Anticipation

Back at the beginning of the year (think about it-- January feels like so long ago) I scheduled my appointments until the very end of pregnancy. It seemed like I was booked until Kingdom Come. Well, next Monday is my last one. How does that happen?

Things are progressing along and I'm going to have a baby. It's a little beyond my comprehension. My parents come in less than two weeks. I'm looking forward to their visit more than I am to having a baby. I know what to expect from a visit from my parents-- I have no idea what to expect from having a baby! Their visit a much more concrete thing to imagine, so I kind of focus on it. Plus, I know the exact date and time they'll arrive; Baby Girl is so much more mysterious.

Last Saturday I had a baby shower. I made sure my camera battery was charged and ready to go. And as we were cleaning up I realized it had stayed in my purse the entire time! Go figure. I was too busy eating and chatting. It was a fabulous shower and I'm so grateful for friends here. A crêpe bar and a chocolate fountain, with enough fruit to satisfy this pregnant woman. Lots of happy colors, cheerful spring-y china to eat on and good friends. Baby Girl and I were spoiled. We got lots of books, most of them I hadn't read, so I'm looking forward to those. (And to think I thought myself well read when it came to children's books, between the nephews and tutoring. Apparently there were some gems escaping me!) I'm so grateful for everyone who has helped me get ready for Baby Girl's appearance. Especially moms who give me something I'd never think of, but will probably use and love. It's good to have combined wisdom helping me get ready for this next step.

A package arrived for Baby Girl from Grandma Parish this week. So loved. Look at these gorgeous quilts!

My mom was a little leery of my fabric choices, but I think she has realized they aren't as "out there" as she thought they were. They might even look, dare we say... babyish?! I love them, and I know that Baby Girl will, too! An adorable little romper with a Peter Pan collar and smocking was in the package, too. Good work that Grandma bargain hunter!

Now we wait. And continue to tie up some loose ends. I bought a fresh pineapple on Monday because it sounded so good. I devoured it. Then Kroger had them on sale, pineapples for $1.25 a piece (killer deal). Yesterday I bought three. I'm probably 1/3 through the first one, with no intention of slowing down. Last night a friend told me you, "You know, fresh pineapple is supposed to induce labor, according to those old wives' tales!" If so, I've got plenty stocked to get things going. If not, well, I'm still in pineapple heaven!

Touch of the Master's Hand

Chris has long been known in my family as the "Baby Whisperer." He just has a way with little ones that causes them to settle down, and often, fall fast asleep. (Unless he's trying to rile them up, which he does equally well.)

Back in the day, he and Chod would go to church meetings on Wednesday nights while I would hang out at Nikkala's house. Baby Lincoln would fuss and whine. His Uncle Chris would get home from meetings, take him, love on him, and quickly Baby Lincoln would be sleeping. Chris is magic and these results have been repeated with much success on babies at church and other social situations.

Flash forward to our own child, in utero. Early when I started feeling movements, I'd want to share with Chris. He'd usually miss them. I'd blame it on taking too long. But now, whenever she goes nuts (usually when I'm trying to fall asleep), all it takes is her daddy's hand on my belly to calm her down, though not perfectly so. It's not like he's never felt her move, kick or go crazy, but his hand on my stomach definitely calms her down. He just radiates something soothing.

Have I mentioned I'm so glad I'm married to Chris and that he's my partner as we go into parenthood? I am. It's hard to beat having an in-house Baby Whisperer. Baby Girl and I are lucky ladies.

Because Mom Asked

This might set a bad precedent. My mom asks for a belly shot and she gets one. Next thing you know, my blog will be plastered with pictures of a baby, each one only slightly different from the one before, probably of bad quality and in a ridiculous quantity. You know, because my mom asked for them.

Here it is anyway. Last week-- 36 weeks. (It's amazing what a new haircut can do for a girl's getting ready slump. Thank you, Chris!)

Still doing well and all things pregnancy look good. We've had some wonderful spring weather, my front flower beds are full of tulip shoots. And outside the kitchen window a surprise clump of daffodils appeared (they're almost ready to open their buds). Hooray for these little signs of hope! It's amazing how much I appreciate the work put in the fall before when bulbs start showing up. Totally worth it.

Only bummer is that spring break is over. I can't get enough of Chris being home, so it's never fun when he has to spend more time at school again. He's making a big push to try to get ahead before the baby comes, and it's getting into crazy time as it is. Did I mention how glad I am the sun has been shining and the weather has been warm? Somehow, that makes things a little bit better. Too bad a chance of snow is forecasted for later this week. I'll soak up the 70 degrees today while I have the chance (and all the rain and thunder storms, too).

The End is Coming

...Or at least I hope it is!

From the beginning, I never wanted to be the woman who whined and complained about being pregnant. I feel extremely blessed, so I didn't want to show ingratitude by complaining. But over the past few days I have started feeling very full of baby. Which is kind of uncomfortable. People still tell me I look small, but I can reassure them that there is plenty of baby inside of me.

Two weeks ago Baby Girl decided to flip to a breech/transverse position. She had me pretty nervous. And uncomfortable. It's hard to bend over when you have a belly, but much harder when the baby in the belly doesn't bend with you. I had to eat slightly reclined in my chair. Leaning over my plate, even a little, was out of the question. And in that position she was free to kick my bladder and hit some nerves that made me feel pretty queasy. Fun!

I met with a different mid-wife last week, just to get to know her in case she's the one on call when the baby comes. She told me, "I wish I could tell you she's not breech. But she is." Yeah, I can feel her head in my side, I know. The midwife even went as far as to refer to her as "a little stinker." My worst fears confirmed by a medical professional!

But, at my appointment on Monday she was back to head down (and scored us another ultrasound just to confirm. Good work, Baby Girl). I am feeling quite relieved and hoping she stays put. Everything I want from labor and delivery is to minimize the chance of a C-section. I was going to be quite bummed out if I did everything I could to reduce the risk, and then the little stinker stayed breech anyway. I know I'm not in control and that was a good reminder.

Another reason I'm glad the end is near? (Other than a baby...) I went to the grocery store this morning in my pajamas (leggings, t-shirt and sweatshirt), and Crocs. It's a slippery slope to sloppiness, and I'm afraid I'm starting down it. Guess that's what happens when your shirts get a little too short and you're just about sick of your clothes. It's time for some serious wardrobe remixing to pull me out of this nose dive.

Next week I'm term, and then four more weeks until baby! (That's what I tell myself so I don't get too anxious. Though we're getting prepared for an anytime surprise.)

Love Senses

Love:

Tastes like homemade lasagna and French bread from Mom's recipe.

Looks like my prenatal vitamin, set out for me each morning on my place mat.

Smells like warmed rice bags, tucked in at the foot of our bed each night.

Sounds like The Family Feud theme music and helping each other come up with answers (via the ridiculous Facebook game).

Feels like a little head in the right side of my stomach and her daddy's cold hand on my belly to feel her movements.

 How do you sense love? I'd enjoy it if you'd share with me in the comments!

Not a Head of Cauliflower

I used to read blogs and roll my eyes because all they could talk about were potty training and sleepless nights. Well, I've found myself completely enthralled with a certain Baby Girl, and she's not even out in the world yet.

On Monday Chris and I took advantage of his day off (why do they offer up MLK and not President's Day? President's Day is one of my favorites) and headed to Chicago, specifically to the Museum of Science and Industry. We'd heard ravings and it happens to be free for most of January, so we decided, along with the rest of Indiana and Illinois, to visit.

You would have though the lines were for Disneyland

You! the exhibit was my favorite part of the museum. Possibly because I really dig knowing what's in food and how our bodies work, and possibly because it was at the beginning of our day and my feet hadn't swollen up and ran of out of room in my shoes and I hadn't visited nearly every bathroom in the museum. (My formerly infamous small bladder is plain ridiculous now.)

I was completely mesmerized by the real fetuses. The line was long, so we just butted in at the end. Sadly, the fetus collection jumps from 26 weeks to 38 weeks, and I was exactly 28 weeks that day. It completely blew my mind to see this perfect little baby, albeit male, and think that our Baby Girl is a real live baby. She's not a head of cauliflower, as suggested by silly books. She's a baby. One that's perfectly human.

28 weeks, on the money. All pregnancy shots should be taken in a fun-house mirror. As long as it's the right fun-house mirror...

It took me a little while before I could tear myself away from the exhibit. A mom came through with three pre-teen little girls. As they were looking at the 38 week baby, the mom was making comments about having a baby and they were amazed that a baby that big could fit in a belly. I told them, "I have one that big [26 weeks] in my tummy." One of the girls was so adorable in excitedly asking, "Do you know what it is?" I told her it was a girl, she asked if we had a name and I told her. She gushed, "Ohhh, that's so beautiful." It was a really sweet exchange.

It's kind of blown my mind to imagine a baby in my stomach and have an actual size reference for her, rather than some produce from the grocery store. It makes me all the more excited to meet her. Though after the museum we went shopping for baby gear and it stressed me out in a huge way. So many choices! So much money! So much unnecessary stuff! But some stuff still necessary in order to legally bring her home from the hospital. Chris got into it, and my goodness, he's going to be one adorable daddy-o.

On Gender

Right before we went in for our ultrasound, I had a pretty profound realization. I had been thinking that our baby had a fifty-fifty chance of being a boy or a girl. (Chris and I like to joke that since he comes from a family of all boys and I come from a family of all girls that the odds are evenly split!)

But, with some great power I realized that it wasn't a game of odds. True, to us, the odds were fifty-fifty, but it wasn't a gamble to my baby. I know that the words in The Family: A Proclamation to the World are true. "All human beings—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose." (My emphasis added.)

Baby girl didn't just happen to form into a female. Premortally, she was female and so her mortal life continues. Her gender is part of who she is, just as much as it's part of who I am. This understanding makes me appreciate the power the Lord gives us to bring new life into this world. It makes my duty as a mother so much more than feeding and clothing. I'm grateful for the above document, continued revelation and the blessing we have to pattern our families in the Lord's way.

How I Roll: Mom Edition

After two baby showers and starting to looking at baby things myself, I've started fleshing out what I do and don't like, when it comes to stuff for my own baby girl.

Loves:

• Hair accessories visible from space. If the flower or bow happens to be bigger than her head, all the better.
• Bum ruffles. Bum ruffles. Bum ruffles! Nothing is cuter than a diapered bum dressed up with ruffles. Except for our baby [hopefully].
• Bold colors. Pastels are sweet, but I like a baby who is loud without screaming.
• And on the complete other end of the spectrum, soft neutrals, with just a hint of "girl" thrown in.
• Peter Pan collars and smocking. I'm a little bit "anti-saccharin sweet," but I can't resist these classic and old fashioned looks. You can throw in black patent leather Mary Janes, too. With white tights.
• Hats. Sweet, adorable hats.
• Baby swimming suits.

Not for me:

• Anything proclaiming her love for mommy, daddy, grandma, or grandpa. Or telling the world she is a princess. Or how cute she is, or spoiled, or messy, or any other cheesy saying.
• Licensed characters. Enough said?

Making the Grade

Chris stayed up late doing research last night. So this morning I left behind a sleeping husband as I went to the church for a Christmas service project.

When I went in our bedroom for the first time since getting home, the blankets were pulled up, but no pillows were arranged on the bed (last one up makes the bed). I told Chris, "You get a solid C for making the bed, but Cs aren't passing in the Hartwell home." He added they aren't passing in a PhD program, either.

I realized that I meant it. Cs aren't passing in my mind.

And then.

Then I remembered a sassy little third grader who did not like her teacher. And to show her dislike, she didn't turn in her homework. Which led to her getting a D and some Cs in third grade. The bad habit followed her to fourth grade, with a few Cs.

I can still vividly see the scene of the talking to I got from my mom when she got the report card with a D on it. We were standing in the doorway between her bedroom and the kitchen, her trying not to blow up, knowing I was capable of so much more, but not wanting to create another power struggle (because obviously, I had already decided that not turning in my homework hurt my teacher, not me). Cs were not acceptable, and Ds were big trouble in the Parish home, especially if you had the potential to do much better.

I'm afraid that one day I'll have to deal with these same sort of issues. And then I pray Baby Girl takes after her dad.

The Nearly 22 Week Bump

And a shot of our holiday living room. I shooed Chris out of the way, made him sort of put his research away, and this is what you get. Thank you, Photo Booth. I think we're currently the most camera-ridiculous people I know.

Just last night, people were still saying I didn't look pregnant. This morning, I definitely felt bigger than when I went to sleep. Strange how that happens. If I could freeze my belly this size and somehow continue to grow a healthy Baby Girl, I'd be okay with that.

Maternity Musings

Here are some random thoughts on my pregnancy thus far. One day, in just a few short months, I'm sure I won't be able to remember when I could see my toes, so it's good to document it as I go.

On pants:  I can still button my pants, and I they really aren't uncomfortable. I definitely look forward to putting on my PJs at the end of the day, but who doesn't? This marks three weeks from the imposed two week sentence from my doctor. Guess it's a good thing to have hips and thighs, so when I buy pants to fit those, it leaves room for a growing belly. Please note- not all my pants still fit. I wanted one wearing out of each of my black wool pants before retiring them to the belly, so Thanksgiving saw me trying the old hair elastic buttoning trick on my higher-waisted pants. But the elastic was too big, so it was sort of a fiasco.

On maternity clothes:  I'm so glad that before I knew I was pregnant, or if I'd ever be pregnant, I would shop really killer maternity deals. I have two pairs of Ann Taylor Loft maternity pants in my closet (okay, that's a lie, I'm wearing one right now. I've been slacking in the laundry dept, but as soon as my normal pants are dry, I'm back to those. I'm not a fan of hiking up my baggy pants all day long!) that I bought when ATL discontinued their maternity line, before bringing it back again. I've saved the mailing slip because I get so much satisfaction seeing that I paid under $9 combined for both pairs of pants + tax (free shipping). Boo-yah! And I have a couple maternity dresses, tanks and tops that were a few bucks each. Most of them I tried to make sure I could wear non-pregnant, but not all of them. Too bad right now I'm looking at my closet and seeing every thing I want to wear before it's too late. I think I could probably make several costume changes a day just to get them all in. So the maternity wear can wait, but I know I won't be completely empty-handed when I need to call it into service. Double bonus since maternity clothes options are limited here.

On belly buttons:  I've always loved having an outie belly button. I'm proud to be an outie. Until the outie starts popping before before my belly. It's not embarrassing yet, but that day probably isn't too far away. I've heard Band-Aids are the way to go.


On heartburn:  It's not so much a fire feeling as I'd been led to believe. More just a sharp stabbing right at my left ribs. Makes it hard to breath type stabbing. Tums are heaven-sent. And yes, I know the notion that heartburn = hairy baby. I've seen baby pictures of this baby's momma, and well, they didn't call her "Spook" for nothing. If she's anything like her momma, she'll come with a head full.

On names:  We've had a name agreed upon since before we got married. But I feel weird referring to an unborn person by a full name. I mean, what if I change my mind? I don't want her having embroidered blankets or wall art with a name that isn't hers. Far more people ask me about a name than I ever thought would. I've developed a canned response, "We have a name we agree on, so we'll see if it sticks." I much prefer calling her "Baby Girl," with a southern accent, ala Abilene from The Help (audiobook version). We've been told that we're missing out on one of the fun parts of pregnancy: arguing over names. We'll save that for baby number 2, and thank our lucky stars she isn't a boy!

On people's comments: People at church just found out last week. I've wondered if they had noticed my increase in size, since they don't know me as well. (And let's just say that my old shirt that said, "Flat as a Board" across the front is no longer appropriate. Who knew I could be more than an A?) After finding out, I got told over and over that I don't look pregnant at all. Which makes me wonder, "Do they think my mid-section is this thick normally?!" I was telling Chris about it, and he said I'd be even more offended if they had replied, "We thought you were!" It's true. They can't win. To me, I've got a belly, but it's not really that big. The friends that joined us for Thanksgiving said, "When we first met and you said you always packed around treats in your bag, we were suspicious! Plus, you take a water bottle to church!" They didn't believe me when I told them that really, I always do pack treats in my purse, pregnant or not. And I've been known to sip from my CamelBak during Sunday School, sans child in utero. It's better for every one if I don't get hungry or thirsty. No weird comments yet. I'm sort of looking forward to them. And practicing my Oh no you didn't! stare in the meantime. 

On my awesome husband:  He's cute. Last night Baby Girl put on quite a show for her daddy while we were praying and reading scriptures. (That's pretty much the only time I feel her now, while lying down and being still.) I asked Chris if feeling her made her seem more real. He answered, "It makes her seem more like an alien." Fair 'nough. 

On pregnancy in general: So far, so good.

And whoa-- that was wordy.

Thankful Top Ten #10

#10- Chris. I already know word's can't fully do my gratitude justice.

I had a hard time realizing this pregnancy was real. Even after hearing the heartbeat, it still felt pretend. But one day I realized that it was, indeed, real. And the first thing I told my baby was this: "I love your dad." And I do. I hope that this is fully apparent to our kid. And to anyone else who sees us interact.

I'm so thankful for the five plus years we've had with just the two of us. That wasn't the plan (though I don't know that there was a plan). I'm grateful for the places we've gone, the things we've seen, the experiences we've had, and the leaps and bounds we've grown together. It's fun to look back on our life and see how we've gotten to where we are. Having these experiences tucked away gives me courage that we can take on whatever else comes our way.

I still don't know how my 19 year-old self didn't blow it and managed to end up with such a catch. I sometimes feel bad when wives start talking about their husbands. It feels like I'm rubbing it in their faces that I got such a good one. "Chris does the dishes.... He made me breakfast... He'll make our bed... Ran to the store to get it for me... Has a magical touch with babies..." And then I wonder why he bothers to keeps me around!

Recently I was deciding between two different patterns. After disagreeing with me, Chris told me, "I also trust your vision, so if you go with the zebra, I'll trust you." I'm so thankful he gives me his vote of confidence, even when he's not so sure. It's a huge boost to know that he thinks I'll choose wisely.

Last week he had a scheduling change, so he got to come to a volleyball game of mine for the only time this season. I loved hearing his little bits of encouragement as I got up to serve and his praise when I had a good play.  And that's how he is every day. I'm so grateful I get to stand by his side and be blessed by his goodness. I love him.

Thankful Top Ten #8

#8- Today I'm grateful for modern medicine. It let us find out today, 4 1/2 months before nature would, that our baby is a girl! Baby Girl Hartwell is set to arrive mid-April 2011! (You know, right during her dad's finals!)

We're super excited to add to our family. And extremely grateful that things are going well. I haven't been sick (this was the worst while pregnant, but when my brother-in-law and nephews had it too, I don't think it was pregnancy related!) Eating frozen meals for a week after moving while we waited for our household to arrive made my stomach turn. And in turn, I sort of associated it with our new house. But, the thought of our house doesn't make me shudder anymore, and after some immersion therapy, the thought of Sam's Club and Aldi don't repulse me either. Really, it's been quite a breeze and I'm immensely thankful for that. We've had our struggles, but I feel extremely blessed that sickness hasn't been one of them.

I've been able to button my jeans, and I decided that I wasn't announcing to the world until I couldn't button my jeans or I knew the gender. Last week Chris informed me, "I don't think you'll be able to keep it a secret much longer," while pointing to my ever-thickening waistline. Thanks, honey. (At an appointment a few weeks ago, my doctor gave me two weeks left of buttoning. I didn't like the imposed sentence, but she hasn't proven correct.) I think this year for Thanksgiving dinner I'll embrace the elastic waistband, but other than that, I'm sticking with pre-preggo jeans as long as I can.

My family always gives me a hard time about my perceived inability to keep a secret. But I kept a secret from them for 17 weeks (despite my overactive bladder while home visiting). And I have learned that they are just as bad, or worse, at keeping a secret. They say they're just excited, but I say they're also some blabber mouths. :)

We are grateful for this huge life change coming our way. So, so grateful.