looking at condiments for his...beer? My pregnant nose and belly and soul cannot take it. I want to be teleported to a green mountaintop, where I'll eat tomatoes and olive oil and read Little House on the Prairie in between skinny dips in a creek. Please?

Most importantly, I wanted to let you know that the steamy pregnancy dreams have begun. Unfortunately, I can't really enjoy them because the whole time I'm all "But I'm married! And pregnant!" which really kills the mood for my seducer. (Last night? John Mayer.) I just hope whoever I get tonight will understand and just buy me some froyo instead.

So I was all gung ho for a birthing center birth

I've read the books, I've seen the documentaries, I've talked to many a mama. And in some ways, the non-hospital, no-chance-of-meds, earthy labor experience was just what I wanted. I wholeheartedly believe my body was made to do this, that birth has become overmedicalized, that birthing centers often offer a more nurturing and satisfying labor experience. So I made my appointment, made the announcement I was doing it, and that was that.

But then? I don't know. I didn't cancel my appointment yesterday with my lady doctor and afterward I remembered I liked her ways - especially because she admitted to eating sushi, hot dogs, and turkey sammies during her pregnancy. Then she reminded me (oops pregnancy amnesia!) about the cervical issue I had surgery on awhile back that we'll need to watch closely to ensure the baby stays up in there toward the end. Should be absolutely fine, but I'm going to need extra ultrasounds and a little extra care to be sure everything stays cozy and closed till it's time to push. Sort of moves me out of the no-risk pregnancy category the birthing centers prefer. Low risk? Yes. No risk? Not really.

Oh and then I remembered - much more noticeable now that I'm out of breath as soon as I climb out of bed - that the doctor's office is a three minute walk from my home. Not a twenty minute drive, like the birthing center...a THREE MINUTE WALK. Not five! Not four! THREE. I could stumble out in my bathrobe if I wanted.

And lastly, while I am fully, totally behind the birthing center concept, I also need to be honest about who I am. And who is that? A basically insane, neurotic, obsessive compulsive worrier who will fixate for the next 6 months on all the things that could go wrong last minute if I'm not at a hospital. It's just the truth. And since I think the whole point of the birthing center is to feel more relaxed...

And so! Onward ho with a hospital birth. I'm going to try my damndest to do it natural, to make it as un-sterile (in the psychological sense - I'd like it sterile in the germy sense, thanks) as possible, and to keep any and all IVs out of my arm. But most importantly, to get this little critter buddy robot friend out safe and sound.

A salty day

Just click here to see where my mind (and stomach) were at around 5 today. And honestly? One of the best things I've eaten all pregnancy. Turns out, our baby gets happy when you feed it two soft taco supremes followed by a long snooze. If all it takes is $3.43 and some shut eye? DONE.

I even used the good tummy and mood vibes to put on some tunes and clean the kitchen. Now, I MAY have broken down in tears when the Beatles' version of Twist and Shout came on (is it because he says "baby" a lot? because I'm really excited to introduce the buddy to the stylings of the Fab Four? because I'm insane?), but other than that! A success.

Oh! Also good was this morning because I had my monthly check-in (where apparently I have to LABEL MY OWN PEE SAMPLE EXCUSE ME?) and I got to hear our little friend's pitter patter heartbeat! She put the gel on the tum and warned me it might take a few minutes to find the little guy, but within a few seconds hi! There you are!

"You've got a cooperative baby!"

Did you hear that in there?! Does positive reinforcement work yet? Keep it up, pal!

The heartbeat is nice and strong and this time I had my actual doctor there, so she wasn't so clinical and cold about the whole thing; she let me listen for awhile and laughed when the heartbeat would go in and out a little because he was moving around so much. *heart breaks into millions of pieces*

Followed up the appointment with my first day back at work after vacation. Got pretty zonked pretty early on, but I've shortened my hours and that's helping. So did the BLT on a salt bagel I grabbed just before sitting down. Heard some guy order it ahead of me in line and realized it was the perfect food. Essentially a salt lick in a wrapper. Nom nom nom.

I'll pause here for the good women of this world who didn't eat Taco Bell and bacon during their pregnancies (OR WHO THINK THEY WON'T GOOD LUCK TO THEE) to judge me. It's cool. I also snort coke on the weekends!

Let's make a list!

Because I have a lot to update on and we all love a good listy format, don't we now?

1.) I loved my trip home. It was REAL SUMMER - barefoot on the lawn, mosquito bites, steaks on the grill, swims in Walden Pond and the Squannacook River, sticky sleepy nights, picnic tables, and driving with the windows down and my ponytail sticking to my lips.

My first full day back was a lovely surprise - the whole fam damly drove down from Maine to party down at our house. They brought cupcakes! and maternity clothes! and fudge! and wedding presents! and baby books! and babies! We grilled yums on the grill, watched the kiddos be reeediculously cute together, and tried to keep ourselves from eating Libby the Perfect Baby alive. It was great - but of course too short.

Here are a couple pictures (stolen from you, Miss Amanda!):

Meredyth, me (and my...bust), Christie, Ben, the Cutest Cupcakes on Earth.

Okay honestly? This baby, Christie's third, was made in a baby factory. Not only is she cute as a freaking button, her personality and temperament need to be cloned. So lowkey, so sweet, so...I HOPE MY TUMMY WAS PAYING ATTENTION.

My Gram, the baby I kidnapped, my chubby tum.

Okay, moving on. So that day was lovely, then Mom and I had some really great lowkey days afterward, swimming and eating and lounging and chatting. She really hucked and jived for me and it was the best thing ever, being totally pampered and lazy and fed. I could have done it for many more days, although Mom...she probably just needed a nap.

More fun was had, visiting my male family members and such, but I'm tuckered out on details, schmetails. Needless to say, I was ready to see my boo back in SF, but was still sad to leave.

2.) This past week has been back to help-me-now in terms of the baby sicks. I have no idea what's going on, but I'm not happy, yo. I thought I was slowly getting better, but lately I've been slammed with that all-day shroud of nausea. There's just so much that can be said about it because blah blah blah. But I'd just like to be honest about how hard this sickness thing is for me. It's hard. I'm upset. Moving on.

3.) Last night I had a complete breakdown when we couldn't get seats to Harry Potter. I cried in the streets. I stamped my feet. If I couldn't be with Dumbledore, I wanted to end it all. But then Clay suggested we take a walk along Crissy Field and then buy some iPhones and surprise! I felt better.

So yeah, that brings me to

4.) I know we're a little late, but we bought some looooooovely iPhones last night. We're in love. Doobie doobie doooooooooo.

5.) Time for Cheerios and gagging!