The Name

First, I want to apologize for making you all wait so long to find out her name, but the hospital blocked Blogger for some reason. Also photobucket, so I couldn't upload photos either.

Nora Frances
June 25th, 2009
7lb, 8oz, 21in.











I am ashamed to say that it did not even occur to me to bring Mr. Pickles to the hospital, but I'm sure he'll make an appearance in later, better pictures of Nora. There are better pictures, but they require finding cables and such, so that's out right now.

And now Jack is requiring attention, so I'll have to wait to write about Nora's birth story. (short version: FIVE HOURS. She is TOTALLY forgiven for being late.)

Thanks to everyone for your thoughts, prayers, and good wishes. I love the internet so much.

And now for something completely different...

Boy, I hope that I don't get into trouble with that title, oh well, well see. Anyway, some of you may be able to tell by the tone, others might need it spelled out, today's post is being entered by none other than "The Husband"!

So, for an update, our new baby girl was born at 1:42PM today. For those that like to know such things, here are the baby specs:
Weight: 7lb. 8oz.
length: 21"

Specs...HA! you can tell this is being written by a techie huh? Ok, so I don't totally ruin the integrity of this blog, I'll sign off. There will be a picture (or seven) update tomorrow.

Forty-ONE weeks

Well, I'm still on my couch. Even though Jack is at his grandparents', I'm not at Up, because, as much as Andrew and I hate to waste this last golden opportunity to go to an actual movie theater, we're just too darn tired. It sort of felt like a chore.

I am scheduled for an induction tomorrow. When my sister was induced, she had to be at the hospital by 7am, but my hospital works differently. They will call us when they have a bed available, and we will have one hour to get there. They can call us any time between 6am and 10pm. So... yeah. Let's hope for, say, 8am? Fortunately, the hospital is only ten minutes away, so as long as we're awake by 6:00 we're good.

I had an biophysical ultrasound and a non-stress test today just to check that everything's fine, and everything's fine. All signs point to this kid's just being really, really comfortable. But me? Not so much with the comfortable. More with the lots-of-pain-whenever-I-move. Incidentally, my mom stayed with Jack today during my tests, and I asked her how she ever survived carrying me the three extra weeks she had to - have I told you I was three weeks late? - and she said she cried a lot. "I can believe it!" I told her.

I will say that she looks pretty cute on the ultrasound. We could see her little nose and she kept sticking out her tongue, much to the amusement of the tech. I asked the tech if she really does have fat cheeks or do they always look like that in an ultrasound, and, sadly, she said they always look like that in an ultrasound. But that's not to say she doesn't have fat cheeks. I guess we'll find out tomorrow.

Man, it feels weird to write that. We'll find out tomorrow. But here's hoping that a miracle occurs before I have to get induced. I've tried a variety of reported labor-inducing techniques including scrubbing the kitchen floor and eggplant. I mean I ate the eggplant, I didn't scrub it. So now, we wait.

I leave you with the final belly shot. Bonus points for any Mr. Pickles sightings.





See you on the other side!

I am typing this from my couch

Not from the hospital. Believe me, I am more sorry than you are.

Updating

Why would she want to come out HERE when it's so comfy in THERE?

On the upside, I realized today that if I do make it till Wednesday, Jack will be heading to his grandparents for the night and that means Andrew and I can go see Up.

Still nothing.

Yesterday I took my midwife friend's advice and tried "curb-walking." (This is walking with one foot on the curb and one in the street.) It seemed to get some contractions going, so I went for a second walk during Jack's nap and ended up wearing myself completely out and having to take a nap as well. Sadly, all the contractions petered out and I was left with nothing but sore calves. You should see what the combination of sore calves and a being nine months pregnant does for a person's gait. It's not pretty.

I had called my parents in the morning to say that I thought maybe things were beginning, so I had to call them back in the evening to inform them of the unfortunate turn of events. "Well," said my Dad, "you'll go to bed and relax for a while, and that will get things moving."

"Now you're just making stuff up," I told him. Then my mom got on the phone and said, "You should try taking a walk."

"I did," I said. "In fact, I walked long enough that I completely wore myself out!"

"Oh, don't wear yourself out," she replied. "You should put your feet up and relax!"

I laughed and said, "Well which is it, Mom? Should I go for a walk or relax? I can't do both!" She then told me that my dad made her a whiskey sour when she was due with their second, but, sadly, we have no sour mix. Well, that and I wasn't really in the mood.

And today is Father's Day, and poor Andrew spend the whole thing pretty much waiting on me hand and foot. I did get up with Jack and let Andrew sleep "in" a bit during which time I chopped things for his omelette, but I didn't MAKE the omelette because I figured Andrew would want a GOOD breakfast on Father's Day. Omelettes are his forte. Breakfast in general is his domain, actually, but I am at least capable of making other things. Just not omelettes.

(My friend The Photographer once asked me why I didn't have Andrew show me how to make an omelette. "Then you can make them!" she said.

"Why on earth would I want to do that?" I answered.

"Ah, yes. I see what you mean," she replied.)

At any rate, after my somewhat lame attempt at making his Father's Day nice, I spent the rest of the day napping and wandering sadly around the house while Andrew entertained Jack, cleaned the kitchen, and did laundry. This pregnancy is not going easy on him either. But, lest you feel TOO sorry for him, you should know that I also have a cold. And it is more than unfair to be 40+ weeks pregnant with a head cold. UNFAIR.

Well, my bag is packed and the induction is Thursday if she doesn't come sooner.

Not yet

Still pregnant, but there are irregular contractions. So that means... well, pretty much nothing. Could be tomorrow, could be next week. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Plus side of being overdue and wallowing in misery

Andrew picks up all the toys every night and also cleans the kitchen most nights, even when he also made dinner. And tonight he even washed the pans! And here I thought that was against his religion!

Nope.

I had my 40 week appointment yesterday. Zero cm, folks. ZERO. "Maybe a little bit of thinning."

HEAVY HEAVY SIGH.

I had to go back for an ultrasound today because I measured slightly smaller than last week, but everything is totally find. She's apparently quite comfortable in there. And it looks like she has fat cheeks.

Reason given? "Because I'm growing."

Jack's awake now. Two hours later on the dot. But that's not why I'm posting again. I'm posting again because he just informed me, "I can't scratch my ear with my foot."

Kermit? Where?

Well I must have been doing SOME nesting, because there's nothing to do around here. Well, OK, to be fair, that's because what there IS to do requires action on my part that I am unwilling to partake in. For example, I am not going to pick up all the stuff from the drawer that Jack threw on the floor because that would mean I'd have to stand up and then bend down. SEVERAL TIMES. So that's out. If it doesn't attract bugs, it stays where it is. That's MY motto.

That pretty much leaves things like organizing photos and blogging, and I finished organizing all the photos yesterday, so here I am. (For real; I made Jack's baby book this week. Yes, he IS two and a half. Your point?)

So. Kermit. I had actually wondered if anyone would ever notice Kermit. (For SHAME, Kristin!) I cut this out of a magazine my first year in grad school, and it has hung in my bathroom ever since. I even bought a frame specifically for this picture, but naturally I bought the wrong size and was forced to mat it with black construction paper which immediately faded to a dingy gray. What sort of dye do they use on construction paper, anyway? Because it fades SECONDS after you take it out of the dark.



It is a "Got Milk?" ad from 1999. My shiny new computer - oh, right, I got a shiny new computer and the battery, like, WORKS and stuff - does not have any fancy imaging software, so I couldn't reverse the image to enable you to read it, but it's too blurry anyway. (Of course, if I were on a fake-science based TV show, all I'd have to do is hit a couple of keys and my magical imaging software would pull pixels out of the ether and we'd all be able to see Kermit's fingerprints even though his hand is turned away and he is made of felt and therefore has no fingerprints. And the thing about all that that bothers me the most is that we would not have to use the mouse to select the area we want to enhance, we'd just hit three keys and a box would show up on our screen selecting the correct region and zoom in. Does that bother anyone else? MAKE THE CHARACTERS USE A MOUSE.)

Wow, I'm bored. Bored and completely without contractions. And typing this free-thinking style, in case you couldn't tell. Also, Jack is napping. His nap today started at 10:30am. Currently, Jack's nap are completely and utterly unpredictable, happening anywhere from (apparently) 10:30am to 4:30pm. They usually last two hours (except for the 4:30pm start time one; I only let him have twenty minutes because I'm not a complete moron), but I simply never know when - or IF - they will take place. On the plus side, though, he just gets into bed and goes to sleep when he's ready.

Oh, speaking of contractions, I agree with you all that she DOES look lower in that picture compared to last week's, but I think it's partly the different shirt. She's been dropping for a long time now. I can tell because I've been walking around for some weeks now with the distinct feeling that a baby is about to spontaneously fall out due to sheer pressure. Also, I have to pee ALL THE TIME but then I go and there is NOTHING.

Oh! Was that a contraction?

NO IT TOTALLY WASN'T. Because I'm going to be pregnant forever and ever. The end.

(Note: I didn't even feel anything, I was just using a literary device to complain. I realized later that it sounds like I felt something and decided it wasn't a real one when, in fact, I felt nothing because nothing remotely contraction-esque is happening 'round these parts. Sorry to get you all excited.)

40 Weeks

and counting.





As near as I can tell, I'm going to be pregnant for the rest of my life. But I'll keep you posted.

Things I Want To Remember

Still no baby, in case you were wondering. But there are two things that I'm afraid I will forget if I don't write them down. First, in Jack's world, the opposite of "remember" is "reget." As in, "Daddy, Mommy regot to put the cranberries in the banana bread." You have to admit, there is a logic to it. I don't know how long he'll keep it up, but I will enjoy it while it lasts.

Second, we have four Elmo books that Jack has developed an obsession with, and we read them four times a day. He's pretty much memorized them, and he likes to talk to the pictures in Elmo's ABC Book, particularly the Elmo the "S" page because it's a close up, and the Elmo on the "U" page because he is upside down.(That reminds me of a third thing: For Jack, the opposite of "upside down" is "upside up.") We usually spend quite a long time on these two pages talking to Elmo, asking him questions like, "Are you upside down, Elmo?", etc. Yesterday, I remembered that we have an Elmo doll and pulled him out for Jack to play with.

Jack loved it, and talked to Elmo all evening, completely ignoring me who was making Elmo talk. And then he told Elmo it was time for him to get ready for bed. He took him into the bathroom to give him a bath, but then brought him back out to me for the bath, probably because, mysteriously, Elmo didn't sit up and talk without me. He told Elmo to look up so that he could rinse his hair, and then he took Elmo into his bedroom and shut the door. A few minutes later he came out, closing the door behind him.

How I wish I could have seen what went on while they were in there, because when I went in afterwards I found this:

I didn’t think I was being particularly subtle

When Jack was about four months old, my cousin (Vicki of The Movie fame) and I got involved with a local mom’s group and found ourselves part of a playgroup for mothers of newborns. Vicki had a two-month-old at the time. Those early days were of course less “playgroup” and more “meet up with other people who actually are quite interested in the minute details of your child’s sleep schedule group,” but here we are two years later and now we moms can hang out and chat with only brief interruptions to mediate toy trades – at least, until the second babies started arriving. IFM has one of them; currently four months old. Last Wednesday, I attended what I hope will be my last playgroup before this kid busts her way out. We met at Incredibly Friendly Mom’s house, and spent most of the afternoon outside in her gorgeous backyard. Jack and IFM’s daughter Sohkie (Jack’s early mispronunciation) were over near the garden while IFM and I discussed the minute details of her new daughter’s sleep schedule, because some things don’t change.

Then Jack came running over to me saying, “Mom! A worm! A worm!” Sure enough, he had unearthed a wriggly little critter from IFM’s garden and was bringing it over to show me.

“Wow, Jack, that’s awesome!” I cried, keeping a pleased and excited tone in my voice. “But I don’t want to hold it, though!” Jack then offered it to IFM who also politely declined. “Maybe Sohkie wants to hold it,” I suggested. Sohkie did indeed, and as the two toddlers examined the worm, IFM complimented me on my cool head. I guess with a daughter, she has not had as much experience in this particular area. Maybe now that Jack has shown Sohkie where to find them…

After a few minutes, Jack said, “Can we take him home?”

“I don’t think so, Jack,” I said. “I think that worm lives in the garden right over there,” I said while staring panicked signals at IFM. Cool heads prevail, but only when the worms and caterpillars stay OUTSIDE the car.

“But I want to take him home!” Jack said.

“No, honey,” I said, “but the worm lives here! RIGHT, IFM?”

IFM laughed and said, “I think that worm would miss his mom and dad, Jack. Don’t you?” And Jack reluctantly agreed to return the worm to his loving worm family before going home.

Now contrast that story of the unspoken messages between two moms with this one of a conversation among me, Jack, and my downstairs neighbor.

Jack and I were in the back yard killing time before Andrew got home. I’m not really up for much walking these days, so when Jack asked me to go for a walk with him I had to say not right now. Enter the neighbor lady, just arriving home. “We’re going for a walk!” said Jack to Neighbor Lady.

“Not right now, Jack. We’re just playing in the back yard, right?” I said.

“Oh, you’re going for a walk?” said Neighbor Lady.

“Uh, not right now,” I said. “No walk.”

“Are you going to the park?” Neighbor Lady asked Jack.

“NOT RIGHT NOW!” I said, distinctly. “NO PARK RIGHT NOW! We’re staying in the back yard, right Jack? RIGHT?” I said, while staring daggers at Neighbor Lady.

Needless to say, Neighbor Lady does not have kids. And apparently does not know any, either.

No news

I am still pregnant. Sigh.

Nesting

So. I’m still pregnant.

"450px" width="300px" border="0" />

That was me yesterday, at 39 weeks exactly. I decided to wear my pretty shirt instead of my usual striped T because I needed a little lift to get me out of the ocean of self-pity I’ve been wallowing in these past few weeks. Being pregnant is just SO HARD! POOR POOR POOR POOR ME!

(slap)

Sorry. Hey, howzabout I mention some ways in which this pregnancy has been easier than average? First of all, yesterday at my mom’s I discovered that I am having Braxton-Hicks contractions, I just can’t feel them. (My mom is a retired OB/GYN nurse, and she felt the tightening on my belly and pointed it out to me. Since it doesn’t hurt at all, I had just thought that was the baby stretching or something.) Contrast this to one of my sisters who was brought to near tears by her BH contractions for three straight months. So that’s good. And then there’s sleep and how I can still do it. Sometimes I even sleep straight through the night without having to get up to pee at all! This is unheard of in a nine-month pregnant lady, and hoo boy, will I miss it when I suddenly find myself getting up 87 times a night to breastfeed. On the other hand, the sleep I get isn’t particularly refreshing, since when I wake up I’m still completely exhausted*. I think it’s because I can’t roll over, so the mornings after I don’t get up all night, my left side is practically numb from having lain on it all night. Still, I’m sure I will soon look longingly back at these days of sleeping in one position for eight hours because of the EIGHT HOURS part, so I’m trying to savor it.

But I was going to talk about nesting. Really, I was! Check the title! I don’t think I nest as much as some women do; for example, while I did spend two days purging all the old papers from our file cabinets and shipping them off to a shredding service, I did not finish the job and reorganize the remaining files into a sensible system. Nevertheless, there have been several bursts of somewhat odd behavior like how I suddenly primed the back stairwell last month during Jack’s nap. (Don’t tell my mom I did that.) Now that we finally painted our bedroom, the only painting left to do in our house – if you don’t count repainting the bathroom because we accidentally chose a god-awful pink or the living room because it’s been long enough that I’ve gotten sick of it – are the outside pantry and the back stairway. These two are low priority because no one really sees them. Guests see the back stairway if we have a cookout, but for the most part, these areas of the house are closed off and therefore invisible. Still, the stairway had horrible dark blue walls and dark brown wainscoting and trim and did I mention it was dark? Very very dark. A very very dark, dark cave. So we figured we’d use our leftover yellow and white from the kitchen and brighten it up, but, you know, when we got around to it.

Well, I got around to it, or at least to the priming part. I knew I probably wouldn’t finish before the baby comes, but I also figured that even if all I did was prime it, it could not possibly look worse and it would at least be brighter. And I was right, I didn’t finish. Technically, I didn’t even finish priming because there is so much trim and wainscoting, but I was right, it doesn’t look any worse and it is, in fact, much brighter. So I’m calling it a success. I do kind of wonder when we will actually finish it, though. Even though the woodwork is only half primed, it’s the sort of thing that just starts looking normal until you have people over and they say things like, “Oh, are you painting? When did you start?” and you are forced to reply, “Uh… four years ago.”

But my battery is dying and I want to post this now because I am hoping I will be too busy having a baby to post it tomorrow. Fingers crossed!

*Yesterday, I asked Jack how he had slept, and he said “Slept good.” Then I asked him if he felt refreshed, and he said, “And rested!”

Still pregnant

I'm hoping to write a real post today, but just in case I don't get to it because of a certain cranky party in my house I figured I'd let you all know I have not had the baby. It's been a while since I posted, so I bet some of you were wondering. I have, however, had my first ever experience of a stranger touching my belly. It was very bizarre. Who does that?

Photo uploading

Oh, did you think I meant I'd post some photos? Nope. I promise to take a belly shot shortly, though. People aren't saying how small I am anymore although an acquaintance did say to me the other day, "Hey, your belly button popped. Does that mean you're done?" and I was forced to kill her. Or else I just smiled and laughed and died a little inside; one or the other. PEOPLE: Do not discuss the shape of people's bodies. We hate it. Even if we're pregnant. The end.

So anyway, I've been uploading years worth of photos to Shutterfly because Kodak Gallery has decided that they will no longer store them forever for free. I make albums of months with occasional special event albums for days with lots of photos, and I was chugging my way through 2008 with 70-80 photos per month when I hit July and discovered that I took 428 photos in July. FOUR HUNDRED TWENTY-EIGHT. This trumps even Jack's first month of life which was something like 94 photos. We went on a few trips and there was a baptism and a birthday party maybe? But jeez Louise, this is a lot of photos. So I'm waiting for them to finish uploading. It may take awhile.

Because I said so

Latest post is up at The Bump!

Jack started talking early, and has advanced at a pretty decent clip. In most ways, this is absolutely delightful. Take, for example, his current penchant for coming into our bed around 6:00 am and saying, “Mommy, I want to talk about animals.” And then we do. HOW CUTE IS THAT? And today, as we drove through the rain over a bridge, I said, “Jack, is that the river?” and he said, “Yes, but it’s kind of hard to see.”

“It’s hard to see?” I said, confused. Because I didn’t think it was hard to see; the river is pretty big and it was right there in all its majestic expanse.

Read the rest at TheBump.com